How to Grow (and Raise) an Alien...or Two

So Arden just had her first day of preschool. They started a special class for the kids who were too young to start in the fall, but turned 3 before the end of the year. She walked right in and never looked back. I had to get her attention just to say "goodbye". Now I know that there are a lot of parents out there who would dream of being able to drop their kids off without tears, but I'm starting to wonder what I've done to my child. What makes it okay to drop her off somewhere she's never been before with people she's never met before? Does she want to get away from me that badly? Trust, me...I'm glad there's no struggle, but there's a little part of me that wouldn't mind a tear or two.

Before we moved into our new house, we rented a terrible, old, nasty house in town. Right behind us lived the directors of the Montessori school in town. I showed an interest in sending Arden...they told me that after watching Arden from their kitchen window that they weren't quite ready for her yet. How funny is that?

Every day when Ainsley gets off of the bus, she has treats for Greta. Apparantly, the bus driver has a thing for dogs...

WHAT IS THE OBSESSION WITH PUBLIC RESTROOMS????????

I will begin this post stating that I just bought Ainsley a sweet little pair of not-exactly-cheap blue leather loafers. Since she is currently in a size 8, I bought them in a 9 so she can grow into them. When I brought them home, she fell in love with them and asked if she could wear them around the house. I saw no problem with this and was actually happy that she liked them so much.

Yesterday morning started way too early. Around 12:15am, Ainsley woke up crying for me. I went into her room and she sleepily told me that she peed the bed. She had never done this before even though we're only a few weeks into true potty training. She's stayed dry at night for months. I wasn't too worried, though, because I knew she wasn't feeling too well. She had been talking in her sleep since I tucked her in around 10:00. I stripped the bed and changed her pajamas. I gave her some Tylenol because she had an obvious fever and I went back to bed. She continued having a restless night and kept talking in her sleep. To comfort her, I went in her room and laid in her bed with her. She fell right asleep, but I did not. When my husband left for work, I realized that I hadn't slept at all, but that's okay. That's what mommies do when their kids are sick.

Now, I was prepared for a good poopy diaper from Arden as she hadn't pooped in two days. This has happened before and I knew what to expect. I had Arden in her rocking chair in the kitchen. I left the kitchen for a minute, came back and smelled it right away. As I picked her up, Ainsley informed me that she had to pee. Ainsley is doing a great job peeing on the potty (we're still working on pooping on the potty...poop seems to come on a little quicker for her and she doesn't always have time to make it to the potty). I told Ainsley to go ahead and go to the potty and I would change Arden. I took Arden in her room and laid her in her crib (never got a changing table...never felt the need). As I quickly pulled Arden's pajama pants off, the poop that had leaked out of the sides of her diaper smeared down her legs and actually managed to work it's way in between her toes. I did not panic. I actually laughed to myself thinking of what my husband would have done in this situation. As I started methodically wiping off my youngest daughter, my firstborn started crying rather hysterically from the bathroom. I got Arden to a point where she couldn't make the mess any worse and I went to check on Ainsley. There she stood, in the middle of the bathroom, with her panties around her ankles, in a puddle of pee. This has happened before. Ainsley gets sidetracked, not realizing how badly she really needs to go and she doesn't quite make it onto the toilet. This hasn't upset me in the past...it's easy enough to clean up...at least it was in the bathroom and not on the new carpet. However, this time, Ainsley had been wearing her new shoes. I had to have her slip her feet out of her shoes so I could pour the pee into the toilet. How do you clean pee of off brand new leather shoes that have basically been soaked in it? I put Ainsley in the tub, cleaned the floor, wiped the shoes off with Clorox wipes (as least they're germ-free now) and I put them in the garage where they still sit. I don't know what to do with them.

On a normal day, this ploethera of bodily function madness would put some people over the edge, but try dealing with it on no sleep. I'm sure I'll laugh about it one day. That day has not yet come.

Ainsley is 3 going on 13. I yelled at her once for something in the kitchen. I really can't remember what it was about. My husband told me that he watched her stomp up the stairs, go straight to her room and shut the door. If she was 13, I would have thought "what a brat," but since she's only 3, the only thing I could do is laugh.

Last week, she came into my room and said "Mommy, I love you." I said, "Thank you, honey. That's very sweet. I love you, too."

She then paused and looked like she was in deep thought. Then she said, "I don't like Daddy. Daddy sucks."

I laughed, but only when she wasn't looking.

It's 2:20pm. I got my shower and had both girls bathed before noon! Ainsley is having quiet time in her room while she watches a movie (quiet time has now been substituted for a nap, although sometimes quiet time still turns into a nap). Arden is napping very nicely in her room. I will fold some laundry and drag the garbage to the curb and I'm free & clear until dinner. Thing is, I'd be willing to bet that "free & clear" turns into anything but. For now, though, the house is quiet and I'm going to sit very still for at least 5 minutes before I do anything that comes close to housework or children.

I even shaved my legs.

On some level, I always knew this, but I've recently come to the stark realization that I'm not anywhere close to being the perfect mother. If someone came to my front door at noon, I'd still be in my pajamas, unshowered. I may have had something to drink since I woke up, but nothing to eat. My 3-year-old daughter would be eating Easy Mac for the fourth day in a row (hey, it's what she asks for and I'm not complaining). I'd probably be carrying the baby around or feeding her. Having a baby attached to your breast for 20 minutes every 2 hours may not seem like a lot, but to the breastfeeding mother, it seems like the child is eating all the time.

I'm trying to get onto a schedule with the kids, but right now, I'm just feeling lucky if everything gets done and I get showered before my husband gets home. My goal lately has been to get a shower while it's still morning. I put Arden in her crib and turn on the mobile and run into the shower. It's not the most relaxing way of doing things, but at least it's getting done. What I'm trying to do is get to the point where when the girls are taking afternoon naps (at the same time, I hope and pray), I can sit and relax and do something just for me. I don't want to feel like I have to spend this time doing more laundry or unloading the dishwasher so I can get the pile of dirty dishes out of the sink.

Having two kids is a lot different than having one. Especially when one is mobile and can undo everything that I do in a day. I remember telling people that I always wanted 3 or 4 kids and I was struggling with my decision to not have any more since I was so sick this time. Physically, I know I really can't do it again. Emotionally, I really would love to go through the whole thing again...especially labor and having a brand new baby. But now, I'm going to kick my emotional side's butt and just be practical. Do I really want to go through the whole new baby thing again? I don't think so. And if I stick with 2, I can get rid of the minivan and trade it in for something a little more stylish.

I love my kids. Here's to not spreading the love too thin!

As miserable as I was one month ago, I am that happy right now. I'm not going to the miserable place called "work" every day; I am chubby, but not fat; my house is clean and in order; I can reach my feet to paint my toenails; I can see my feet; both of my beautiful girls are asleep at the same time; Arden let me sleep for 7 straight hours last night; I watch Shrek every day and I love it; it's 2:00pm and I'm still in my pajamas.

I figured that since I spent the last 9 months complaining, I should be fair and share the rejoicing now.

Life really is good.