It's Over

And like that they're gone.

Almost two full months passed.  Two months full of family activities and although exhausted, I couldn't even begin to imagine how worse off I would've been without their in-house Nanny help.  My inlaws helped me so much with my daily schedule, especially my mother inlaw with Mateo.

Here's an example of the big help I received that I'm now missing (sadface):

7:00 am - When Mateo would wake up crying, I could just focus on getting myself ready knowing my mother inlaw would be there to get Mateo ready, plus I could just let Diego keep sleeping because they watched him the entire day and cut my day care costs in half!
12:00pm - I'd go home for a lunch that was already made!
6:00 pm - I'd arrive home from work to an already cooked homemade dinner!
7:00 pm - Washing the dinner dishes?  What's that?
8:00 pm - Although not fully relieved of my baby duties, it was nice to have someone else share time keeping Mateo from crying entertained.

And now, with the flick of the wrist they're gone and all duties fall back on me - the only mom left in the house.  The first night back in the saddle went pretty well, I had prepped to make a Peruvian dish for dinner so all I had to do was toss the ingredients together in a pan when I got home from work.  It took me a total of 20 mins and in that time Mateo kept himself busy getting into kitchen cabinets.  When he started to get a little fussy, I gave him a piece of fruit to keep his hands and mouth busy.  After dinner, he started getting needy when he no longer wanted to crawl.  He insisted that I hold his hand as we walked around the house.  Mateo led me to my inlaws' "old" bedroom. The door was closed so that he would not be able to crawl in there and get into things.  He examined the door, touched it, played patty-cake with it, and tried reaching for the handle.

With his baby grunts and mumbles, he'd repeatedly point to the door. 

"I know, Tater."  

"I'll miss them too."

I really will - Shirley

I Whip My Hair Back and Forth

A post that I never got around to publishing...  But right now, in the throws of baby separation anxiety and a smidgen of toddler jealousy, I'm reminded via this post that this motherhood job is so worth it....

That first moment when both my boys kept laughing together in unison at the repeated punchline of my joke.

(And by "punchline" for a 2.5 y/o and 7 mos baby, what I really mean is whipping my hair back and forth like Willow Smith and making a crazy sound with each whip!)

Hearing their synchronized giggles made my everyday motherhood struggles suddenly more rewarding.

"Motherhood is the highest paid job because you're paid in love" (quote seen on Pinterest) - Shirley

Whipping my hair back and forth for the audience of 2

Olympic Redemption

I reached my Olympic moment yesterday (sorry - my house has Olympic fever right now - how about yours?).  Like an Olympic athlete, I have been working hard for years as a mother.  One of the gold medals I was vying for was in the sport of saying "mama" before "dada".  Like Lolo Jones, I was on track for the gold the first time around, but was eventually robbed by the glitz and glamour of Dada. So I kept up my regimen in hopes I'd fare better the second time around.

This is where Lolo's and my Olympic story diverges.  I pity Lolo's story and appreciate that mine turned out differently. 

Diego, Mateo, and I were sitting on the couch.  Diego was silently playing on his Kindle Fire when out of nowhere, Mateo said "Mama" clear as day.  I looked to 2 year old Diego for some kind of acknowledgment since he was my only witness.  The toothy smile that appeared on Diego's face in the seconds after my Olympic moment was validity enough.  Then his smile turned into giggles, and finally he spoke up.  "Brother, mama!" he said and laughed.  It was weird for the both of us.  This little chunk has been in our lives for just about 8 months now and hasn't spoken a word.  So Diego and I had a blast hearing his brother take on a new human trait. 

I can now retire from this sport, a gold medal winner.   In yo' face, Dada!

Reveling in my motherhood moment of glory- Shirley

Perspective: Rough Night

1:30 A.M.  The sleep train finally arrives.

I had a rough night last night while experiencing the "joys" of motherhood to two boys and sleep deprivation.  It was the domino effect of Child A not wanting to sleep, Child B waking up crying due to Child A,  Adult A home alone as the caretaker, and Adult B coming home at midnight being generally loud and instigating the vicious non-sleeping, crying cycle all over again!  I felt alone in the parenting role; no- worse- because "alone" would have been fine.  I could've handled feeling alone, but the fact that Adult B made things worse - well THAT got under my skin.

I had a rough night, and frankly I woke up pissed off and running off of 4 hours of sleep (give or take).  I had to get ready for work and dropping off the children and EVERYONE was asleep.  Adult B was snoring which caused me to feel a mixture of jealousy and hate.  I'm being brutally honest with my feelings and emotions here.  I had a rough night...

