Odds and Ends

So my days are filled with laughter and joy these days. Yes, there are days that I am so exhausted I can't even stand myself. And M struggles with exhaustion too. But overall, I just can not believe how lucky we are to have these two perfect little girls.

The days, they run together. Sometimes I even forget to shower. But there are things that stick out in my memory and make me giggle. So here are a few of them....

Out of the mouth of babes:
I was trying to burp Jellybean. When Monkey asked me what I was doing, upon hearing my explanation she said "oh, daddy burps!" and I about fell over laughing. M looked askance as if to say, who me? Busted!

More than I needed to know:
I was giving Monkey a bath tonight. She leaned forward, grimaced a little, and let forth a sally of farts that would make any guy proud. Then, in case I missed it? She said "I farted"....Good lord, why did I ever teach her that word?

It isn't you, it's me:
I was nursing Jellybean on the couch (a loveseat, really, not too big), using the boppy pillow (which takes up a good amount of space) when Monkey walked up to me and announced "I need more space mommy".......I had a momentary flashback to at least one unfortunate breakup in my past and started laughing....Monkey was not pleased. She was trying to sit next to me and the boppy was taking up too much room.

She is SO going to Madison, WI for College:
Jellybean is a grade-A burper. I mean this girl can give any beer belching Badger a run for the money! She is SO going to my alma mater....I can just tell already. All she needs to do is learn how to shotgun a beer and she's a lock. None of this namby pamby N'Western stuff.... heh. (yes, M's alma mater...why else would I slam it? he he he )

I thought you were supposed to practice this on a pillow:
I was putting Monkey to bed the other night, and she requested something that wasn't in the room. When I returned with the desired item I found her still in bed, with a book in her hands.....and she was KISSING it! I mean, I know she loves books, but that takes the cake. Stinking cute. And hilarious. Some day she'll be kissing boys, but until then, books are her love. I remember getting threatened with grounding if I was caught reading in bed past my bedtime....so she comes by this naturally. I love it.

Off to tend to my girls. G'night all.

MMM, tasty

What is it about Christmas that brings out the child in us? I think that yesterday I ate my bodyweight in homemade cookies (thanks Nana!), hard candy, frango mints, etc. etc. etc. Heck of a way to lose the baby fat but....oh...it was soooooo good!

We had a wonderful Christmas. It was just - the best.

Monkey was hilarious. She had so many presents that by the end of the day we were actually imploring her to open the rest of them. Since she had helped open everyone else's presents she was had present-fatigue. Who knew that could even exist! We all resolved to be more judicious in giving her presents next year. (ten bucks the grandparents can't do it! grandparents are awesome....)

Meanwhile Jellybean continued to pig out, too. She's doing a good job of her job of eating, sleeping and pooping. Way to go kid! We still don't know what color her eyes will be....yes, it takes a few weeks, but I can't resist holding her face to the light and peering into her beautiful eyes to try and figure it out! They started out with that newborn blue haze, but now are grey. She has a chance of blue eyes since M's mom (Nana) has blue eyes, as do I, but we shall see....

My little brother and his wife G continue with the awesome (OH YOU ARE SUCH SHITS YOU TWO!) presents to Monkey. This time? BONGOS! My neighbors are sooo going to hate me.

On being two....

So earlier today I mentioned that Monkey is two. With a cold. And teething.

Which........led to 25 minutes (I timed her) of a temper tantrum because I wouldn't give her the serving spoon at lunchtime.

She was eating peaches with her own spoon. But she wanted the serving spoon. Because CLEARLY it was superior to her spoon. I said no, she had a spoon already. And when she lost her sh*t I decided not to give into the tantrum. On principle, plus I thought she'd get over it.

25 loooooooooooooooooooooooooong minutes later she was still screaming and crying about the spoon. Thankfully I finally distracted her with a fork.

Piglet

So Monkey has recovered from the stomach flu. But now suffers from teething, a cold, and being two. Phew. Did I mention the being two part?

Meanwhile, Jellybean visited the pediatrician (again) to be visually inspected for jaundice and weighed. Her color looks good, and we're supposed to keep up the light exposure. And for the record, the pediatrician actually recommended that I nurse in front of the windows with the blinds up to expose her to as much sun as possible....so neighbors? I apologize for the gratuitous nudity....and yeah, these are my boobs, and um, well enjoy the sights!

Jellybean is putting on weight at a nice clip. She's now exceeded her birth weight and put on 10 ounces in the last four days. PIGLET! Yesterday she was eating with such gusto that M asked if she wanted some bbq sauce to go with it....it was funnier at the time than it sounds now. Trust me. Seriously. (Ok, so if you are sleep deprived it is hilarious!!!!)

Well, off to watch Wall*E for the 15,899,203rd time. Monkey got it for Christmas and it has saved my bacon (and sanity) quite a few times these past two days, while she's been sick and moping about the couch.

Figures

So I finally post, and it is all lightness and good, puppies and rainbows, right? All is good tra la la la la..............


And...............Monkey gets the stomach flu.

f'ing Murphy's law.

I'm back, dear readers

Can I tell you that I have two perfect daughters now? I feel just greedy! Like who gets to be this lucky????

(oh and I just woke up from a power nap and am sipping diet coke while nibbling on peppermint bark candy, so forgive me if this is scattered. Plus the percocet just kicked in, too.....SUGAR AND CAFFEINE AND DRUGS WOOHOO!!! heh )

On Friday December 12th at 9:45 am, Jellybean was born. She's perfect. Did I mention that yet? She's perfect. And, while Monkey named her Jellybean while I was pregnant, the name turned out to be somewhat prophetic, as her little sister is tiny! A whopping 6 lbs and 18 and 3/4 inches long. Monkey, on the other hand, was 7.1lbs and something ridiculous like 21 inches long - that kid was skinny and looooong. Jellybean is skinny and short. Plus, you know, the comparison to her flesh and blood 26 lbs sister makes her seem miniature, and all the more fragile!

Jellybean suffered from jaundice, and spent several days under the lights. It was harder on me to not be able to hold her than anything else. She's now passed followup tests with flying colors and will slowly lose the yellowish cast over the coming weeks. She never glowed yellow, if anything she just looked like she'd used some self-tanning lotion, so all thing being equal that was a a wonderfully simple complication. And yes, I know about the awful yellow tint from my own forays into self-tanning. And no, you can't see any photos.

I have decided that planned c-sections are SO much better than emergency c-sections. I was present and lucid during the birth, remember my time in the hospital, and generally feel awesome in comparison to last time. Now, don't get me wrong - the pain is still intense when the percocet wears off, but man this is a walk in the park compared to last time! Plus, and I know this will make my family and closest friends chuckle.....this time I am actually asking for help. And lo and behold!!!!!!!!!!!!! My beloved and saintly family members (M, grandma, 'andpa and Heather) have helped!!!! Amazing, this asking for help business. Shoulda done it earlier. (like maybe a few decades ago? but I digress...). Last time I was too stubborn to ask for help, convinced I could do it myself. This time? NO shame. NONE. And I'm healing much, much better.

Monkey is doing remarkably well in this dethroning process. Now, she's still throwing tantrums like an insane two-year old...but then again, she's an insane two year old.

Monkey is excited in principle about her sister, but in reality is somewhat indifferent to her presence. To wit: Day one at the hospital, when she met her sister, she was very excited to hold her for 10 seconds. We got photos and then she got her penguin. She was THRILLED about the penguin, and also wanted to continue eating her goldfish crackers (a new favorite treat). The penguin went home and the crackers stayed at the hospital. Day two, Monkey's first question upon arriving at my room was "where's Jellybean" while the second question was "where are my goldfish (crackers)?". Day three? She just asked for the goldfish. She cracks me up.

Jellybean calls. More later.

Geeked up

Tomorrow is my second daughter's birthday. Wow. I should be sleeping, since that is a precious commodity we won't get much of in the coming days and weeks.

But I'm too geeked up to sleep...all I can think about is how tomorrow morning at 8:30am I am scheduled to bring Baby girl Carter #2 into the world. And I am excited!!!

M is geeked up too. Words escape us. We are just walking around the apartment smiling.

One last night as a family of three (plus cat). Wow.

M wants to know if I"m renaming the blog. Any suggestions?

Catch you all on the flip side. When I'm a mom to two!

A slight revision

Ok, so yesterday I wrote about how next Friday is all about the grandparents. And it is, most of the time, at least according to Monkey.

But this morning? When I dropped her off for school? And I reminded her that today is PIZZA FRIDAY? And asked her what was happening next Friday?

She yelled out..........MY BABY SISTER!!!!!!!!!!!

My jaw hit the floor. And the skies opened up and angels sang. And I'll tell you this......the first, second, third and 50th times that Monkey acts out because she's unhappy to share mommy and daddy's attention with Jellybean - I'll remember that moment. Because it was sheer unadulturated bliss for me. Seeing the joy on her face as she mentioned her baby sister.

I'm going to hold on to that memory, carrying it around with me until it's tattered and worn, and use it as a crutch to get through the cranky times ahead.

Countdown to Big Sister Day

Every Friday is special at Monkey's Montessori - because it is PIZZA FRIDAY. And while it is ridiculous to write that out in caps, I'm pretty sure that's how Monkey thinks of it. Funny how a little tradition makes her happy. Plus, she just likes pizza. And after months of being denied (while she outgrew her milk allergy) it is nice to be able to join in the fun with her classmates.

Recently M and I have been talking to Monkey about how next Friday is Big Sister Day. So that she's got ownership of the day, and it isn't just about her little sister, Jellybean. It will be rough to learn to share the spotlight, so we want to get her an enthused as possible.

