One Year.

Well, my little lady's first birthday has come and nearly gone. I'm still kind of in shock that she's so big, and now I've got a 2-yr-old and a 1-yr-old. We had a lovely time at her birthday party on Sunday, and at her birthday playdate this morning. She gave me a wonderful birthday gift last night, too. She SLEPT THROUGH THE NIGHT!!!! I think the last time I slept through the night was the night before her actual day of birth. So I woke up this morning feeling like a million bucks.

I got nothing else but some pics from the last couple days. I was stressin' about the birthday decorations, but I ended up really happy with what we pulled together.

Fishies, Cheerios, animal crackers, and raisins. A one-year-old snack buffet!

Getting some candle-blowing "help" from big sissy.

Cake.

One.

Fam.

All the kiddos. We definitely promised them jelly beans to get them all on there.


Done.

Storytime with Daddy before bed.

Found this book about a kitty named Violet. I think our Violet is here to stay, too.

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Just not shiny enough.

Violet's birthday is next Monday. Since her party is in two days, I figured now is as good a time as any to start planning it...

Argh. As a good 21st century mama, I immediately googled "first birthday party" and then became increasingly despondent that I do not have the craftiness or planniness or prettiness required to pull off one of those ridiculously gorgeous parties you see floating around tha blawgz.

Thank goodness I then came across this article, and in particular, this bit of advice:

"theme:
You're tired and busy, but you want to celebrate your baby's first birthday, dammit! Don't go overboard with anything, just make foods you love and invite your favourite people over for a beautiful brunch.

invites:
Nothing elaborate, just get on the horn and ask. Or, even easier, send an email. You don't even have to punctuate it."

Ok. The internet has officially given me permission to get a bunch of balloons, order some pizzas, buy some beers, hang the same HAPPY BIRTHDAY banner we've used the past two years (though this time we'll have to take it down at some point, instead of leaving it up on the wall for Fiona/Mama/Daddy/Jesus' birthdays), and call it a day. Happy birthday, Violet. I really do love you lots. It's just... I don't have the wherewithall to plan an entire Cheerio-themed party, as MUCH as I would love to. I should just embrace my balloons-and-cupcakes self.

It will be great. And you'll turn one either way. Also, walking? My lovey! You're such a big girl!

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Oh Canada.

The other day the girls and I went for a run. Or, I went for a run and they went for a ride. In a double stroller. Which I pushed. While running. In the wind. For 5.5 miles. See, I can make running crazy even when it's actually quite beautiful outside.

While on our run, I came upon several different people rollerblading. ROLLERBLADING?!?!? They still let you do that? I was pretty sure it wasn't allowed outside of like... 1995. Like, I'm serious. I hadn't seen anyone on rollerblades in quite some time. And there were several different people! And I saw one yesterday, too! Apparently it's still done here.

Me, winning a nerd award, back when rollerblading was cool.*

*Cool is relative. Cause I thought I was the shiz, with my white shorts and my rose-print vest and my friendship bracelet on my ankle? HELLZ yeah.

But hey, more power to 'em. Me, I'll stick with running.

So yesterday evening Violet said her first word! Or, what we're counting as her first word. She's done a few that we're like "did she just say Dada? Was that a Mama?" but this was like, an unmistakeable, repeated, unprompted (Well, the first one was unprompted. Then we made her do it like 83 more times for the camera) word! And what was this word, you ask? It was cheese. Guess I take a few pictures of these kids.



And with that, the monsters are awake. Got to dash.

Remember to stay hydrated, y'all.*

*I'm obviously WAY cooler than I was in 6th grade.**

**NOT.

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Oh, that.

Faced my arch-nemesis yet again this morning. Apparently this family wants to eat EVERY day, and that requires continuous grocery shopping? WTF, reality?

It actually went quite well, all things considered. The only comment I have to make is this. Why, bagger guy? Why must you pack my bags so unevenly? The bag of (almost) all frozen food, I get. The separate bag for cleaning/beauty supplies, totally cool. Even the bag of all canned goods I kind of understand (though my shoulder is less forgiving). But why did you split these dry goods in this manner? Why stuff one bag full to the top and leave the other with only a bag of baby carrots, a can of pears, and a thing of chocolate syrup? This irritates me. I used to work at a store. I rang up and bagged groceries. I understand it can be difficult to prioritize and categorize when everything comes at you in no order. But this I do not understand. I would even understand if that tiny bag was the last one you packed and you were just like in the zone and all of a sudden "oh, that's everything?" but no. This bag was in the middle. You chose to stop at three items and place that bag down into my cart. WHY?!?!!?!?!?! I am just so befuddled by your decision, oh bagger boy.

Did you think the blue bag just wasn't up to the job?

Also today. First iced beverage purchase of the season at the 'bux. So stoked about that. Went running this morning for the first time in a month. Apparently when the weather is nice and nobody is impressed by my running 3 miles I lose all motivation. I'm like one of those annoying people who doesn't like a band anymore because they're "too popular". Running. Psh. It's nice out, everyone is running. I used to run when it was cold and nobody else even wanted to go outside. In other words, I'm SUPER lame.