BUT


Life always finds a way of putting things in perspective for me at just the right time.  While I had the luxury of taking the photo above and posting it on Instagram at 1:30 in the morning to bitch and complain about what a rough night I was having; it turns out that other people in Colorado were literally having the worst night ever.  In learning the news this morning of the Batman Screening Rampage, my feelings of anger were suddenly squashed and the new emotions of pity and sadness, respect and love began to refill my heart.  It was further nurtured after learning of a child victim.  A CHILD victim!

I don't care if a man marries a man.  I don't care.
I don't care if you choose to circumsize your child or pierce their ears.  I don't care.
I don't care whether you believe in God or nothing at all.  I don't care.
That's your prerogative...

But once you cross the line of deliberately inflicting unnecessary pain, and possibly death, unto another person.  Well - then I CARE.  What gives you the right to determine another persons' time on this earth?  Who are you to terrorize people that you don't even know just because you can't get your own life together?  Nobody... That's who you are... Nobody.

And sadly nobody is anybody.  Anybody could terrorize anybody off a whim.  It's just the world we live in, and that's why life is too short to be stuck in a state of anger for too long.  I'm not saying that Adult B is getting a hall pass.  I'm just saying that it turns out that I didn't have such a rough night after all.

Life is too short - Shirley 

Couch Dreemz

We're not sure what it is but for the past 2 nights, Diego has been screaming SHRIEKING when it's time to go to bed.  Diego co-sleeps with us while Mateo sleeps in the bassinet next to me (Don't ask my why we threw out all those dollars remodeling our home and creating a nursery/kid's room, if it was never going to be inhabited by little feet).

At around 10 o'clock we all retire to bed to catch the nap train that Mateo's already riding.  Lately - Diego has decided that he doesn't want to go to bed, he doesn't want milk, he DOESN'T EVEN WANT CANDY!  What does he want?  Well he's very specific, even without being able to say it:  he wants his father in the living room on the couch so that the two of them can sleep together there.  "No way!  I've got to work tomorrow." says Hubby. But he gives in the first night, not being able to resist his son's cries.

Before the second night arrives, we talk about it and I tell my spineless Hubby that he's going to have to grow a pair and be strong tonight.  "Lay down the law!"  He must know that what Daddy says, GOES.  45 minutes of gut-wrenching cries, shrieks for "Dada", "Mama", and "Cateh" (Couch?), and waking up Mateo to start a crying-in-unison game later, and I'm impressed that Hubby actually stood his ground.  Diego falls asleep crying.

It's too much for Hubby and he has a nightmare that same night.  In the morning, Hubs tells me, "I don't even want to think about tonight." 

That night Hubs is so tired, he temporarily falls asleep on the couch early with Diego (awake beside him).  I'm exhausted too, but I don't have the luxury of just napping any time I need it.  I wash everything (dishes, counters, clothes, even the baby) except my face (too exhausted) and I'm dying to go to bed.  Hubs walks to the bedroom and throws his equally tired body on the bed.  I observe Diego almost begin to start his newest tantrum, and I cut him off  (Mommy Intervention).  I scoop him up after asking him to give me a hug (he's a good hug-giver), ask him if he wants milk ("yeah"), and then I walk carrying him into our bedroom but not before I make a game out of him turning out the living room lights himself (as a Mama, you learn little tricks about what works on your child).  I place him next to his sleepy father and not a peep is made.

"I'm impressed," he says.

"About what?" I ask.  About how I cooked dinner and then washed everything but my face?  About how I changed everyone's diaper and got them ready for bed?  About how it is that I've been non-stop since 6 am this morning, and I know for sure that I'm going to have to wake up for a 1am and 3am feeding at the least?

"About how you stopped Diego from crying."

"Oh," was all I could respond.  Just that, huh?  THAT'S EASY when you don't spoil the crap out of your child and let him get away with murder (if you don't get it - I'm directing this sarcasm towards my hubby)!  But he won't get it. So I just roll over in bed, and catch the sleep train instead. Then the train hits a detour and Mateo jumps off the caboose about a quarter to 1am... and the ride's over for me.

My balls are bigger than yours, I just wear mine on my chest--- from Pinterest - Shirley

Pink Poop!

I commend you for reading the title of this post and still deciding to click on it and read it!
 

This week's writing prompt:
Happy almost Mother’s Day! Share a parenting moment where you really began to realize what this mothering thing is all about.