But really, we should just stop talking about being a big sister and the baby and what babies do blah blah blah. Because really, the only thing that gets her revved up is knowing that Grandma and Andpa and Nana and Grandad are coming to see her. Now THAT gets her excited.

It makes me so happy - Monkey loves her grandparents. A lot.

Well, that, or she remembers that every time they come to visit she gets presents or candy. Ok, it's a toss up there, folks......

Hmm, where to start

Dear reader, it's been a week since I've posted. Forgive me....it's been a tad bit busy at the Insane household.

So, where to start.

Thanksgiving came and went. Still eating leftovers. Still thinking they are yummy!

My sinus infection came and went. After three hours at the doctor's office (and no, I am NOT kidding about this one. I was there so long I fell freakin' asleep on the examination table. Boo - long wait. Wahoo - nap!) and after much dithering about whether or not to give me antibiotics, I blew my nose and showed off the spectacular color of the contents of my kleenex. Antibiotics were prescribed immediately. Next time I'm blowin' and showin' faster.

I think M has been to Target every other day, stocking up on 'stuff' we need for Jellybean. Diapers and wipes and pacifier clips and lions and tigers and bears oh my. He keeps muttering how a shower woulda' been nice. You know, so he wouldn't have to schlep every single baby item on earth home after work each night and could start his dinner before 8:30pm....but don't mind him. He is nesting as much as I am, and can't wait to meet his daughter!

And, well, thank g*d for this one - our beloved cat Ollie has started to eat again. I know that sounds as boring as can be. But when your beloved cat (FIRST BORN! HRM!!!) stops eating and starts to waste away for no good reason, your heart breaks. And breaks. And breaks. I am profoundly grateful that she is getting better. I want her to be around long enough for Jellybean to get to know her, and claim her as "her Ollie cat" the same way Monkey does.

I am also profoundly grateful that A) Monkey did break her neck when she fell off of the swing onto her face and then rolled over, the hard way, onto her back and B) I did not lose her (literally, not figuratively) when she got onto the elevator by herself at school and went on up to the 8th floor without me. Yes, while she was under my supervision. I SO am qualified to raise two kids, considering how well I'm minding one. I'd post more about losing Monkey at school but it still makes me sick to my stomach. Let's just say that those were worst 3 minutes of my life, ever. And be done with it.

Sleep, blessed sleep

So after taunting the gods, M was a little bit tired last night.

So tired that the first thing he said to me this morning was "I am SO SORRY I didn't get up with you last night. I was just....asleep."

The "I was just...asleep" part is what cracks me up. So eloquent. So true. So....damn obvious last night as he was snoring to high heaven! (we're lucky we still have paint on the walls....)

Dude, knock on wood next time!

Tempting the gods, or, he'll never say THAT again

So this weekend was a bit of a repeat of last weekend:

1) We had a sick daughter and visited the pediatrician. Copious amounts of ibuprofin were consumed.

2) We had a sick cat and visited the veterinarian. Copious amounts of 409 cleaner were used to wipe up cat vomit.

3) Aaaaaaannnnnddd........we didn't get that much sleep. Understatement. HUGE understatement.

M got less sleep than me, because in a fit of absolute generosity he let me sleep in on Sunday AND take a nap. Which greatly helped alleviate the exhaustion I was suffering from being 1) 8.5 months pregnant and 2) getting the crappiest nights of sleep I've had in ages, compliments of crying child and puking cat. (See #1 & #2, above, for details.)

Now, my brain is pretty much addled today because I've been up since 4:30am (see #1, above). But I am pretty sure that sometime this weekend, M commented to me that's he's getting used to this no-sleep business. You know, like it's no big deal. And then, right on cue, we had some of the crappiest nights of sleep in ages.

WOE. We should NOT be tempting the gods like that. I'm betting that right about now, as the afternoon wears on and on and the sky gets dark, that M is really wishing he'd bitten his tongue. Or knocked on wood. You know, something, ANYTHING!, to rebut his nonchalant statement that he could handle no sleep.

Here we go again

I feel like we should put the pediatrician on speed dial.

It is 4am and I am wide awake after settling Monkey back down. She has been alternating between awesome, cranky and listless the last two days - but no fever - so we've just chalked it up to being two.

But tonight as she went to bed she complained that her ears hurt.

Poor little girl. She had some ibuprofin around 9pm as we were trying to settle her down for the night, and sure enough, 6 hours later when the meds wore off she woke up crying. Tylenol this round. Doctors office in the morning.

Meanwhile, Ollie has spent the greater part of the last two days puking first hair balls and then just bile.

And I am awake. Wishing I could make all my creatures feel better.

As soon as my tylenol eases my headache I'll crawl back into bed.

Dawn breaks early in the swamp. See you all in two hours.........

Bread and Jam

All I can tell you is that laughing when you are more than 35 weeks pregnant is a fun adventure. Your belly moves up and down and you can't breath. And that is, in and of itself, also funny. So you laugh some more....

Why was I laughing? Well, if you must know: Monkey loves bread and jam. So much so that I had to ask her to BLOW her nose.....................

..........you know, so I could get the jam out. She was eating it a bit - um - exuberantly this morning.

Whoops

Remember back in elementary school, when you first started having crushes on the opposite sex? And how there were some kids that just didn't quite know how to express their admiration for that special someone, and went a little overboard? And how there was always one little girl or boy that EVERYONE loved, and they got a little pissy about it?

That's Ollie. She's that special someone.

I say this because the love fest between Monkey and Ollie continues unabated.

But Monkey just....doesn't quite know how to woo Ollie.

I mean, she gets it in principle, but it doesn't always work out in practice.

Which is why she spent a good amount of time chasing Ollie around the apartment last night, hollering "SORRY SORRY SORRY OLLIE CAT" at the top of her lungs. As poor Ollie ran for the hills and looked at me balefully. Like it was MY fault that Monkey kept trying to play with her with the new cat wand, and you know, kept beaning her in the head.

Sheesh cat, glare at M - he's the one that paid for the damn toy.

Another GIRL!!!!!!!!!!!

Huzzah! My little brother and his gorgeous wife (parents to HP) are having a girl! (And she's healthy - that's really the best part of their scan today.)

The tribe of bossy girls is growing. God, this is going to be fun. And OHMYGOD are the teen years going to be interesting!

My Ollie Cat

Ollie, our beloved geriatric cat (even when she misbehaves, she's still loved) has always been "my" cat.

M likes to joke that she wants to kill him off, so that she can have his side of the bed. And, admittedly - when he's out of town? Ollie sleeps on his side of the bed, purring away and thrilled at the complete access to me. She'd sleep ON me, but this whole "sleep on your left side or kill your unborn child schtick" makes it hard to perch on me. And yes, I'm REALLY looking forward to sleeping on my back again.

Sunday we took Ollie into the vet for her annual physical, shots and teeth-cleaning. Monkey came with us, since her frighteningly high fever of the day before (104.8 and boy is that spooky - her pediatrician had to assure me that her brain was not cooking in its own juices) was down to a reasonable 99-100 or so. She got a little clingy/whiney so I brought her into the examination room with me while Ollie got the sedative shot so she could get her teeth cleaned. (what, you think that otherwise she'd willingly LET them clean her teeth? um yeah, she's old, not docile!)

Monkey seemed ok with this, but when we left to get lunch at a local diner (to return an hour later to retrieve Ollie), she was bereft. She was crying over and over for "my Ollie cat" and saying "I want my kitty cat."

M and I looked at each other and smiled. Our hearts were simultaneously breaking and expanding with joy. Monkey loves Ollie! We never knew just how attached she was to Ollie until right then.

Ollie is no longer "my" cat. She belongs to Monkey.

Treat her well my daughter. Give her lots of love and affection. Comb and pet her beautiful fur gently. Feed her treats.

And remember, when you wave the cat dancer toy, try not to bean her on the head with the stick each time....or "your" cat might just bite you. With love, of course!

There's a bad moon on the rise

Yesterday when I picked Monkey up from school she was doing a great job of walking down the street and holding my hand. So I told her that. And added that I was very proud of her.

As I was drawing breath to say "you are such a big girl" - which is the text that always follows "I'm proud of you" - Monkey interrupted me.

In a calm voice she said three sentences. Three short sentences that caused my hair to stand on end.....even as I wanted to laugh out loud.

What did she say to cause apprehension to coil in my belly?

1) I'm not a big girl.
2) I'm not a sister.
3) No baby.

And then she just calmly kept walking.

29 days to go until #2 arrives. We are SO in for it.

My life in text messages...

(late last night):

Txt to Heather: She won't lay down and is sitting in bed reading to herself....it's been an hour. G#d help me she is going to be the death of me.

(early this morning):

Txt to Heather: She slept!!!! 1030 to 540am!!!!!

Txt from Heather: Congrats!!
Txt from Heather: And...Ollie?

Txt to Heather: Ollie was good too!!!

Txt from Heather: So I guess no ebay today.

Txt to Heather: Nope. Ask again tomorrow.

Phew

So it is almost 4pm............and NO CALL from Monkey's school! Huzzah! Croup did not ruin her nap and day and cause them to call me saying my child was turning blue and couldn't breath.

Not that my tired brain would imagine such dire situations. Nope, I'm all sunshine and optimism when I am operating on 4.5 hours of interrupted sleep.

That is all folks. I take my victories as they come.

Invitation to my pity party?

I am 34 weeks pregnant and in addition to general intestinal misery, my body hurts. Sleep is elusive, even when I am in bed.

My cat keeps taking dumps on the floor of the bathroom in the middle of the night.

M, my beloved husband, is on the other side of the world (Geneva, Switzerland).

Monkey now has croup. After steaming her, I sat in her room and listened to her breath for a few hours last night. You know, to make sure she COULD breath. Croup is spooky in the middle of the night.

