I'll trade you hot dish on a stick for a new window motor!

The station wagon family has big plans this weekend. Well, big plans for us, anyway. Driver took the day off tomorrow so we could go to the state fair. It's a tradition we started when Back Seat Girl was only 5 weeks old and we carted her around the fair as she slept ALL day, only waking to nurse a few times.

Anyone who's gone to the fair knows it has a way of sucking money out of your wallet. A corn dog here, Sweet Matha's cookies there, and before you know it you've spent a small fortune. Since we haven't really taken a long vacation this summer, we figured this was it, and we were totally prepared for the money sucking to happen at the fair. Then, Ringo decided to hit a glitch. Driver was on his way to work the other morning and he went to roll up the passenger window, and it stopped part-way up and started making some bad grinding noises. Later that day at home he reached through the window to get something, put some pressure on it, and it fell down into the door.

So, if anyone is wondering how much it costs to replace a window motor in a '99 VW Beetle, it's right around $350. That's a lot of corn dogs.

Who cares whose birthday it is, there's a chocolate muffin!

Apparently, today is Lady's birthday. (Lady would be the beanie puppy laying on the table there.) When Back Seat Girl informed me of this, I told her we could have a little celebration after lunch. After she saw the special muffin with the lit candle on it, this conversation ensued:

BSG: There's something on there.
Me: (panicking as I see her putting her finger dangerously close to it) Yea, it's fire, don't touch it, it's hot!
BSG: Get it off.

So, I taught her how to blow it out, and she enjoyed her chocolate muffin. However, after she started eating it, she told me it was her birthday. After she got done telling me it was her birthday, she told me it was kitty's birthday, and kitty needed a cake, too. And then, she started singing "Happy Birthday to Mommy". The best part, though, was when I asked her how old she was. She gave me the right answer, and then tried her hardest to hold two fingers up like I was. It was so cute to watch her looking at her hand so intently trying to make it move in a way she isn't coordinated enough to do yet.

I wonder whose birthday it will be tomorrow? 

Good Friends

Happy Anniversary, Ma and Pa Wonder!!
It's been great being a part of your lives for so long and making so many memories. I hope you two crazy kids have a great day. Here's to many more years of wedded bliss.

Compromise

Inappropriate conversation...unless you have it with a 2 year old

The scene: Our front yard. I am sitting on the step, Back Seat Girl is playing with a bucket full of water in just a T-shirt, Dora diaper, and sandals. (Hey, I'm happy she kept the T-shirt on.) She comes over to me and rubs her hand on my pants leg.

BSG: You all wet?
Me: Yep, it looks like it.
BSG: You gotta' take it off?
Me: (thinks she means the water) No, it's OK, momma's pants will dry.
BSG: (wipes her hands on my pants again, more wet spots appear) You gotta' take 'em off?
Me: (it's slowly dawning on me what she means) You want momma' to take her pants off?
BSG: Yea, they all wet.
Me: I don't think anyone wants momma' to take her pants off in the front yard.
BSG: (wipes water on my shirt) You gotta' take off yer shirt?
Me: No, honey, it's not OK for adults to run around in public naked. Only little girls and boys. Mommies and Daddies should keep their clothes on outside.
BSG: (running around the corner of the house still clad only in a T-shirt, pull-up, and sandals) I be right back. I gotta' go get somethin'!
Me: *glad we could have this little conversation on propriety*

The newest member of our family

No, I didn't go into labor early. St. Pauli Girl won this at the WI state fair, and was nice enough to give it to Back Seat Girl. Back Seat Girl has named him "Big Nemo". She has a hard time walking around with him because she trips over his tail all of the time, but she usually lands ON him, so it's all good.







They went in circles for a while.












Back Seat Girl really likes to go in circles. Good thing Big Nemo does, too, because her mom and dad get really, really sick when they go in circles with her. 

If you were our neighbors...

this is what you would've seen in our front yard yesterday, after Back Seat Girl complained her shirt was wet. Taking off her shirt was not enough, you see...she also had to have her shorts removed.