******************************************************************************
You know you're a mom when you're taking pictures of your children's poop!

I nearly had a heart attack this morning as I changed Diego's diaper and found a pinkish/reddish poop waving hello back at me.   It could possibly have been blood, but it also seemed to have a weird bright halo of pink to it.  It almost seemed like it was glowing an aura of pink.  I'm serious - it was GLOWING.  I couldn't explain the color, so I took a picture of it just in case (and I am sparing this blog by not posting the picture).  Long ago I read somewhere that you'd be amazed to see how conversations about poop become so normal after you have children. So then was I so crazy for taking it a step further and preserving the moment in a photo?

Immediately, my mind wandered back to Sunday afternoon when I had a less-than-proud mommy moment where I let Diego have an olive knowing full well that it still had the pit inside.  I really didn't think he would actually swallow the pit, but he did and it was too late for me to do anything about it.  Was this diaper present the repercussion to my lazy Sunday afternoon antics? 

Feeling down about my Sunday mommy failure, it was time to bring the kids to grandpa's, suck it up and admit my flaw to grandpa so he could monitor the situation while I waited to for the advice nurse line to open.  I showed Grandpa the picture and he didn't have his glasses on, so it was hard for him to make out the color.

"I gave him cranberries in his oatmeal yesterday.  It could have been those." he said possibly trying to console me.  "But he didn't have THAT many."

Grandpa squinted his eyes while staring at my Iphone, retracing Diego's diet of the day before, then the light bulb went off.

"I know what it is.  Come here," he said and led me to his locked office.  "He had a bunch of these yesterday.  So much that I had to hide them and lock them in the office."

I let out a great sigh, "Pink wafers...."

As of right now, Diego's diet is explicitly free of pink and red foods for a few days, just to be absolutely sure.  I guess I need to re-think tonight's spaghetti marinara dinner!

So what is this mothering thing all about?  It's about doing things you never imagined yourself doing for the love of a little human (like snapping pics of poop).  It's about realizing that as a Mom you can't really have one moment where you let your guard down (like handing out olives with pits).  And most importantly, it's about keeping pink wafers far, far away from your little one's digestive system!

Have you ever snapped a pic of poop?  Or am I the only nut job around here? - Shirley

What If...

I think you know me by now to be a very free-spirited, easy-going type of mother.  I don't stress myself out by setting unrealistic expectations on my children or myself as a mother.  I just focus on precious moments with my family.  Otherwise, I would have never made it out alive as a pregnant mother of a toddler living through a total house remodel that left our daily lives without any kind of structure or normalcy. 

I encourage Diego to learn and explore at his own pace.  I don't place too many nit-picky restrictions on him, but he does often hear "no" from me.  Like "No, you can't have candy for breakfast" or  "No, don't kick the dog!" or "No, you are not allowed to play on your tablet until after your noon nap."  And he understands and obeys for the most part. (Except for the candy - those no's automatically lead to temper tantrums.)

Diego is allowed an occasional soda or more-than-occasional piece of candy, he sometimes falls asleep after us watching Youtube videos on my husband's iPad, and we don't prohibit him from running or riding his tricycle in the house. We let him be.  He is a child, after all.  And he's had some amazing progress all on his own.  His two recently-learned words are "Candy" and "Apple", but he isn't stringing two words together yet like "Candy Apple" which he should be by now.  (OK maybe not exactly "candy apple" but you know what I mean)

And lately I find myself thinking "What if..." and I never wanted to think that.  What if.....  What if I had tried a little harder to push through his maniacal need to be the only one holding and using a book, and tried read him books more often?  What if I spent a little more time with him writing and drawing instead of watching Mickey Mouse Playhouse?  What if I tried a little harder at carrying out a longer monologue when "speaking" to him so that he would have had more exposure to words and sounds.  There are so many things that I could have done.  But that is the past, and "What Ifs" are my present, and my future (Friday) includes me sitting in a waiting room as Diego starts his speech therapy at two years of age. 

"What if"  you click below?

Then you automatically cast a vote!  And Shirley gives Diego a candy apple...

Project Four Zero! 29 Weeks!