I am extraordinarily busy at work.

I just want to not be me right now.

You bring the cheese, I'll bring the whine............

Cat (gently used) 4 Sale - CHEAP!

So, the adventure continues. Monkey woke at 4am. But (thank G*D I'm getting better at this middle of the night crap...just in time for #2) I got her to sleep and was back in bed by 4:45am. SUCESSS! I ROCK!!!

Yeah. Until some 20 odd minutes later when I was woken out of what was promising to become a deep slumber by my CAT. YOWLING. In that exact same high pitch that sounds like Monkey keening.....so of course I bolted straight up, convinced she was awake again. Pulse racing, I verified that Monkey was still sleeping and went back to bed.

Heartburn. OK, up for some medicine and a glass of milk. Feed the cat and return to bed yet again. It is now 5:25am.

Lay awake for a few minutes.....and then smell something suspiciously similar to cat shit wafting through the air...but hear nothing, no litter being scratched. Get up to investigate and voila! Cat shit on the bathmat. Why? No clue - the f'ing litter box is right there, clean, and Ollie has been fed.

I fume. I put on gloves to clean the mess up (since - OH YES, it IS so - M is out of town) and officially give up on sleeping.

Check email and learn M landed in Geneva safely. Reply with growly email about wanting to sell cat to the gypsies. Consider posting an add on Craig's List for gently used cat.

5:45am. Hop in shower and pray Monkey won't wake up while I'm in there. Take the world's fastest shower and pop out to.....silence.

Creep around the apartment. Verify that child and cat and now both sleeping, blissful and adorable in their repose.

It's a damn good thing, too, or the gypsies would totally be raking it in this week...

The four horses of the apocalypse

I could hear their hoofs drumming down the hallway last night. You know, between the hours of 2am and 4:30am when Monkey was WIDE AWAKE and throwing a tantrum instead of self-soothing and going back to bed.

Either that, or it was my pulse throbbing behind my eyeballs as I was simultaneously exasperated, sympathetic, generally pissed off AND exhausted. Sure sounded like horses to me....

Of course, true to form she woke up in a spectacular mood. Charming, cheerful, happy to see us, and a complete and utter pleasure to be around. She even begged for an extra goodbye kiss from her Daddy.


Shoot, just as I was planning on selling her to the gypsies....

Must....get....sleep

So, the whole Big Girl Bed experiment continues.

Sleep has become a hit or miss experience recently....

We have had some success.

We've had some failures.

Today started at 3:30am. Monkey woke up. Got worked up. Begged for Mommy. Begged for Daddy. Whined for bread and jam. Whinged for the DVD "Ice Age." Devolved into the most spectacular tantrum I've ever seen her throw. And then ended up sleeping, blissfully, in my lap, from 5:15am to 6:45am.

M did not sleep. I slept a wee bit, when she was in my lap. As much as I could considering I had 50 lbs of baby pressing down on my (full) bladder. I'm sure Jellybean appreciated the company but DUDE WE ARE SO F'ING TIRED NOW.........

So tired, in fact, that this morning M managed to put on a black belt and brown shoes. I know, I know.........the world stopped spinning and went backwards there for a moment. He would NEVER do that in real life.

Hmm, wow - where to start

Yikes. So much to post in a few short days!

1) Monkey is not a fan of daylight savings and insists on waking up at 5:30am. Oy.

2) Monkey is a rock star (and, she'll actually say that to you - it's freakin' hilarious!) and moved into the Big Girl Bed in the Big Girl Room (capitalization on purpose!). The crib and nursery are no longer in use. Except to hold the boxes of stuff that belong to Jellybean.

3) Now that Monkey is in the Big Girl Bed, naps are a wee bit unstructured. (Oh, I know this because her school was closed on Election Day for parent-teacher conferences). And by unstructured I mean that I was in there with her for - hmmmm - oh AN HOUR AND A HALF convincing her to be quiet. Because the ability to gather MORE BOOKS was damn-near frying her brain from the excitement. Exhaustion finally over took her and she fell asleep with 17 books in her Bed with her. I know this because I counted them. And, while this is so ridiculous it is sublime, I confess that I kind of find it adorable. I love books that much, too. What can I say, she's my kid!

4) And, on the topic of being my kid.....I am no longer numero uno in her world. Daddy is. She's hurt? She asks for daddy. She's mad at me? She asks for daddy. She wakes up cranky (see #1, above) and needs a little love before the day starts? Yup, she wants her daddy. And every time she pushes me away and yowls for daddy? My heart melts a little bit. My time away in Denver really re-uppped their bond. And to quote Martha, "it's a good thing."

5) Now, to quote my beloved little brother? "Nicely done America!" I am proud to say that I am still wearing my Obama '08 button. I don't know that I want to take it off. And if you want to know why M and I got no sleep election night? Check out this link - between the students cheering, the media heliocopters filming the celebration in Harlem, and the impromptu parade down our block at 12:30am, we got no sleep. And it was worth it!

Say my name, say my name

An update. Monkey has revised her name of her baby sister.

She is now officially known as "jelly bean." And I have no idea why.

Five, Six, Seven, Eight, we won't nap or sleep in late!

Ugh. I was going to call this post "A death in the family" but thought that might startle readers.....because it's the death of the nap, the beloved beloved DEEPLY NEEDED nap. Not a human. Although it might be the death of me. Heh.

That's right. Monkey is on a nap strike. Commence wailing and gnashing of teeth and demonstrations of anguish and desolation.

On both Saturday and Sunday, the only way I could get her to go down for a nap was to hold her in my lap until she was asleep, and then gently lower her into the crib. I'm surprised that my legs are still attached; both times I stood up and almost keeled over, having lost all feeling in the leg that was under Monkey. Only the the unpleasant pins-and-needles sensation of blood reanimating my leg let me know it was still there.

Then, the nap strike bled into bedtime. Saturday night did not go well. She stood in her crib and screamed bloody murder. Last night was worse. We started the process at 8pm and THREE HOURS LATER she fell asleep. At least I think it was 11pm. It may have actually been later. I don't know. I should have been asleep at 9pm myself, so forgive me for being a wee bit tired. M was beyond exhausted, but managed to sweet talk Monkey into staying in her crib while he read to her from the chair. And she fell asleep.

I think our neighbors hate us; during that three hour period I think she may have screamed for an hour or two. Straight.

We figured she'd sleep in this morning, only to be summoned at 5:50am.(Daylight savings is not our friend.)

Here's hoping that this is a phase. A brattalicious hellacious phase. Please?

Building Forts. Or, how to make a shambles of my living room in 30 seconds or less.....

A story in pictures:

Going green

I grew up in a household that believed in saving on electric bills. Which is to say that an an early age, I got into the good habit of turning lights off that weren't in use. Of course now it is as much about going "green" as it is saving on bills, but still - now that I pay the bills? SO glad this is an ingrained habit.

Monkey, on the other hand, isn't quite as enamored of my frugality. Mostly because I turned the lights off on her last night when I walked out of the kitchen.

The indignant "lights, please?!!!" was priceless. I was still chuckling 5 minutes later.

It's a girl thing (or, are they related or what!)

The weather this fall has really spoiled us. I know, there's that lovely song about loving New York in spring....but fall here has spring beat every single time.

That is, until yesterday. When it was 40-some odd degrees out and raining sideways. Ugh. COLD!

I, of course, being of sound mind and body, have refused to break down and buy a maternity jacket. I suppose I was irrationally hoping to actually make it to 12/12 (and beyond, really, since I'm no Angelina Jolie and will still have a belly once I deliver BabyGirlCarter#2) without having to do anything other than wear layers. Under a bright red raincoat. Because that's the only thing that fits me. I know - what an image. I look like a bright red beach ball with legs. MMM, I'm bringing sexy back! (disclosure - I actually broke down and bought a jacket, recommended by my sister in law G, and am anxiously awaiting it's arrival from target.com)

However, this post isn't about my coat issues. It is about Monkey's coat issues.

See, this delusion that the warm weather would continue? Led to me not buying a new winter coat for Monkey. Poor thing.

So, we've been layering each morning to ensure she gets to school without turning into an ice block. She's just plain ole' cranky about having to put on two coats.

"Harrumph, one is enough, mom" is her attitude....and let me tell you, it is
capital A attitude! Bossy little thing.

I shared this tidbit with G, and turns out.........her insane toddler, HP, also has coat "issues" in the morning. Now, since Boulder is lovely and still warm out, this isn't an issue of preventing frostbite. Still, HP makes them go through 3 or 4 coats in the morning before she will actually put one on! "Developing a fashion sense already" is how her mother describes her.

They are so alike, it cracks me up. I forsee a lot of fun in the future, when HP and Monkey hang out. And either raid their mothers' closets for something to wear....or raid their mothers' closets so that they can roll around on the floor and say things like "I KNOW, can you believe she actually WEARS that?"

Seismic activity

BabyGirlCarter#2 is a decidedly active child in utero.

Yesterday, when I was at my 32 week checkup, the doctor was about to ask about her activity when BGC#2 vigorously kicked the sonogram. A loud thunk reverberated in the room and my doctor laughed. Question answered.

Today, she's been preoccupied with doing "the wave." And yes, I mean exactly what that sounds like. She starts on the right side of my abdomen and the ripple of activity moves across and all the way to the left. As in small pointy appendages pummeling me from within. Over and over again.

Earlier today I commented on this activity to a colleague who was standing near me. She laughed, and confirmed she could see exactly what I was talking about....although by now, I'm pretty sure you could see this from outer space.

Hi kid. Nice to know you're going to take after your big sister.

Back in the saddle again

I am proud to report that Monkey missed me a little bit while I was gone, but only a little.

