2.5 Years

I was thinking the other day about what I did before you came along.  Whatever it was, I must not miss it if I can barely remember it.  That was only 2.5 years ago, but it seems more like eons ago.  I've always felt like I had an old soul, and now it just feels wiser.  You've re-invigorated my life and gave it a new sense of purpose which sometimes causes me to worry.  I worry I may lose myself in a world of choo-choo trains, dinosaurs, and space guns, but in the end the final prize of a World's Best Mom tea cup is just too alluring!  I complain a lot about how tired I am, but I never tire of your face... especially your huge, enviable doll eyes.  You're my crazy kid, and I love you.

Here are your 2.5 year tidbits:

• You're data in support of the terrible twos statistics.  You have a regular temper tantrums and you love to say "No" or "Nononononoooooo"!  One time I kept asking you if you wanted rice (because you're so flighty with your responses) and on the third time you said in the most annoyed tone, "Noooooo!" and a sourpuss face.  I swear I had a split-second flash of a teenager.  All it was missing was the infamous eye-roll. And suddenly I was THAT mom.
• You love your Kindle Fire.  You and your dad can have vegging out contests on the couch with each of your tablets in hand.  Most of the time you fight with your dad for his Ipad because everyone knows that the Ipad is just plain cooler.  Dad usually ends up on your Kindle.
• You're more accepting of bathtime.  Earlier this year I got you to accept sitting in a bathtub without crying bloody murder.  That is - until I poured water on your head (being careful not to wet your face). Let the wailing commence!  Lately we've reached a somewhat happy medium where you're sort of calm in the tub, but you won't sit anymore.  You MUST stand for your entire bath.  Teenage thoughts enter my mind again.  This boy is meant to take showers instead of baths.  If only we can get him to wet his head.
• Two is your favorite number.  Is it because you're two?  I don't know.  But you use it to count "Two, Two, Go!" and you use it to describe a second item when there are two of them.  It's awesome.  I'm trying to get you to respond to the question "How old are you?" but you've been non-cooperative (Please see the first bullet).  Maybe by the time I succeed, you'll be three...
•  You are obsessed with dinosaurs, Dino Dan on Nickelodeon, Godzilla, and sharks (yeah - I have such a boy)
• Tooth brushing is a daily struggle but it becomes World War 3 when I focus on the top teeth.  You say, "No up. Down!"  I haven't checked but I think your molars came in because you like to pull the front collar of the shirt you are wearing and bite on it until the front of your shirt is soaked.  Your favorite T-shirt (Go-Diego-Go) now has a hole.  
• You scream "Mama!" so that I watch and respond to every little thing that you do.  
• We had a small bout where you fought us to go to bed. We tried lots of tactics like tricking you into bed, making a game out of it, and just plain leaving you in the family room.  One night you were having such a major temper tantrum that I tried the unspeakable:  treating you like a human being and talking to you!  I got down on my knees to your eye-level and began to rationalize why it was bedtime.  And you know what?  It worked!  Only for about a week, but your tantrums were never as intense again.  Nowadays we've found that sticking to our guns and having you cry it out, with a little bit of us rationalizing with you has made bedtime a little more palatable.
• You are a Daddy's boy and your dad gloats about it
• Sometimes you just bust out in this hysterical laugh that seems forced and fake (and a little nerdy).  Like yesterday when you rolled your car window down and stuck your hand so that it was flying in the wind. You kept forcing the laugh, which in turn made me crack up, so you forced it even more, which cracked me up even more.  We were forcefully laughing all the way home.
• You wear a size 9 shoe and all your 2T pants are floods.  I need to buy 3T.
• You like to ride your tricycle around the house.
• You love your little brother but you also use him as a scapegoat and he sometimes annoys you.  "Did someone go caca?"  Diego: "Brother, caca!"; "Diego, do you want to take a bath?"; "No!  Bubble brother!".  The other day you hauled your brother in his walker all the way to the kitchen and left him there so he would stop annoying you while you played with your toys.  Problem solved.
• You've been going to weekly speech therapy for about 6 months now.  The therapist got you to stop saying "Gah" for "Yes"  now you say "Ya" except when you fall down and you're stunned.  Are you OK?  "Gah!"
• The picture below is mostly for me to compare when your little brother is 2.5 but these are all the words you know how to say (although you understand so much more):  

I swear I didn't mean to highlight Row 22 on purpose, but yeah it's an important word.

Enjoying every crazy minute of motherhood thanks to you! - Shirley

Empty Nest

Last night there were big changes over at my place people.  BIG CHANGES!  While it was probably another night for you with the same routine of tucking in the kids, there was a minor tweak in my bedtime routine.  It involved a detour of placing Mateo in his crib in the nursery to sleep instead of the bassinet beside my bed.

I had been preparing mentally for this for months.  I felt like I was never going to be ready to allow my child to sleep in a different room.  But after the previous night, something snapped and I actually DECIDED it was time.  I rustled the covers; Mateo would wake up.  Hubby started snoring; Mateo would wake up.  The dog started scratching himself; Mateo would wake up.  Doing the math, I realized there were 5 bodies inhabiting my master bedroom, including the dog.  It was just too much.  How could anyone get a good nights' sleep?

As I placed Mateo in his crib, I felt a bit of sadness but I knew it was for the best.  I kept telling myself that it was exactly like when he sleeps in his crib during the day, only now it was night.  I left our door and Mateo's door open and I tiptoed out of the nursery to find my toddler, Mr. "I don't want to sleep in the bed and will kick and scream to sleep on the couch" sitting and relaxing on the couch with his Kindle Fire.

"Diego, do you want to go take a nap with us?" I asked.  "No!" he replied.  Exhausted due to the week of sleep deprivation I simply gave up and said, "OK, Mama's going to sleep.  Give me a kiss." and he did.  I left him there safe on the couch in the dark playing on his Kindle. 

Hubby and I started to get ready for bed.  Suddenly, Guess Who came hopping into the bedroom with his Kindle and plopped himself onto his spot in the bed and snuggled in?  I whispered to Hubby, 'don't make a big deal about it, just ignore it.'

And we all fell asleep.  The night enveloped our house with sweet dreams until 4:45am when I woke up to hear Mateo starting to stir.  It was a successful night, but it still saddens me deeply that Mateo is no longer in our room. 

"I don't want to close my eyes. I don't want to fall asleep, cuz I'd miss you baby.  And I don't want to miss a thing" - Aerosmith

Deep Aerosmith, deep... - 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