Okay. So this morning went really well. All that stuff I said plus then the babies napped for 3 full hours and I did things like start this blog post. Then they woke up. And we had lunch. And then I got the bright idea to go to the playground before dinner.

It sounded like a good plan. Walk the 15 min to the playground, have a little fun, walk home in time to get dinner in the oven. Oh, yeah, that sounds great! And I'll bring the dog! Cause she'll like that! And it's so nice out!

AHGAROGROGRHOAGGJHGOAHRHGHGH.

First mistake- I decided not to drag the double jogger up from the basement, and instead put Violet in the umbrella stroller and let Fiona walk. Thank goodness she declined my offer of allowing her to bring either her doll stroller or her bike. Our 15-minute walk, while absolutely enjoyable, took us over an hour.

NO, Mama. Don' hulp. Imma push my sister Bi-let.

Second mistake- The dog. Oh, the dog. She's mostly good, but there are NINE JILLION RABBITS and oh the rabbits. This dog is crazy for them. Full on crazy-fit with yelping, she gets so worked up wanting to chase them that she pulls on the leash like a maniac....gah. Nearly knocked Fiona down once. But other than the rabbits...

Third mistake- Got a bit overconfident on the potty training issue. She's been doing so well! And even this morning, when we went grocery shopping, no accidents! Soooooooo yeah. You see where this is going. And not just wet. THANK GOODNESS I went to a new playgroup a couple weeks ago and met a woman that lives directly across the street from this playground, and has a son about the same size as Fiona, so I was able to go over and beg a diaper off her.

So there I stood, on the porch of a fairly new acquaintance. In one hand I held the end of the dog's leash as she pulled like CRAZY toward the three rabbits in the next yard. With the other hand I did my best to clean up my poor little soiled 2-year-old. Violet sat in the stroller, happily crunching away on an apple.

THIS is my life.

Sigh.

As we started back toward home, Fiona started begging to go play on the playground some more. I caved, since quite frankly, the thought of that hour-long walk home was not in the least bit appealing. I called Nate, who mercifully had already arrived home, and was able to drive the mile over to the playground to pick us up. My hero.

And tomorrow we get to wake up and do it all again.

Oh, and Violet pooped in the tub. Again. As usual.

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The Cost of Doing Business. And by "Doing Business" I mean showering.

Woke up this morning a bit later than I had originally intended. Staying up until 2am for NO GOOD REASON will do that.

Anyways. Had wanted to go for a run, but then with it being late I tried to back out of it, then I half-heartedly mentioned that "oh I guess I could just go out for a half hour", Nate called my bluff and offered to do the morning diapers and breakfast routine if I actually wanted to get out (as opposed to making him to THINK I wanted to get out, when in reality I just kind of wanted to stay in bed and still have it be not my fault that I didn't go run.) Make sense? No? I know. Sorry.

ANYWAYS ANYWAYS. Did 2.5 miles in a half hour and it was... okay. A half hour (including warm-up and cool-down) doesn't really leave enough time for me to get into any sort of groove, running-wise. I need at least like 45 minutes, preferably an hour, to really get into it and feel like I've accomplished something. But still. It was something.

So once I got home, Nate was on his way out the door and the children were eating breakfast and I needed coffee and a shower, though not necessarily in that order. Since children were content, I decided to brave the "quick hurry while Violet is in the highchair eating Cheerios and Fiona is occupied with something like a show or in this case her crayons" shower. Sigh. Will I never learn?

Oh, I got my shower, and it was nice. I heard no screaming, no crying, Fiona came up to check on me once but then listened when I told her to go back with sister, and headed back downstairs. I got out of the shower, could hear them talking and laughing so I proceeded to get dressed and even pick out earrings and a necklace! Walk into the kitchen.

Half a box of Cheerios on the floor. Fiona grinning like a maniac as she shovels Cheerios into her mouth with one hand and throws them like beads in a Mardi Gras Parade with the other hand. Violet in her highchair with her tray literally brimming with Cheerios banging her hands down and making Cheerios bounce around and around and off the tray and...

It took us like 20 minutes to sweep them up because Finn insisted on "helping", which you may know by it's other name- "Walking through the pile and deliberately sweeping Cheerios back into the area I just swept up and then taking the dustpan that we have finally filled and dumping it right next to the trash can and laughing the entire time"

In other words- it's Tuesday.

The only thing funnier than these pictures is the fact that my reaction, upon seeing this scene, was to turn around and run back upstairs for my phone so that I could take a picture of it.

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While You Were Sleeping. Or, Children Don't Stay Where You Put Them.

Allow me to preface this post with an announcement:

It's STILL FRICKING SNOWING!!! Come on. There has got to be an end to this? I'm so sick of cold and snow!!!!!!!!!!!!

The part that really sucks though, is I know it's gonna get worse before it gets better. Cause at least everything is still frozen and relatively clean... once it warms up its gonna be muddy like nobody's business. And yuck, that's not playground weather at ALL.