When I came home on Sunday night, she was thrilled to see me. But really, she was mostly thrilled to show me the pumpkin she carved with Daddy and Cousin Heather on Saturday night. She kept asking to turn the lights off, so we could look at the pumpkin (with its candle lit). "Oooh, spooky" was what I taught her to say.

It is really nice to be home.

More later. Including photos of my niece HP and stories about my time in Colorado!

Every little thing she does is magic....

I'm going to Denver this week for work. So everything that Monkey does, I see through the viewfinder of "damn, I"m going to miss this kid while I'm gone..."

That's all. Nothing melodramatic, funny or even vaguely interesting to say. I'm just going to miss my insane toddler.

Let's do the time warp again

Monkey's new thing?

When I approach her, and she is busy (reading, playing, whatevah...) and does NOT want to be disturbed....

She says "walk away Mommy, walk away!"

Um, where is my toddler and when did you become a teenager? Did I miss the time warp?

Them bones

Rumor has it (if I read webMD and babycenter and all other sources of infinitely facsinating sources of information on being knocked up correctly) that now, at 30 weeks, baby's bones are hardening.

Duh. I could have told you that. Ow.

Tongue twister

Recently, Monkey has taken to saying "thank you SOOOO much" which pretty much cracks us up. It's something about how she emphasizes SOOOO - it doesn't look funny on paper (or blog) but trust me, it is adorable. I don't know if she got it from me, from M, or from school, but I like it. No reason not to be extra polite, right?

Now, being only a whopping 27 months old, sometimes she mixes up her sentences. So last night, when she said goodnight to daddy, I'm pretty sure she meant to say "I love you too..."

Instead? She said "I love you TOO much."

Snort. Right back atcha kiddo.

Sunshine and roses

Well, in comparison to a few days ago, Monkey's mornings both yesterday and today were full of sunshine and roses. Maybe her cold has passed (turns out lots of her classmates at school are now uber cranky with head colds....).

Yesterday we walked to school (i.e., Monkey was in the stroller and I walked the 27 odd blocks). She sang and chattered and had me read Winnie the Pooh meets Gopher (the abridged version) again and again.

Today we took the bus, and Monkey spent most of the time commenting on how slippery the seat was (and then scooting around on her butt and giggling) or asking why. You know, why did the bus stop? Why did the little boy get off the bus? Why can't I have ice cream (as we passed a delivery van decorated in pictures of ice cream). Why why why.

Somedays, it is just such a pleasure to be her mom. I love that kid. Even after answering 1450 "why" questions in a 30 minute commute.

Wrong side of the bed (crib, whatever...)

Poor Monkey, she really was a disaster this morning.

She's not feeling well, with a cold, and that made her miserable, and then every thing kept going wrong.

Like what? Well......I opened the door to the kitchen and smushed her foot/scraped her little toe. (Cue award music for mother of the year.)

Then she tried to grab a heavy book out of her crib and dropped it on her foot. Same one, bien sur.

And then, adding insult to injury, the cat hissed at her when she hugged poor Ollie too vigorously. I think that was the straw that broke the camel's back. Monkey just looked at me and sobbed.

If she were a few years older, I think she would have just told me she was going back to bed for the day. That or said "it's five o'clock somewhere in the world" and cracked open a beer.

An unmitigated failure

As part of the preparation for babygirlcarter#2's immininent arrive in 8 weeks 4 days (but who's counting, really), we need to move Monkey to her big girl bed.

In her big girl room....

On the other side of the apartment.....

Without all her toys, books, and artwork on the wall that make it "her" room......

And which presently looks like the receiving bay of a goodwill or salvation army drop-off site. Replete with boxes of books, detritus, used coats, electronic odds and ends, and you know - stuff.

That sort of chaos makes me itch. Yes, because I'm anal and I love a clean and tidy apartment. It makes M itch even more, because he abhors clutter like...hmm, roaches hate Raid? It's a strong aversion, let's just leave it at that.

So, it shouldn't have surprised us that Monkey didn't like this room either. She IS our child, after all.

Still, we tried on both Saturday and Sunday to get her to take a nap in her big girl bed. In theory, she's over-the-moon excited about this option. She begs to sit on her bed, and when you ask if she's going to nap there you get an "oh YES" and vigorous head nodding.

Reality was a wee bit different. Tantrum central: crying, wailing, gnashing of teeth and throwing herself at the door. Oy.

So she slept in her crib. Even there we had to let her cry it out - she'd worked herself up so much there was no other option.

We have a lot of work to do. We need to transform the pit of hell, um the big girl room, into an actual big girl's room. Wish us luck.

So Hey! See you at the Salvation Army drop off this weekend!

One less thing to worry about

So, dear readers, as you know from recent posts, we have been quizzing Monkey about what to name her little sister.

Mostly, this has been to entertain ourselves, but we forgot to let Monkey in on the joke.

Last night, as M and I went to bed, I have to admit that I laid there and just laughed and laughed and laughed. Because Monkey has an honest to goodness opinion about what to name her little sister, and will not move from her position. She's selected the name, dammit, so why must we keep quizzing her! She's so earnest, too, when she tells us the name. It about breaks my heart with cuteness.

So, as M put it - that's one less thing to worry about! (and no, we're not telling you what the name is. and no cheating by asking Monkey)

And so it begins

No, not potty training. What has begun is the dearth of answers.....prompted by the little three-letter word dreaded by all parents - that's right, "why." (four letter words? hell, no problem...)

You know....

Why is the sky blue?
Why did Mike Mulligan and MaryAnn dig the canals?
Why is there a bus on the street?
Why is there a plane in the sky?
Why did the people get off the bus?
Why
Why Why WHY WHY WHY

First, you give the scientific answers. The sky is blue because that is the wavelength of light reflected.

Then, you make answers up. Mike Mulligan and MaryAnn dug the canals because that is their job. Or the bus is on the street so people can get places and that lady is hungry for her supper.

But then your answers beget more questions. Why does that lady want her supper? She's hungry. Why?

And, folks, eventually you are left with the exasperated "dunno" answer. Eventually, all the "whys" wear you down to a wordless nub of a human being.

And that's when it gets interesting. You know, in your heart of heart, that what ever you say will prompt another question. And, you know, that she'll remember and possibly even repeat the things you've said outloud.

So, how do you make up creative answers that satiate her curiosity, entertain yourself (and anyone eavesdropping next to you on the bus), and maybe JUST MAYBE let you move the conversation forward?

Inquiring minds want to know.

And then.....nothing

So, since the latest and greatest experience in potty training????


N.O.T.H.I.N.G.




This kid is taking her own damn sweet time.

Monkey's first autograph

Yesterday we took Monkey to The Great Children's Read on the Columbia University Campus. It was awesome. The fields were full of kids, listening to authors reading their very own books outloud, dancing to They Might Be Giants, and generally geeking out about literacy.

Monkey had a grand old time. We were fortunate enough to listen to John Bemelmans Marciano read Madeline and the Cats of Rome. (John is the grandson of Ludwig Bemelmans, who wrote the original Madeline). And then, armed with a copy of the book (purchased right there in the Target book tent - got to show Target some love if they are promoting literacy!!), we stood in line and had the author autograph the book. It was SO COOL! (and yes, I'm a geek)
We were fortunate enough to get to chat with the author for a bit, and M told him that Monkey loved the original Madeline so much she had much of it memorized. I'm pretty sure that the guy thought M was full of it, since he promptly asked Monkey what Madeline said to the tiger in the zoo. And, sure enough - she said poo poo! (the appropriate answer). This got a good laugh out of the author. I'm sure he gets sick of people telling him how much they loved his grandfather's books, even if they did provide him with the opportunity to write his own book - but this brought a big smile to his face.

So, Monkey got her first autograph. I'm just happy it is in a book, by an author, and not some hipster rockstar wannabe signing her chest with a sharpie.......... that can be her second autograph.

Made mama whoop for joy!

Eons ago we thought the potty training might have started, but that was...um....March, and now it is October. You know, seven months ago.

Since then we've been offering Monkey the potty, talking about using the potty, and reading a book about potty training a lot. Not every single day, but often. We never forced the issue because, well, she's a pig-headed stubborn child (like both her parents) and forcing the issue would only guarantee tantrums and a flat-out refusal to cooperate. And I'd like her to be potty trained before she goes to college.

Every single time I asked Monkey if she wanted to use the potty she'd say no. Not interested, thank you.

But last night? For the first time that I recall, she actually ASKED to use the potty. So, naked (since she was about to get into the bath), she sat on the potty. And by potty, I mean the actual toilet with a little insert to make sure she doesn't fall in. She refuses to sit on the (shudder) Elmo potty chair I bought for her...and that's fine with me. We use the insert and the rest of it is now a step stool, so it works.

Well, she didn't pee. But she did ask for toilet paper and to flush the toilet. Which is something she only gets to do if she USES the potty (i.e., pees or poops). So after a few minutes of nothing happening, I took her off the potty. And she asked to sit on the potty. So, naked she sat on the potty. And asked for toilet paper and to flush the toilet. Which....oh, you get the point. We repeated this behavior for another 25 minutes or so.

And then, just when I was thinking this might be a pointless exercise and she was yanking my chain for the fun of it.....she peed in the potty! I literally whooped for joy. Man, a few years back if you would have told me that watching my daughter pee all over everything (because she kind of peed ON the insert, instead of INTO the toilet) would make me this happy I would have told you to pound sand. Seriously - like who would actually think this is a big deal? Well, fast forward to our life and honestly - it really was awesome. And I really did whoop for joy.

And then? Because we strive to fulfill all stereotypes of first-time parents who think their child walks on water? We called BOTH sets of grandparents and had Monkey tell her story. Yup. Good times, good times.