Soon after this picture was taken, she requested to go in the house so she could put on "fresh clothes". 

How you know you might not be fully awake

This morning I was on my way to work and had the annoying experience of having a hair stuck between my eyes and my glasses. No matter how I wiggled my nose or whipped my head around, I couldn't get it out. So, while I was driving down highway 62 I decided to take off my glasses and get the hair out. As soon as I looked up I realized that may not have been the best idea I've ever had. Honestly, I don't know what train of thought led up to me taking of my glasses while driving. I obviously wasn't thinking yet, and so I just did it out of habit. Though you think the steering wheel, the stick shift, and the roadside whipping past my window would have reminded me I was driving a moving vehicle and that seeing is pretty important.

I may be raising a cow

This morning Back Seat Girl and I went to the park, even though it looked like it might rain, because we had been stuck inside all day yesterday and frankly, with Driver gone, I needed to keep my sanity. It didn't end up raining, and we had a great time. If the batteries in the camera weren't dead, there would be pictures to show for it. Sorry, Mam and Gama. I promise the next time we go I'll actually bring the camera AND make sure there are charged batteries in it.

Anyway, when we are at the park it drives me nuts when Back Seat Girl is playing happily, but then other kids show up and she stops dead in her tracks, no matter what she is doing, and watches them. I don't know why it bothers me so much. She is getting a little bit better, but I feel like I need to be prodding her to keep going, to stop just standing, to actually PLAY at the park---not watch while other kids play. I must say, today she was MUCH better. But I still wonder why she feels the need to watch other kids so much. She goes to daycare, granted a lot of times it's just one day a week, but it's not like she's never around other kids. It's gotten to the point in the past that when I see other moms and kids show up at a park we're at I feel like shouting at them to go away. I guess it could be my antisocial tendencies. Or the fact that sometimes other people's kids (with the exception of my friends' kids, I promise) drive me nuts. Who knows? Just a little rant.

So, the good part of this post is that when we came home I stopped on our long trek to the back door and decided to clip some basil to bring inside. Back Seat Girl pulled a few leaves off of one of the plants. She announced to me,"I eat the basil", and then...she actually did. She ate not one, but a couple of leaves. Just popped them right into her mouth and chewed them and swallowed them. It looks like her palate is more like mine every day, with her dislike of meat* and love of ice cream and basil.

*I'm not saying I dislike all meat, it's just that I really could go without it for a while and be fine. And sometimes chicken really wigs me out.

Cute pics from today

I've got an icky on my hand!

I'm going to get you, mommy!

I gotta' rake.

Oh, no! My foot all dirty!

 

Continued from above because Blogger sucks and won't let me post more than 4 pictures at a time

I know, I couldn't be any cuter.

Look, it's the tree!!

Thanks for the fishy stickers, Mam. I think I'll stick them all on the potty.

 

Because she had a skirt on and pigtails in her hair

"I hope I get to use this homer hanky soon!"
"Look at me. I am so innocent, even though I'm obviously trying to shake Oinky to death." 

Chillin'

"I read in big girl bed".












"I wish my mom would've gotten closer up on this picture so you could see my face more".

Shut up--I still like it. 

Is it wrong I'm glad her door sticks?

We went to Iowa for about a day and a half this weekend to visit Mam and Pap. A good time was had by all, though I'm pretty sure that Back Seat Girl thinks that Iowa is actually Mam and Pap's house. Also, she's still in love with Pip. No, Mam, Pip can't come and live with us. I don't think Back Seat Girl is ready for the cycle of life that would need to be explained once Kahlua realized Pip was here.