Photo idea compliments of Pinterest

It's been a bumpy-bump this week as Baby has been doing some type of gymnastics or hip-hop dancing to pass the time in the womb lately.  I enjoy a few reminder kicks here and there, but when Baby starts to squirm around, it makes me cringe a little.  I can't help but think of that scene in Space Balls where the alien comes out of the man's stomach.  Or in 3rd Rock from the Sun, when the alien inhabiting the female body (Sally) asks the males something like,

"Do you suddenly feel the overwhelming desire to have a larvae parasite shoot from your body, or is it just me?"  I mean, isn't that what it truly is?  There is something alive in my body!

But then, just when he stops squirming, I'm reminded that he's probably cuter than an alien or larvae and then I feel much better!

CRAVINGS

Chocolate - but I've been good and have resisted temptation!  Aren't you proud of me?

SYMPTOMS

Eye Spasms?  Might be related to not being able to sleep well anymore

OUTTAKES

Why does he feel the need to photo-bomb every photo session?

Oh [Tom] Boy! Pet for a Day!

While I was at my baby shower this weekend, I mentioned in conversation that I was a tomboy as a child.  My sister immediately scoffed at my proclamation.  I didn't understand.  I climbed trees, swore off the color pink, caught frogs with my bare hands, and remember fighting the tree in my backyard with my vacuum cleaner attachment sword.

Did I need to pick my boogers, burp, and eat dirt in order to qualify as a tomboy?  I'm not sure.

Anywhoo, I still believe that I WAS a tomboy and that deep down inside believe I will be able to channel that inner, suppressed tomboy as my two boys grow up and do more and more "boy" things.  I had an opportunity to put that to the test on the very next day as Diego and I were playing in our yard.  I could not put my finger on it, but I felt like someone had been staring at me.

After awhile, I spied a tiny little tree frog nestled on top of my hubby's big construction tool chest.   He was looking up at me.

'What great fun!  Diego can play with a new pet.  I have to catch it!' I immediately thought to myself.

Since we moved to the house and began construction, there have been a plethora of animals visiting our yard, some not-so welcome:  mice, snakes, goats (OK the goats were on the other side of our fence but still) etc.  I did not expect to see a tree frog in our area.  I channeled my inner tomboy for a few moments, ready to catch the frog with my bare hands an empty Activia Yogurt container on the ground.  Just as I recalled, the tree frog was super easy to catch and I brought Eugene Jr. (In memory of my childhood tree frog, Eugene) to the construction zone where Diego could get a better look at him.

 
As suspected, Diego was fascinated and delighted by the frog.  He was also surprisingly cautious and gentle with it.  He never actually handled it, but he did touch it softly for a split second.  But after about 10 minutes, he got bored, waved goodbye to the frog, and ran off in the other direction.  I returned Eugene Jr. to the wild a tree stump and watched him hop away.  I give myself tomboy points for this episode, and not actually needing to touch the frog. Though I would have if needed.  Frogs don't bite.
 

But then later that night, hubby and Diego got into a farting contest.  Diego is actually quite good if you ask me.  But I still decided to sit this one out.  My inner tomboy was not THAT crude; I'd rather eat dirt.

Shadow Boxing

They say once you have a baby, it will change your life. I must admit although I wanted children, I also rather liked my life, pre-baby. Maybe I'm mental, but my goal might just be a double-edged sword for I am fighting the inevitable all the way through. My goal is to be the best mom, but I don't want being a mom to define who I am. So far, I am indeed failing miserably.

This blog was originally not intended as a motherhood or baby blog, but looking through recent posts, it seems to have morphed into such. I'm also not sure how this blog site works, but as I browse through random blogs, I am directed to other mommy blogs. It makes me wonder if this is truly random, or have I already been boxed in as a "mommy blog"? I know that mommy bloggers are all the rage right now, so I am holding on to this hope that it's all just coincidence. My FaceBook status updates have also taken a hit, and I find myself being more cautious about what I write so that it is not too mommy-centric for my non-mother friends.

I'm hoping that it's because I'm currently on maternity leave, so I have nothing but time right now for my newborn. Maybe once I return to the working world, and socialize with upright humans that have a full set of teeth again, I will be better at my goal. Who am I kidding though? My life has changed, and I am amazed at the ease of which Diego fit right into the position. It's as if I was meant to have a child, and yet I am fighting with myself about how to deal with it.