Here's hoping she does it again before another 7 months go by...........

A rose by any other name....

We are not telling anyone what the possible names are for BabyGirlCarter#2. That way, no one can vote or veto or crinkle their nose with distaste or exclaim that they've selected that name for their putative child. By the time everyone meets her, the name will be a done deal and no longer a point of discussion.

But, for the purpose of this blog, let's pretend that we are considering a few names: Ima, Ura, Edna, and Apple. (and no, these aren't even CLOSE to what we're contemplating. quit trying to guess)

Last night over a nutritious dinner of peaches and (soy) hotdogs, Monkey and I were talking. I asked her what we should name her baby sister.

Me: Should we name your baby sister Ima?
Monkey: NO!!!!!!!!! Big frown.

Me: Eyes wide with surprise. Chuckle. Ok, should we name your baby sister Ura?
Monkey: NO!!!!!!!!!!!! Vigorous head shake and pursing of lips.

Me: Hmmm, ok. How about Edna?
Monkey: NO. Dayum, woman, what's with the awful names?

Me: Fine. How about Apple?
Monkey: Apple. APple. APPle. APPLe. APPLE! APPLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Folks, we have a winner. At least for ten seconds last night.

Weekend of Adventure

Saturday we tried to make it to Darien, CT to see close friends of ours and their three kids. We wanted Monkey to meet their twin daughters (not too different in age) and their son, and we were looking forward to just hanging out with friends.

Alas and alack, it was not meant to be. In the midst of the parking lot also known as the freeway south of Stanford, Monkey puked all over herself. At the first available turnoff we hit a CVS for some (more) wipes, paper towels, and a clean Hanes tshirt (you know, boys underwear). And home again, home again, jiggity jig we went.

Sunday was much more fun. M's company had its family picnic up in Tarrytown. Back in the car we went (and yes, I had washed the puke off the carseat) and boy was it worth it!

The company went all out, renting those inflatable obstacle courses you see at Church picnics or the carnivals that pass through town. Monkey jumped and jumped and jumped and jumped. And then jumped some more. She loved it.

Lunch and four tattoos later, we were all in the car, covered in cotton candy and happy as clams. I wish we could do that every weekend!

Breakfast of champions

Lately, Monkey's breakfast of choice is.....hotdog buns. Arnold's hotdog buns, to be precise.

Yesterday they were on the counter by the toaster. So Monkey could see them and reached up to pull the bag off the counter. She's a self-service sort of gal. I.e., she has inherited her mother's extraordinary level of patience. The hotdog buns weren't there this morning, and Monkey literally crumbled to the floor in tears, unable to express her dread and sorrow that the world was ending RIGHT THAT MINUTE due to the lack of hotdog buns.

M figured out she might be looking for hotdog buns, and asked if that was what she wanted. Yes, came her whispery little reply, choking back the sobs as relief coursed through her veins. After an admonition to "use her words" and ask for hotdog buns instead of losing her shit ("one, two!" because she wants to hold something in each hand) the beloved doughy oblongs were obtained and all was well.

I feel sort of guilty letting her eat hotdog buns and grapes for breakfast. But really, how is that different than toast (and grapes) or bagels (and grapes)? Or even wheaties? It's all carbs, right?

All I can say is, thank god for vitamins!

Milwaukee, or where the dinosaurs roam

We spent this past weekend with probably our closest friends in the world, in their lovely home (don't believe the hype about the "crapshack") in Milwaukee, WI.

We had a blast.

Their daughter, aka Bunny, is obsessed with dinosaurs. She's also 8 months older than Monkey and, um, freakishly smart. So watching the two of them interact was awesome. And gave us a preview of what life will be like with two ankle biters/insane toddlers in the apartment.

Bunny would flip about which particular (anklyosauraus, for example) dinosaur Monkey was not allowed to touch and which she "didn't want to share"....Monkey would shrug like, ok, damn woman, I can't say that word so you can have your dinosaur all to yourself. Relieved, Bunny would recant her toddler ways and offer the toy up for inspection. It was hilarious! And adorable. Thankfully, Bunny is good at sharing and Monkey was really more obsessed with the rubbery lizards than the actual dinosaurs, so it all worked out well. But for the first ten minutes of our visit I thought it might get ugly.

Also, at first they did the whole parallel play thing. But soon, they were having actual conversations. To wit:

Bunny: What 'cha got?
Monkey: Got my blanket.
Bunny: Oh, ok.

I know, it doesn't sound like two geniuses in the making, but trust me...it was cool. They had a conversation! Like two kids do! Like OMG BFF!!! Awesome, all around.

Watch your language!

We all know this is the way it works, but sometimes it still startles me to hear Monkey repeat things we've said.

Lately she's been getting lots of rides on Daddy's shoulders. It is a way for them to have fun, and quite honestly we often get places faster that way (always a bonus with an inquisitive toddler whose favorite things are rocks! and questions about "what's that?".....both of which delay delay delay any efforts to walk. Anywhere. At any speed. Sigh.)

Since there always seems to be scaffolding up, often Monkey will be on Daddy's shoulders as we go underneath. At which point in time M will say "watch your head!" to tell her to duck.

I didn't think anything of it, until this morning on the way to school. I was pushing Monkey in her stroller, and just as we walked under some scaffolding she piped up and said "watch your head!" I started laughing. I mean, the scaffolding is at least 10 feet up above us....but still, got to watch your head!

Which is my reminder to myself....watch my language! So when that cabbie runs a red light and swerves at us (oh yes, that ALSO happened this morning and boy was I pissed) I need to not cuss. Eek.

Baseball Mania

Monkey is a baseball fan. It's official. And she is SO her daddy's daughter, it is amazing.

Saturday we drove down to Philadelphia and took in a Phillies Brewers game. Yes, M is a devout Brewers fan, what can I say (except go Yankees!). We met one of Matt's good friends and his wife and 10 year old son at the game. They live in Baltimore, so we both split the difference and met in the middle.

Monkey not only enjoyed herself, but we made it through 9 innings with her! She adores the Phillie's mascot, the Phanatic, asking where the "monster" was and laughing with delight when they showed the mascot on the big screen.

There was even a cool kids playground with slides and playground equipment. We would have stayed longer but they had to close it down after some kid puked down the circular slide. Eeeuw.

We sent Monkey to school this morning wearing her Phillie's "tattoo" (of the mascot, of course) and she was showing it off to her teacher when I left.

Now, if I could only talk M into getting Yankee's season tickets......

September 12th - Go Obama!

On September 12th, when we all go back to our daily lives and the rhetoric about patriotism, sacrifice, hope, faith, and service recede into the din of our every day lives, it might be good to look forward to the presidential election and think about who we want to elect as our leader.

I'm rather traditional in my manner (married, 1.6 kids, stable and loving family, insistence on grammer and manners, and only two tattoos in places you can't see without my permission and a lot of beer). But I'm very liberal. Not because I think that family values don't count, or that abortion is a good thing, and yes I even own guns (they're in my dad's gun safe, relax....), but because I don't trust that the Republican party will ever stand up for anyone other than themselves. It's too selfish. Too close minded. Too.....mean. Too concerned with their bottom line and not making sure the kids next door (or rather, next town over) have adequate health care, education, food, water, hell - have a chance to believe in themselves.

And don't even get me started about a woman who is willing to step into the spotlight and ensure her pregnant teenage daughter is on the cover of the Enquirer and endlessly discussed as an example of why abstinence only sex-"education" just doesn't work very well. (and yes, those quotation marks were on purpose. it isn't an education if it doesn't teach)

So here, read another mom's blog with her friends op-ed piece included in it. She's a better wordsmith than me: http://othejoys.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-come-from-family-of-heroes.html

9-11

Never again. That's my hope, my wish, my dream for Monkey and babygirlCarter#2. I don't want them to ever experience a 9-11.

She's his, all right

So occasionally I blog about how Monkey is like me. You know, likes being the center of attention, social, loves books, yadda yadda.

Well last night? She was daddy's little girl.

At one point she started asking (ok, whining) that she wanted to watch something on TV. M and I couldn't figure it out at first............but she wanted to watch baseball! My beloved Yankees weren't on, so we watched the Mets. And Monkey was seriously into it.

Then, M offered Monkey some edamame.......and she loved it. So much that M had to share the rest of his dinner with her! The two of them were eating edamame as fast as he could get the soybeans shucked. Soon, it'll be an edamame throwdown...you know, see who can eat more. Not that he would (*cough cough*) actually do that.

Two new (FUN) games in the Insane Household

So Monkey has two new games. She'd like to explain them to you....

1) Sneak up behind Ollie, our beloved geriatric (and, um, maybe not smart) cat and flick the hair on the top of her ears. Watch her ears twitch. Scream with delight. Repeat 300 times and act offended/traumatized when Ollie tries to bite you.

2) March up to mommy and yank up her shirt (preferably while in public). Attempt to push her distended belly button back into her stomach. Scream with delight. Repeat 300x. Act offended/traumatized when Mommy insists you desist.

What fun games do your insane toddlers like to play?

Repeat 300x

In case you were wondering what our weekends are like, imagine this conversation 300times an hour. All. Day. Long.

Monkey: Ready?
Mommy and/or Daddy: Sure. Ready for what?
Monkey: PLAYGROUND!

Sometimes this even starts before we lift her out of her crib in the morning, as she is scrubbing sleep from her eyes and pushing her hair back from her face.