This morning I woke up and didn't hear any noise from Back Seat Girl, so I got into the shower. Driver collected his coffee and left for work. I was standing in the bathroom after my shower and I could have sworn I heard a tiny, fat hand slap at a door, but it was hard to tell with the fan on. So, I opened the door into the hallway and stood very quietly for a few seconds. I couldn't hear anything, so I grabbed the monitor from the living room and switched it on. "Open the der, Mommy." (Don't ask me why, but suddenly she's developed a bit of an accent, so words like door and store are pronounced der and ster.) She didn't sound the least bit upset. So, I went to her room and opened her door, and there she was, running free in her room, liberated from the prison that was her crib. Now, she, Back Seat Girl, owner of a Big Girl Bed, could run free in her room. Only in her room, though, since we live in an old house, and her bedroom door doesn't open without a fight. OK, not a fight, really, but Back Seat Girl is definitely not strong enough to pull it open, even if she could get the knob to work. She didn't seem scared or anything, just happy to see me, like usual. I don't know how long she was up, but it couldn't have been too long considering she wasn't making any noise when I got into the shower, and all of her books were still on her book shelf and none of her dresser drawers were open and there weren't diapers scattered across her floor.

The good news is that when I went to put her down for her nap this afternoon, she stayed put and talked herself to sleep like normal. It's perfectly allright with me if Back Seat Girl decides to get out of her bed in the morning and read books in her room until one of us is ready to get her. Hopefully she just limits getting out of bed to morning time.

Big Girl Bed: Morning One

Last night Back Seat Girl only woke up once, around 11:35. I picked her up and asked her what was wrong, but she couldn't tell me. She never tried to get out of bed, she just cried a little, and then told me to go out into the living room. She whined off and on for about an hour, but since she never really seems to be comforted by one of us going into her room, I let her go. She slept peacefully the rest of the night, and woke up a little before 7, talking like she normally does. When I went into her room she was still in her bed. She was sitting up at the end grabbing at the railing. When she saw me she announced, "I all done seeping in my big giwl bed". I asked her if Pork Roll liked sleeping in the big girl bed, and she replied emphatically,"Yea!". So, all in all, so far it's been a success. She went down for her nap a little while ago and I haven't heard a peep from her. She's definitely a little less sure about it when I first lay her down, but she seems to get over it pretty quickly. I still don't think it's dawned on her that she can get in and out of it on her own, pretty much whenever she wants. Hopefully, she won't realize that for a while.

Today I had a grand plan to go to Veteran's Park with Back Seat Girl where there is a huge playground and nice walking trails. So, we headed outside with the stroller--the big stroller-- and a bag with a few essentials. I opened the garage door, and sharply inhaled. There, in the garage, was not the wagon. Ringo was sitting there, in all his smallness. His smallness that is so small that I can't fit the stoller in the trunk. The only place the stroller will fit is sitting on end in the back seat, and that's precarious, at best. Since Back Seat Girl's car seat is behind the passenger seat, I had to put the stroller behind the driver's seat, but the driver's seat was stuck and wouldn't go down. So, I had to put the stroller behind the driver's seat from the passenger side in a two door car. Not an easy task. That means I had to wrestle it in and out from there at the park with people watching, too. Good times, good times. Oh, and I thought I was so smart last night because I noticed the changing pad and extra diaper in the wagon, so I left them in there so I would be sure to have them along. Also, my cell phone is in there. I hope Driver is enjoying the wagon. Oh, wait, the wagon is sitting in the US Bank parking lot, not doing anyone any good, so Driver can ride his bike that far and drive it the rest of the way home. Did I mention that our bike rack fits on BOTH of the cars? It does.

I almost forgot! I was downstairs putting towels into the washer, and a centipede ran out from one of them right next to my hand. After not screaming like a girl I ran upstairs and did what anyone in their right mind would do, I called Driver and told him to come home right now, because I had laundry to do. Do you know what he said? He said "oh, I've seen one there before (in the piles of dirty laundry waiting to go into the washer), but I decided not to tell you." Yea, why would he tell me when it would mean that possibly his clothes would stop appearing clean and folded on his bed at periodic intervals? So, I told him to find a new laundry fairy. And then he laughed. You would think 6 years of marriage would make him smarter than that.

Big Girl Bed: Night One

BEFORE
One crib, one tired Back Seat Girl.