Last month, I felt like I had woken up and had an instant family. Let me set the scene for you. Night time: driving home from a Tahoe snow trip with my husband and his 14 year old son, Mac, visiting us from Peru. Although Diego was not there, the "instant-family" vibe was. Driving in my Lexus SUV (not a mini-van but close enough) with the light glow of the new GPS system showing us how to get home from our family day trip, and a baby car seat in the back. I felt all I needed to complete the scene was one of those stick figure family window stickers (which I really want) and a DVD player playing cartoons. Trust me, the scene will be complete eventually.
It's not just the car though. The house too, has been "baby-tized". I tried really hard to only buy that which I needed for the baby, so that the house would not be overrun by baby things. Apparently, "that which the baby needed" is more than I first assumed. I slowly see myself fumbling towards rooms filled with hardened plastic toys decorated in all the primary colors. Not yet though.

I will still fight this futile fight all the way. I love Diego though. So I know I will lose.

Which reminds me of my favorite song by Fiona Apple, Shadow Boxer:

"You made me a shadowboxer, baby
I wanna be ready for what you do
I've been swinging all around me
'Cause I don't know when you're gonna
Make your move...

So Darling I just want to say
Just in case I don't make it through
I was onto every play
I just wanted you..."

"Moms" & "Dads"

I'm an "any way the wind blows" kind of person and so it's no surprise that I've been winging this whole motherhood thing. If you ask me what it feels like to be a mom, I can't really tell you yet because even now 6 weeks later, it still hasn't sunk in. I'm a natural nurturer, worrier, and helper and with Diego I feel that these traits, along with my extreme patience, have increased exponentially. So if that's what it feels like to be a mom, coupled with lack of sleep and sore arms, then I guess I do have an answer for you.
My sister told me that she asked her boyfriend Will if he thought she would be a good mom. He said that she would probably have a lot of rules. She admitted that she was bit offended with his response (this coming from the woman that banned me from eating fast food during my pregnancy, and who won't let Will play his video games unless she is asleep, resulting in 3:00 am video game sessions). Will explained that it's because I'm very casual and don't care. In my head I thought that maybe her original question hadn't been answered. What constitutes a "good" mom? Honestly, I think we'll both be good moms in our own special ways. As long as you care about you child and want only the best for them, the rest is just technique.
Not only have I been hashing out what kind of new mom I will be these past few weeks, but I've also played step-mom for a bit. Javier's 14 year old son, who lives in Peru, came to visit us for a few weeks. He's reached a rebellious age, and he is not getting along with his grandfather in Peru. Javier's original intention was to bring him here so he could see that the grass is not greener on the other side right now. Unfortunately, I think it backfired. Once Mac was actually here, it was a different story. Javier behaved as any parent separated from their child might act; he wanted to make up for lost time.


Unfortunately, he has also been putting in long work hours, which left me to be the one hanging out with Mac during the weekdays. Having a newborn made it difficult for me to be able to focus on the new teenager in the house. Since he is a skater, I took him to a couple of skate parks and drove him to the Haight in San Francisco to buy a new board. Mac is very mellow for a 14 year old skater and we got along fine. However, I keep an invisible line drawn because I am not his mother, so we are more like friends. Sometimes I wonder if he would like me to treat him more "motherly" but it would be awkward to outright ask. Though as Diego grows older, and Mac sees our interactions, the last thing I would want is for him to feel alienated. It's hard to gauge our relationship since we don't see each other much, but I imagine he needs nurturing since his mother only calls him about once a year.

Mac did what he could to plead his case to stay in the U.S. behind closed doors to Javier. If Javier was better off financially, I'm sure he would've entertained the idea. Mac painted a picture of turmoil in Peru which tugged at Javier's heart strings. Unfortunately, instead of helping, it caused Javier to grow angry with his own father. On the day that Mac flew back to Peru, after an emotional goodbye at the airport, Javier's guilt and helplessness as a father increased his anger towards his father for causing the turmoil. In his mind he had given his family everything, including a house, and yet it still wasn't enough to make a happy, peaceful family. While we were struggling here in the U.S., they were given everything, and yet they still couldn't get along.
Javier let his emotions rule while speaking to his father over the phone, and it did not go well. After hanging up, he felt really bad having spoken to his father the way that he did.
He entertained the idea of bringing Mac here next year once he finished high school. I would never say no to Javier regarding his son, but my initial thought was that I was just getting used to being the mother of a newborn, how would I deal with suddenly being a full-time step mom as well?
Things seemed to settle down now, and Javier apologized to his father. I believe that the initial plan to have Mac complete his University in Peru is still on, but continued drama can prove to change things again. Since I'm an "any way the wind blows" kind of person, I take things one day at a time. I can't really imagine if I'll be a full-time step mom a year from now, but then again, I couldn't really imagine being a new mom a year ago either. Time changes everything.