Vignettes from our life

While at the New York Aquarium we saw a baby walrus. And it was HUGE. Yup, even bigger than little ole preggo-me. snort. Seriously - that thing was an adorable mass of blubber. Monkey, however, ignored the walrus in favor of the coin-swirling thing-a-ma-bobber...you know, you put the coin in at the top, it rolls around and around the cone, and you donate that coin to the aquarium. Of COURSE that's what she loved. Monkey headed straight for it and started begging for quarters.

So, we did what any reasonable parent would do. We told her to ask GrandDad.

**

Our fridge died last Friday night. As in hopelessly unable to keep anything cool, food in ruin and rotting. After a scramble and a superintendant who annoyed me (yet still saved the day) we ended up with a second fridge in our apartment - because the door to the kitchen is too narrow unless you remove the door from its hinges, which have been painted over with, I'm guessing, 15-20 coats of paint. I feel like Sanford & Sons....we have a fridge in our kitchen, empty save for a few crumbs, and a fridge in our dining room, full of our food. And, since the old fridge decided that after 3 days it would partially freeze water for ice cubes, the super decided to call a repair tech to try and fix it. No end in sight folks, no end in sight.

Maybe I can get a beat up old dishwasher in our dining room, too. You know, to work with our junk-shop decor. Sigh.

**

I made dinner with what hadn't spoiled the other night. And, since the frozen fish had thawed, I made orange roughy for dinner! Monkey declined to eat any of it, until Daddy pointed out that Mumble (aka Happy Feet) ate fish! Lo and behold.....she ate all of it.

M is a miracle worker.

Bittersweet

Last week (the "staycation") went by in a flash. Poof - gone.

And today, I dropped Monkey off at her first day of school (year #2!). She ran into the room without a second glance. I didn't even warrant a "bye" until I prompted her (loudly). I was so proud of her, watching her work the room as she greeted her friends.

As I rode the bus to work, I realized that this past week was the last time I would ever get to do something like that with my baby. That week, those precious few days, they were our last - ever - mommy & monkey time. Yes, we'll have weekends and things like Thanksgiving break, but still - that was the last uninterrupted week where it was just the two of us. Ever.

Because the next time we spend a week like that, I'll be caring for her little sister. And I know that I will love this second daughter with a fierceness that is unrivaled by anything except for my love of Monkey. My firstborn. My baby that has grown up so fast. It isn't that I am regretful or mournful that I'm pregnant with number two - the exact opposite. Her gentle kicks and nudges (and occasional wallops to the bladder) make me smile. I can't wait to meet her.

But today, today I realized that soon everything will change. Somehow I wish that Monkey would remember this time, this special mommy&me time. But I know that when she looks back at her childhood, at her earliest memories, they will likely revolve around her little sister. And that's a good thing.

The Adventures of Monkey and Mommy

Well, the staycation is going swimmingly.

This past weekend we: went to Coney Island and got sandy, Monkey fell/got dunked in the surf, we ate cheese fries at the original Nathan's hotdog stand, saw a baby walrus at the Aquarium, and our car didn't start on fire...it only smoked a bit. Um, yeah. So after a full day in the scorching sun (since even the Aquarium is outside), we stood in the parking lot with an insanely tired little girl and turned the motor on to try and figure out why the engine was smoking. And then drove home because no one (and by that I mean M and Grand Dad, Nana and I stood there impatiently shifting from foot to foot) could quite figure it out. We got home safe. And Monkey LOVES the ocean.

And that was only on Sunday!

On Tuesday I called in an emergency sitter to watch Monkey and drove the car out to Flatbush, Brooklyn to our mechanic. The highlight of that experience was the two guys (family members, I'd guess uncle/nephew) there who bantered exactly like the brothers in the Ocean's 11 (12 & 13) movies. As M put it, at first he thought they were in on the joke, but then he realized that they actually DID act that way towards each other! Odd, but funny.

Today we went to the zoo with Monkey's friends Daniel and Caleb. At one point the three of them were walking hand in hand. I about died from the cuteness of it all!

Tomorrow we go meet Monkey's teachers at her Montessori daycare (she's in the Purple room!) and then will play until it is time to have lunch with godmom Heather.

I need to keep a calendar open to make sure we do everything we said we'd do! This staycation is busy work, I tell you!

Nobody puts Baby in the corner

So, ever since we learned the gender of offspring #2, we've been debating names. M has a preppy name, I kept veering towards more classical names.

Occasionally we'll ask Monkey what we should name her little sister. And last night? For the first time? She had an answer!

Baby.

Now, can somebody puhleeeeze get the stupid song from Dirty Dancing out of my head???????

Staycation

Right now I am on my 3rd hour of staycation. That's right people, I'm on vacation in my very own kitchen. With my feet up. Ignoring my husband and father-in-law who are either watching sports or a sports movie on cable. Drinking a beer...yum. Well, as yum as you get when it's a n/a beer. Sigh. All I have to say is someday, babygirlcarter#2 is going to get an earfull about how she better live up to her potential, dammit, because if I wanted her to be a slacker I'd have drank REAL beer while knocked up.

I'm on vacation (ahem, staycation) until Monday, September 8th. For something like the third or fourth time in my entire life I'm taking a whole week off. And since the Montessori daycare is closed yet another week (argh, stupid freaking closings!) I will be 100% in charge of the Monkey.

We have a grand week planned:
*Monday, possible brunch with a girlfriend (mine, not hers).
*Tuesday we're going to the Bronx Zoo with Hudson and his moms (Hudson is one of her pals from school).
*Wednesday is a free day....to be determined.
*Thursday we get to go to school and meet her new teachers!
*Friday I'm parking the kid with a sitter and getting my hair cut. What? You thought the entire week was going to be just me and the Monkey? Dude, I haven't gotten my hair cut in 4 months. I know I'm pregnant and all, but there's letting yourself go and then there's letting yourself go. But if you want to think better of me, it's scheduled during nap time. So she'll miss me less.

Ice Cream

So does anyone know how to get a photo off of your phone and into email/a computer/this blog?

Because I just got the cutest snapshot of Monkey snarfing ice cream on my phone!

She went to the Aquarium (out by Coney Island - quite an adventure) with Daddy and GrandDad today.

And, apparently, GrandDad FINALLY got his wish. He got to eat ice cream with Monkey.

I wish she felt better about her self image

M is on a "staycation" right now. He took time off from work (finally!!) to relax, and run a bunch of errands (like getting the car fixed waaaaaay out in Brooklyn, etc.).

So, last night when Monkey and I came in the door, he was already 75% done with making dinner. Needless to say, I was thrilled. Ususally I come in the door at seven with a very hungry kid and try to get her fed while simultaneously preparing a dinner for me and Matt. So coming home to a home cooked meal is a treat for me!

I told M he was a rock star.

And Monkey, never one to shy from the limelight, immediately piped up to say...."Monkey's a rock star!"

I know, can you believe it? She's such a shrinking violet, that one! Wonder where she gets it.....

Random things

Did I ever mention that Monkey got to watch two Vietnamese PotBelly pigs being walked (on leashes!) in DUMBO a few weeks back? When we went to have brunch with Carey & Jody, a couple we love to hang out with (esp. since they are super tolerant of Monkey, for whatever reason...thanks mom, keep sending those checks their way!). How strange/cool is that? And that the minute we walked over to check them out, the pigs started pooping on the sidewalk? How nasty/gross is that? Um, yeah. And right before breakfast.

I may have mentioned that we had an early birthday party for Monkey and her cousin Emma back in Minneapolis, and that her Auntie Lauri and Uncle Jason gave her a set of Nemo sheets for her big girl bed? Did I mention that? Super cool present: Monkey lurves these sheets. She sleeps with the pillow case each night. No pillow....just the case. Well, Granddad Carter comes to town tonight to spend a few nights with us. And, since we got rid of the guest bed to turn what was the guestroom/closet/office/storage space into Monkey's "Big Girl Room" the only bed in there is a twin. With the Nemo sheets on it. Which Granddad now gets to sleep on. How cute is that?

And, while we are talking about rearranging the apartment for BabyGirlCarter#2, can I just mention that I keep having nightmares about where to keep the freakin' vacuum cleaner? I know, talk about pregnancy hormones and anal-tendencies run amok! But seriously, both Monkey and Ollie are afraid of the vacuum cleaner. So I don't want to leave it just sitting out (plus admit it, unless it's a perfectly clean Dyson on display at MOMA, vacuum cleaners are ugly). But it will have to move from what is presently the "closet" in what is to become Monkey's Big Girl Room. And I use those quotation marks without a sense of irony: this f'ing closet is only 7.5 inches deep. So it's useful for holding the vacuum cleaner, the broom, wrapping paper, and random things like a soccor ball and Ollie's pet carrier. We'll figure out a way to use it for Monkey's clothing (since I know Nana is not going to stop buying pretty dresses for her beloved insane toddler!). But still............the vacuum cleaner. It haunts me! Argh.

Elixir

Daddy continues to be the magical elixir for Monkey. He is clearly her preferred parental unit (does that phrase date me, or what?) at this moment in time.

This morning Monkey woke up as she usually does, calling for us and happy as can be. I don't know what we did in a prior life to get a kid that wakes up this happy, but I am certainly grateful for it!

After breakfast (of waffles! ever since 'Andpa made waffles that is a go-to food for Monkey) we started the clothing wrangle. And, unfortunately for me, Monkey decided to ask to watch Monsters, the Pixar film she adores.

I said no (I'm SUCH an ogre) and explained that we don't watch TV in the morning. Well, at least not during the school week. But Monkey wasn't having it.

She keened and moaned, cried and hurled herself to the ground, sobbed and shivered with sadness, and generally made herself miserable throwing a tantrum to let me know (in case I hadn't noticed) she wanted to watch Monsters. Forthwith.

And, mid-sob, she would ask for Daddy. Sob, "daddy," sniffle, "daddy," wail, "daddy" etc....