AFTER
One Big Girl Bed, one tired Back Seat Girl


So far so good, she fell asleep like normal. She went to bed later than usual because of all of the excitement and the time it actually takes to take a crib down and put a new bed up.
The pillow is not cool with her. She also doesn't want the pillow to be touching the bed in any way, even if it's on the floor, and would prefer it to be out of sight at all times. I think she's just so used to sleeping without one.

So, the test will be what she does if she wakes up in the middle of the night, and what she does in the morning. I'll keep you posted.

P.S. If you look closely, you may be able to tell she got her hair cut yesterday. Not just her bangs, an actual all-around trim. And although it's a little shorter, it actually looks better, and her curls are even curlier.

Stay tuned...

The "Big Girl Bed" has been purchased. Tomorrow night it will be put together and then we'll see how Back Seat Girl does. Today she didn't want to take a nap at first because I had already told her she was going to get a big girl bed tonight. So, when nap time rolled around she stood in the middle of her room and shook her head and said,"No, I not nap in the cib. Put the Big Giwl Bed wight hewe" (points to the floor with vigor). Also, she wanted bunk beds once we got there, so hopefully she's not too disappointed tomorrow when she realizes we did not, in fact, purchase her two beds to have in her room.

Hopefully tomorrow there will be a nice, warm fuzzy post about Back Seat Girl falling blissfully asleep in her Big Girl Bed and staying there. Oh, and we'll be sure to post pictures, too.

Motivation

Please No Poop

The other day we went to the uptown art fair and met up with some friends of ours. They have a girl that is a few months older then Back Seat Girl. We had a good time. A long day of walking and playing in the park.
On the way from the art fair to the park we were in our old neighborhood. It was nice to be in our old stomping grounds. A few things changed but it was mostly the same. We went to the "triangle park" where shotgun and I used to stretch after going for a run around the lake. This time around things were different. We were with another couple and their kid. We mostly just played and watched the kids play.
Anyway, on with the poop you say. In our old neighborhood there was a garbage can on the street in front of a pretty nice looking house. This isn't that odd and the can was just your standard City of Minneapolis garbage can. However, this one had a unique message spelled out on it....




So many questions. What made this person put this sign up? Is this an ongoing problem? What kind of poop?

Extreme Helmet Cam

A few of you have already seen this but people keep asking about it.

Here it is! The extreme helmet cam video...

Rug Training

Tonight Back Seat Girl was in rare form. We went to the beach after her nap and then out for pizza on the way home. She took a quick shower with Driver and was running around the house buck naked, chasing the cat around with a stick she had found outside. Driver had given up trying to get her in her jammies and went upstairs to put on some clothes. I was in her room and had managed to dry her off before she took off declaring "I gotta find kitty". She kept running into the kitchen or living room, and then running back to me in her room, and then back out again. I was laughing because who can keep a straight face with a chubby toddler running around the house with her hair dripping wet, shouting "I gotta' do this" and "I gotta' do that".

I was calling for her to come back into her room so we could put her jammies on, and she came streaking down the hallway into her room. She stopped right in front of me, stuck her face into my face, and shouted "I pooped on the rug!". I thought to myself "there is no way she was out there for long enough to actually poop on the rug". But, I figured something must have happened, to I asked her to show me. She was more than happy to oblige. She ran out into the living room and I followed her. "Where?" I asked. "Right there!" she said, pointing to a spot on the rug. A WET spot on the rug. She had peed on the rug. And she seemed proud. And, being the good mother I am, I thought it was funny. I, however, was mature enough not to laugh in front of her. I called for Driver from the bottom of the steps. He came downstairs, and before I could explain what happened, Back Seat Girl announced proudly (still naked as the day she was born) "I peed on the rug!".

Driver, being the good father, told Back Seat Girl she should pee on her potty if she had to pee. She took his advice and sat down on her potty all by herself. She kept announcing "here it comes!", but nothing really ever 'came'. She got a sticker for trying, though, and that is what counts.

Eventually, we did get her dressed and in her bed. It was a pretty hilarious night, though. (Because Driver cleaned up the pee.)

Sorry Mom.