And, lo and behold, when he walked into the room she practically vaulted into his arms and clung onto his neck and shoulders, shuddering with relief that he was there. And, then, all was well. She smiled again.

She is definitely an insane toddler. But she loves her daddy so much, it's hard to hold it against her.

The skies opened up and angels sang....

Daddy is back from London. And all is well in Monkey's world now.

Last night, she was tired and acting out at dinner. She scrounged around and found a tin of animal crackers, and then completely lost her sh*t when we only let her eat two of them.

Not only did she throw a fit that involved throwing herself to the floor behind the kitchen table (we were in the dining room, but I peeked in to see what she was up to...that is, despite wailing), but she so completely lost it she forgot to eat the second cookie. Talk about cutting off your nose to spite your face!

M was exhausted from getting up at 5:30am London time (that's like he woke at 12:30am our time...yikes) and flying home, so I gave Monkey a bath. Well, I tried....

Usually a bath calms Monkey down and makes her the happiest kid on the planet. But last night she was just not having it. I could barely get her to sit down, and washing her hair prompted wailing that deafened me.

And then, she started begging for Daddy. With her eyes red and swollen from crying, her face all blotchy from screaming, and her lip all a-tremble. So I called in reinforcements.

M walked into the bathroom and asked Monkey if she wanted Daddy to give her a bath.

And then, I swear to god, the skies opened up and angels sang....she was SO HAPPY!

All is well, Daddy is back.

It ain't pepto pink, dammit

So we are in the throes of redecorating the bedroom in our apartment that has served for the past three years as the: office, guest room, coat closet, broom closet, and media storage center.

Now it will be....dun, dun dun.....the BIG GIRL'S ROOM! I.e., Monkey is being evicted from the nursery and moved into the new room.

Babygirlcarter#2 will reuse the nursery as is. No need to buy new furniture or bedding. Phew! One less thing to obsess and be anal about. Not that the pregnancy hormones have made me MORE prone to that sort of thing. Nope, not at all. No sireee! Now don't mind me while I obsess about the quilt for Monkey's new bed. Because that's important, dammit! (also, where the hell am I going to put the vacuum cleaner? that one keeps me UP AT NIGHT PEOPLE!!!)

We've acquired an antique dresser with glass knobs and an antique style bed for the Big Girl Room. And last night, Monkey's godmom Heather came over to help me paint the room. Let me just say again, for the record, that she is a goddess for helping me paint. And making me laugh by leaning into the wall and getting paint all over her hair. Seriously.

M is in London so it's a perfect time to do this sort of work. (Why is it perfect? Because I love doing this sort of thing and am good at it. While Matt hates it and would rather chew off his arm than live with boxes and chaos. Really - he does. One time when we moved I sent him to CT to spend the night so I could pack without him!)

And, because Monkey's my little girl and deserves the best, and M has this adorable vision of what her room should look like, I picked out a lovely rose shade of paint. (the bed is an antique blue and the dresser is light blue/lavendar, depending upon the light)

And all I have to say is? Thank G*D it ain't pepto pink. See???

I feel the need, the need for speed....

Monkey wipes out a fair amount on the playground. Not because she is a klutz, but because she is a daredevil. She outruns kids twice her age....and has a seemingly endless reservoir of energy to hurtle from one side of the playground to the other. Even after a full day of school! (and did you know that it is virtually impossible to catch a screaming, energetic, running toddler while in heels or any shoe other than sneakers? all my "pretty" shoes are lonely....)

When she is on a set of steps, she'll yell "jump" and fling herself off into space. When you push her on the swing she alternates between "faster!" and "higher!" When we run on the sidewalk (as she holds my hand, under the new regime) she exhorts you to go "faster faster higher" as if the two words are interchangeable. She feels the need, the need for speed.

And, under the law of averages, she wipes out a lot. Again, not because she is a klutz, but because she runs and jumps and kamikazes so many times that eventually, one of her efforts to land that dismount is going to go astray.

Last night was one such night. She clambered on top of a cement toad with a sprinkler on its back....and rolled off. Hitting all the cement bumps of the toad's back, sides, and legs before hitting the ground and rolling into a puddle of standing water and sand.

I ran to get her, to comfort her and assess the damage. And, while she was littered with small cuts, scrapes, and swollen bruises (those nice little white welts you get on your skin before the real purple bruise shows...), with blood dribbling down her neck from a cut on her chin, and liberally covered in wet, filthy sand, she was OK! One minute later she was laughing again, running across the playground and having a grand old time.

Four hours later I was in the bathtub, cleaning off the grime from the day, including a layer of sand that had gotten inside my dress and my bra (shudder) and clung to my skin all night long. Ew.

Random collection of vignettes from the weekend

1) Monkey has outgrown her allergy to milk! Huzzah!!!!! All the cheese and icecream she can eat! Oh wait, I forgot that when you eat too much mozzarella cheese you get constipated......sorry kid! Guess you overdosed...

2) After consistently teaching Monkey that food and drink stay in the kitchen or at the dining room table, I was totally chastised by my kid for wandering into the living room with lemonade in hand to watch the interview with Michael Phelps. Busted!

3) M is traveling for work and in London this week. So Monkey and I dined alone last night. Half way through the meal she asked me to give her a kiss. Then, looking around, she asked "daddy kisses?"........awwwwww. No wonder he's wrapped around her finger.

Summer time and the living is easy

Big Sistah, can't resist her....

Red beans and rice....oh never mind, I was channeling "Baby got back" for a minute there....

Monkey picked out her outfit for school today: leggings and the "Big Sister, aka Divine Ruler" tshirt that Uncle N and Aunt G (and HP!) gave her for her birthday. Thanks guys!

The tshirt is white (for now) with pink and red lettering. Combined with green leggings, white sandals, and pink/red/white ribbons on her ponytails, Monkey looked super cute this morning! Just ask the construction worker that whistled at her! (kidding. he just said "mornin' little one" and no I don't think he's a pedophile).

Then, to add onto the preciousness of it all, she insisted on bringing her "I'm a big sister" book with us on the bus, and we read it on the way to school. Not a bad commute if I say so myself! (finally)

Think she'll be that adorable and excited when her little sister ACTUALLY arrives? Really? You do???? Oh thank goodness and THANK YOU for fueling my delusions! You rock.

The great commute experiment

So my experiment with getting Monkey to school without the stroller continues.

This is all preparation for when:
1) I'm too fat (ok fine, pregnant) to waddle 1.76 miles (thank you, www.mapmyrun.com - now I know precisely how far I walk!)
2) It is raining, and walking isn't an option
3) I'm back in the grind post-birth by hacksaw (i.e., c-section) and trying to get TWO kids to school....

And again, I have to say that Monkey was EXCEPTIONAL! She walked, without fussing or complaints, happily holding my hand. She was cheerful and cooperative.

The bus, however, has NOT been cooperative.

My week thus far:

On Tuesday I waited a total of 60 minutes for my bus to arrive. 35 minutes in the morning, and 25 at night. With an insane toddler, bored out of her skull, a few feet away from a busy Manhattan street. Nice.

On Wednesday I got on our bus to head home and, well, I had made the mistake of trying to use the stroller. So I got on the bus with a stroller, my lunch bag, Monkey's lunch bag, Monkey's bag of clothing to come home from school, my purse, my insane toddler, AND my 5 months pregnant bump and lack of balance. And fell on my arse when the bus lurched. It was so pathetic that a little old lady gave me HER seat. Now that's embarrasing, when a 80 year old is in better shape than you. And I'm on the maximum dosage of tylenol today, because I wrenched the muscles in my groin, up around my side and into my back. Nice.

Today? No real problems, per se. Just Monkey decided to get into my purse and before I could say boo had dropped my makeup on the floor. I'm down one set of eye drops, one tube of lipbalm, and one tube of MAC lipstick (Del Rio, best shade on earth). Dammit!

I have bad bus karma. I just do. Wonder what I did in a prior life?

Houdini, indeed

So after much thought and hand-wringing, we went ahead and bought a wrist leash for Monkey, to try and keep her safe on the sidewalks.

Today was my trial run with it. Monkey and I were to walk, sans stroller (first time ever) to the bus and take the bus to school.

Monkey was awesome. She held my hand, or held onto the pole for the bus stop sign, without throwing mega tantrums.

The leash, however? Totally f*cking useless. Monkey had it stripped off her hand in less time than it took to put it on.

Harry Houdini would be proud

Occasionally (like, um, every time Monkey has a birthday) my wonderful brother and even more wonderful sister in law send us interesting presents.

And yes, I give them shit about this in person, so I can write about it here.

Last year? Last year was a xylophone. My ears still ring, but MAN does Monkey love that thing. My neighbors hate it. When N & G sent that present last year I called them up to yell at them for sending such a noisy (fun!) toy. For revenge I threatened to send them drums when their little one, HP, turned one. That made my brother laugh....since she already had a set of bongo drums! Can you tell who lives in a house in the wide open spaces of Colorado, and who has neighbors on all sides??

This year, they sent a variety of cool stuff, but I'd like to highlight two things.

The first is the tambourine. This isn't some crummy kids tambourine, that Monkey will destroy in a few short months. Oh no! Uncle N went to a professional store and bought a REAL tambourine. Damn it, Monkey will be able to use this thing until she turns 90. (My neighbors still hate me.)

The second thing I'd like to highlight is a neat puzzle board by the Melissa & Doug toy brand. This thing has a variety of doors, fixed with a variety of latches and locks, and you need to unfasten the latch/lock to see what animal is hiding behind the door. Monkey loves it. We have named it the Harry Houdini guide to defeating baby proofing and escaping the apartment. Need I say more?

Statistics

• Number of attendees at Monkey's birthday party yesterday morning: 17 (including the guest of honor and her parents)
• Number of screaming banshee toddlers in attendance: 6
• Number of cupcakes baked & decorated: 24
• Number of cupcakes lost in the sprinkler: 1
• Number of cupcakes dumped on the ground: 3
• Number of cupcakes Monkey personally consumed in lieu of a real lunch: 2
• Number of toddlers that were stripped down to just their diapers in the sprinkler by the end of the party: 2
• Number of possibly inappropriate books/toys received: 3
• Number of toddlers that attempted to (cough* steal* cough!) leave the party with Monkey's new tambourine: 3
• Number of photos I took: L*ord only knows, but my camera was groaning by the time I was done with it...
• Amount of fun that was had? Unmeasurable.

On the bus

Monkey is definitely over this virus, as she is back to her normal high jinks.

Last night we went to one of our favorite sushi restaurants on the UWS. There are other, fancier places that get higher Zagats and Chowhound ratings, but this one is always in the #2 spot so the sushi rocks - but really, we go there because the waitstaff is just so cool with Monkey. Even the sushi chefs took time to tell her what they were doing.

To get home, we take the M11 bus up Amsterdam, which works well - when it shows up. Maybe 4 or 5 M7 buses passed by our stop before the first M11 showed. Annoying.

So the bus arrives, and it is already well past Monkey's bedtime. She squirmed and chattered the whole way home - and was generally in a pretty good mood despite the late hour.

We sat in the handicapped/elderly seats because of Monkey and the stroller. Oh and me being 5 months pregnant. But about two stops before our stop, an elderly gentleman got on the bus. M immediately got up and offered him the seat. The gentleman smiled graciously, nodded his head and when he sat down, said thanks to Monkey.

I told Monkey in a sotto voice that we always give up our seat to grandpas and grandmas, since they needed the seat more than us.

When we got up to leave the bus, Monkey blurted out "BYE GRANDPA!" to this elderly gentleman. Earning not only the biggest smile I've ever seen on a stranger's face, but also - the entire bus started to laugh! (and that is a tough, tough crowd).

I'm guessing she made that guy's night.

Oh, she made my day!

So Monkey is having a rough week. Fever since Monday, sent home from school tuesday, and yesterday she puked and had some seriously nasty diarrhea. (Grossest yet I've seen in two years, and let me tell you I've seen a lot. Phew)

Yet, through it all, she's been in a remarkably good mood. Seriously! If you didn't touch her head or the skin on her back and then wince from the searing heat, most of the time you wouldn't know she's sick!

Today I took her to the doctor to just make sure it was a virus, and that it wasn't anything worse. And it's a virus. But, while we were there we managed to squeeze in her 24 month wellness checkup, which means we don't have to go back next Monday! Part of the checkup is testing for lead, and the nurse couldn't find her artery/vein, and kept digging around with the needle under her skin. Monkey did break out in tears, but only after after 3 attempts with the needle...many adults would have whimpered after just one! I was very proud of her.

And, once she got a Nemo sticker, her tears dried up completely and she started smiling and laughing again. Oh - I almost forgot to mention that she didn't cry, wince, shudder or try to climb up my body when the doctor used the stethoscope on her - a serious first! She just watched it and tried to touch it! I was thrilled - that play stethoscope we have at home was totally worth the $12 I spent on it. One less toddler phobia to deal with - huzzah!

And, as if this exemplary behavior wasn't enough to make my heart swell with pride and joy, when we went to the drug store to get tylenol, do you know what Monkey said?

She said "I like babies." And I melted. Right then and there - they had to scrape me and my bump off the floor with a spatula.

A mom with a toddler and a baby in a doublestroller moved past us in Duane Reed and when I pointed out the baby to Monkey that's when she said it! Unprompted! I didn't even know she knew how to say "I like" anything!

I just love that kid.

The things she says these days...

Monkey: Open this?
Daddy: No sweetie, daddy's head doesn't open up.
Monkey: Open this?
Daddy: No, his neck doesn't open, either.

Monkey: I'm going to be a naked girl (as she got into the bath)

Monkey: Ollie play ring around the rosie? (as she knelt on the ground and crouched to put her face next to Ollie's face)
Ollie: No answer, but she did touch her nose to Monkey's nose.

Bookworm

Monkey's new routine when we walk to and from school? Why, reading books!

Yeah, she is a bookworm like me!

Only problem? She likes the books to be read outloud...and she still can't read. (I know, I know, do you think I should be worried? ha)

So her solution? Why having ME read her books. As I push her stroller. You know, through the streets of New York.

It's not just me

This thing with my absolutely fearless child running away from me on the sidewalks of New York really worries me.

On top of the normal "I don't want her to die" fears and anxieties, there was this small, niggling little fear that maybe it was just me.

That maybe she was acting out against me because I'm pregnant, or because I'm not doing an effective job of monitoring her, or you know, that I was just failing as a mom.

And yes, these are the worries that creep into my brain and keep it busy at night when I can't sleep because: A) it is too freakin' hot out; 2) my geriatric cat likes to paw my face and nuzzle my eyes for attention at 1,2,3,4 and 5am; and finally)because at 19 weeks pregnant my bump has started to interfere with my sleep. And yes, I realize that my 3am fears tend to be a (ahem) wee bit melodramatic. Give me a break, it's 3am! (btw I can see your eyelids twitching, dear readers who notice lapses in grammer and punctuation. I did that A 1 finally thing just for you. You're welcome)

Therefore, I confess that I felt a little bit better last night when I picked my insane toddler up from her Montessori school and they told me that Monkey was running away from them, too! And had received a stern lecture about not running away! They even let the entire class walk into the park without her, to emphasize the point that if she didn't hold either the rope or a teacher's hand, she could not go to the park. For an almost-two year old, that's hardcore.

Monkey's sidewalk privileges have been revoked until further notice. And it's going down on her permanent record.

Thud (that's the sound of me, the scornful mighty, hitting the earth)

Years ago I saw a frazzled parent following their child through a crowded amusement park, holding onto that child's leash. You know, the kind attached to a harness that wraps around the little one's torso and makes it look like you've highjacked a terrier's doggie leash for the day.

I thought that putting your child on a leash was at best, hilarious, and at worst, abusive.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

Last night, I took Monkey outside our apartment building for one last gasp of fun - drawing on the sidewalk with chalk. It was hot outside, but hotter in the apartment, so out we went to get chalky and dusty and giggle a bit before bathtime and bed.

And, becase I'm now at 19 weeks, I'm a little thick (ahem! ok, friggin' big already) and therefore slow to get off the ground.

Monkey was standing next to me as I drew on the ground. And as a family walked past, she decided it would be a fine time to take off running. While laughing. As I struggled to catch up (she's FAST) and hollered STOP at the top of my lungs.

See, she was running towards a street that should be quiet - but cars whiz down it, and they are coming around a curve and likely wouldn't see a small toddler darting out in the twilight.

I thought I was going to watch my daughter get hit by a car, that she could die in front of me, if I didn't catch her in time.

My heart was pounding from the anxiety when I caught up with her, and let me tell you, we went straight upstairs for a 5 minute timeout. Longest one she's had in her life.

She's fearless and testing her boundaries. I'm fearful and thinking about making her wear a wrist tether when we're walking outside.

Seems I just got a refresher course on judging others.

We're in for a bumpy ride

Monkey continues to amaze and confound me.

On the one hand, she has continued her streak of peacefully going to bed without a peep. Literally, says "I love you" and then boom - out like a light. (and can I tell you? when she says "I love you" umprompted, I melt. Good thing she doesn't know to ask for a pony right then...)

On the other hand, she loses her sh*t when her vision of the world is marred by reality.

You know, like when I cut the peach instead of giving it to her whole. The horror of it all!!

"no cut, no cut, no cut arrrghhh!! gnash teeth, wail wail sob sob shudder"

Um, ok, here's the part that isn't cut.

But no, the peach is ruined.

I think being a toddler is hard work. And that we're in for a bumpy ride. Good thing she's so damn wonderful the other 90% of the time. You know, so she can see the ripe old age of three. Just sayin'.

Bonding time

Last night M was a rock star - and by that I mean he gave me the Yankees tickets he got from work and stayed home with Monkey while I went to the fun (but embarrasing - we left when it was Orioles 11, Yankees 0....and I'm afraid to see what the final score was!) game with my friend and fellow Yankees fan Jeremy.

Jeremy and I had a blast. We were up in the deck with a great view, the sun was shining but the wind was pleasantly blowing so we weren't hot, and the drunks around us were entertaining, rather than obnoxious. All in all, a good outing.

Meanwhile, back on the home front, M fed Monkey, took her on an outing for gelato (she spurned lemon but LOVED pineapple), gave her a bath and put her to bed.

And, apparently the streak of going to bed with grace and humor continued! Last night Monkey got into bed (well, her crib), and when M asked her if she wanted to lay down so that he could put her blankie over her she said "yes" and that was that! Lights out, no fuss, no muss, one soundly sleeping child. Wow.

Of course, I was eager to wake Monkey up this morning. She is so incredibly sweet in the mornings, she almost gives me a toothache. Seriously, this kid wakes up smiling! (wish that I could! harrumph). And, since last night was all about daddy, he's the first thing she asked for.

M came through the door, I moved aside, and the look of love and adoration on Monkey's face when she smiled up at her daddy made my day. That tinkling sound? That was the sound of my heart shattering like brittle glass and raining down on the ground.

And the best part is? When BGC#2 arrives, when I'm focused on nursing her and tending to her newborn needs? Monkey will turn to daddy and find everything in the world she needs right there. This is going to be a time of incredible bonding for them. And it makes me happy.