Yup, that's my sweet ass tat. I got it about two weeks ago when I was in Washington D.C. on business. In case you can't tell from the picture, it's located on my left bicep. I figure, when you've got guns like these, you might was well decorate them.
It was a great surprise for Heather. She had no idea this was coming and did not influence me in anyway. That said, now that it's here, she really digs it. I kept it a quiet until I got back from my trip. Then, that night she saw it and exclaimed, "oh, thank God it's fake!". Little did she know it is the real deal.
It took about an hour to get it done and didn't really hurt as much as they say. It felt more like someone was drawing on you with a pen.
You can breathe now, Mom. 

Obviously, I'm in denial

When Driver and I decided to start trying to have another baby, I was excited and couldn't wait to be pregnant again. I remembered my pregnancy with Back Seat Girl as being wonderful and easy, of loving the feeling of her moving around inside of me, and how comfortable maternity pants are. I forgot about being sick and tired for 3 months, and I'm still in denial about how huge and uncomfortable it can be to have a full-grown newborn in your uterus just biding his time to come out.

Also, when I think of having a newborn, thus far I've only remembered Back Seat Girl being tiny and precious, of being able to sleep 5 hours at a time at night when she was only a few days old, of not having to worry about any kind of "schedule" because she would fall asleep no matter the situation, and not having to worry about punishing or teaching or anything like that, because you're only responsibility to a newborn is keeping it alive. I had forgotten about the constant pooping, of the soak pail always full of poopy onsies, of the no nap time in the middle of the afternoon, of how hard it is to get up at 4, even if you did get to sleep 5 hours uninterrupted, of not having time alone at night after your toddler goes to bed at 7:30, or the constant nursing, even if you feel like there is no way in hell the kid could possibly be hungry AGAIN, or the crying for no reason that you can think of.

Today, however, it all came back to me. I was in line at Target. Back Seat Girl was (of course) being an angel, sitting in the cart and (of course) talking. I had finished buying the few things on my list with ease, because all Back Seat Girl needs to keep her happy while running errands is Puppy, Pork Roll, and a bag of cheerios.

There was a woman checking out in front of me. She looked exhausted. She had a little girl in the cart about Back Seat Girl's age, whom she kept having to instruct to sit down. She was holding a tiny baby who was crying with no hope of being comforted. I flashed forward to my life in a few months, and then quickly started concentrating on taking my things out of the cart and putting them on the conveyor belt.

The good news is I'm back in denial. I feel fine, Back Seat Girl is napping, and I picture my life with two babies as being all rosy and wonderful. When I think of the poor, exhausted woman at Target, I just put her out of my head and think of my two perfect, wonderful children, happily smiling at each other while I go about my errands without a care in the world.

*************************************************************************************

Potty Training Update:
Last night before her bath, Back Seat Girl showed renewed interest in her potty, so she sat on it for a while. Nothing came out of her, but I've decided to take her pediatrician's advice and give her one sticker for just sitting and two for actually producing. She was pleased. I was happy she was at least interested in it again.

This morning I got her up and was changing her diaper and I noticed a drop of pee on the changing table. I asked her if she needed to pee, and she enthustiastically said "Yea! I get anoda sticka". So, she went to the potty and promptly peed. Then, as she was finishing breakfast, she looked at me and said "I no have poopy". She says that when she does have to poop, but she wants me to leave her alone about it. I asked her if she wanted to poop on her potty, fully expected her to say no, but she was once again excited about the prospect of more stickers. So, she sat on her potty, and she actually pooped. A lot. I was pretty glad she hadn't done that in her diaper. So, I guess we're back on the potty training wagon again. I do have to say that rinsing all of that poop out of her potty is pretty darn gross, but better than wiping it off her butt.

Is modern prenatal healthcare really necessary?

Today I had a Dr's appointment. Up until now my Dr's appointments have lasted all of about 10 minutes. I check in, get weighed, get my blood pressure taken, get measured, listen to the baby's heartbeat, and then sit there, FULLY CLOTHED, while they ask me how I feel and if I have any questions. Then Back Seat Girl gets stickers, and we're on our merry way.

Today, however, was different. First of all, I haven't been allowed to eat the metric ton of food I normally eat in the morning in order to not feel like complete crap by 11. I had an egg. One measly egg. I tried not to drool as Back Seat Girl drank her milk and enjoyed her breakfast of mini-wheats, bagel and cream cheese, and blueberries (she is a BIG breakfast eater). I just looked away and did dishes and drank a cup of tea.

At nine Back Seat Girl and I showed up to the lab at my clinic, where I received a nice, large cup of orange crap to drink. The rule is you have to finish it in 5 minutes. Since I'd only had an egg and tea all morning (I failed it last time after not eating, um, responsibly before-hand and had to endure a horrible 3 hour glucose tolerance test that made me very ill), I was already feeling a little queasy. While I was drinking, I had to forcibly make myself not vomit, because I knew I'd have to start all over if I heaved. I could not possibly drink any more of that horrible stuff than I had to. I have no idea why that stuff makes me so sick, but it always does.

After I managed to drink the crap, Back Seat Girl and I went upstairs for my appointment. This appointment consisted of me having to take off my pants and get "checked" to make sure there was no early labor starting. Also, while I was sitting on the table with the see-through "sheet" I got asked a ton of questions I wasn't prepared for. The first one was my favorite: How do you feel about labor? Um, it sucks. I would rather not do it. How is one supposed to answer that question? There were questions about epsiotomies, people in the delivery room, circumcision, drugs, the whole nine yards. I'll be 26 weeks pregnant tomorrow. The room that is supposed to be the baby's is still full of all of the crap I've been throwing in there since we moved into this house almost 4 years ago. Also, she put a nice warning on my chart about tending to have quick labors. I've been trying not to think about giving birth in the wagon, but that made it seem like a real possibility.

So, after all of that pleasantness, I got to put my pants back on and walk out into the hallway, where Back Seat Girl was surrounded by no less than 5 woman, fawning all over her, giving her stickers, and telling her how cute she was. She was having a great time.

Back downstairs to the lab, where I was told I had 28 minutes to wait. In the waiting room. With a 2 year old. Did I mention this waiting room was full of older people? It was. So, we read a book, ate graham crackers (I actually spit one out when I remembered I was supposed to not be eating anything), looked at the fishies in the pediatrician's office, read another book, and played with my car keys. Then, Back Seat Girl decided she was going to announce to me she was "looking at somebody". No one was paying any attention to her. I had no idea who she was talking about. Then, she said "I shy of people". While she was saying this, she was standing in front of a chair, leaning back on it so her tummy was showing, and grinning from ear to ear. She repeated this a few more times, and a woman across the waiting room started laughing. After asking me how old Back Seat Girl was, she said "She doesn't seem too shy to me!" When Back Seat Girl grew tired of pretending to be shy, she decided to take her sandal off. When that didn't satisfy her boredom, she took my sandal off. And this is when, of course, they call my name. So, I put my shoe on, threw Back Seat Girl's shoe in the diaper bag, and carried her one-shoed little self into the little room where they draw the blood. This meant, of course, she had to walk back out into the waiting room with just one shoe on since she didn't want me to pick her up and had to "do it myself".

After re-shoeing her naked little foot, we went back upstairs where I got a painful shot of Rhogam in my posterior, just in case I had a little bit of dignity left. By this time I've only had an egg, a cup of tea, and a brimming cup of orange crap to eat. I had woken up at 6:30 and it was 10:30. Maybe for some people (Paris Hilton), this would have been enough for a whole day. Not for me. I was queasy and starving, and my butt hurt, and there was about a yard of tape on my arm where they had drawn my blood, just to make sure they got some of the hairy part of my arm in there. Some day, little Baby Boy will realize what I did for him, but until that day, he, just like his sister now, will assume I am here to feed him, play with him, bath him, wipe his butt, amuse him, and basically exist for his all-around comfort and enjoyment. I guess that's just part of the circle of life.