That out of the way, I would like to report that I ran my 10k race this past Sunday and it went quite well, aside from the fact that the entire course was ice. I am not even exaggerating. It had warmed up last week, so the trail it was on (yeah, I for some reason assumed it was a road race. It wasn't.) HAD been all muddy and slushy and wet but then it got cold again overnight and so the entire length of the race was ice. Some parts black ice, some parts snowy ice, some parts puddles of ice, some parts that kind of ice you get when slush (complete with footprints) just freezes? Yeah. Not the nicest surface to run on. BUT. I finished the race, didn't fall, and actually beat my goal time by 5 minutes. And they gave me French Toast and sausages afterward, so I'd say it was a resounding success.

Photo courtesy of a random lady that I saw struggling to do a self-pic and offered to take it for her in exchange for this.

Which brings me to my next topic. (Eff segues.) The children and the sleeping. Things have actually been pretty good around here lately. We've had a nice routine going, one that allows me two free hours in the afternoon, which I am totally for. But yesterday.. oi.

Several friends of mine have asked me, upon becoming new mamas themselves, "But how can you get a shower? I can't even figure out how to do it with one baby! And you've got the baby and the toddler!" I answer- naptime. If simultaneous naps fail, I'll either put the little one down for a nap and then take the big one in the shower with me, or I'll put the big one down for her nap, stick the little one in the johnny jump-up in the bathroom doorway, and then get a glorious 14 minutes to myself. We went with the latter yesterday. Put Fiona in her bed, tucked her in, hung out in the doorway long enough to be satisfied that she was staying put, johnny-jump-upped the baby and stepped into that steamy goodness. Mid-shampoo I hear a little girl say "Mama?" and I'm pretty sure Violet didn't start talking since the beginning of my shower, so I very sternly say, "Fiona, you march your little self back to bed and take your nap."

Then nothing but silence and some distinctly Violetty baby-babble. SO I think, wow, that actually worked. I am awesome at this. Did not realize that she was not, in fact, napping, but carrying armloads of books from her room into the bathroom. When I stepped out of the shower I saw this-


and when I asked her (as sternly as I could manage) "What are you doing here, Missy Girl?" I got this-

This, ladies and gentlemen, is the very definition of a "shit-eating grin".

I just. I can't be mad. She was so proud of herself. She said she was going to work with Daddy and her books onna potty. I said to bed to bed. And she did.

And slept, covered in her books.

Part Two. Bedtime.

My first mistake was allowing her to open a present (that I knew she'd be crazy about) right before bedtime. She opted to play with her "decorates" instead of a bath, she served us up some "happy birthday cakecake" instead of storytime, she even wanted to sleep with her new toy. (So, Auntie Heather- it was a total hit. Thanks!) So she's in bed, playing with her little play food birthday cake, I can hear the wooden pieces clacking together, I'm like "Well, this will probably take a little longer than normal, but at least she's in bed."

She attempts to leave the room to serve me some cake. I turn her back around. She cries, then stops. Nate and I were sitting in our room talking, waiting for her to fall asleep, and then we hear her coming down the hallway again. "Quick!" I say, "pretend we're asleep. Let's see what she does." So we did.

Bad move on my part.

She came in, looked up at the bed, then turned around and went back to her room. Then came back and checked on Nate's side and went back. She did this like a dozen times, and then came in carrying her new cakecake and climbed up into bed with us (still "pretending" to be asleep, though I think Nate had actually fallen asleep by now) and snuggled right in and I thought that this was so stinking adorable that I just let it happen. Cool, I thought, I'll just let her fall asleep here and then I'll carry her into her room.

Moments later (I thought), I feel somebody kissing me right on the mouth. I taste... Nutella? What? I open my eyes and see the Nutella-covered face and hands and arms and jammies of a two-year-old who has not in fact been snuggling and sleeping, but has taken advantage of her sleeping parents and has been exploring. When asked, she says "Ona have choc-lat. With a knife!"

I clean her up, get her into bed for REAL, she finally actually falls asleep, and I go downstairs to survey the damage. And realize that it's 11:00pm. Which means Nate and I fell asleep around 9 and this kid was just chillin' on her own for TWO HOURS.

This whole incident was only funny because she didn't get herself hurt. She could just have easily pulled a sharp knife out of the drawer, or a glass down from the cabinet, or the Nutella could have been where it belongs in the pantry (instead of on the counter where I left it from my dinner-making-time snack) and she could have stacked things on top of stools to try to reach it. So the moral of the story is- those annoying childproofy doorknob things are now a necessity.

The scene of the crime. Poor hollowed out orange. Never did nothing to nobody. We also found a nutella-covered fork this morning. In the silverware drawer.

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Just call me Suzy.

There are just some days when it all comes together. Morning starts with 2-yr old coming in to snuggle with Mama and Daddy. The most heartmelting moment was when I came back from the bathroom to see her hugging Nate, and she looked up at me and said, "Look, Mama! Daddy's my friend!"

Downstairs. Make amaaaaaaaazing oatmeal for breakfast.

Frozen fruit means I can have berries like normal people!!!

Pack lunch for Nate, then begin making banana chocolate chip muffins.

My girlie loves to "hulp".

Make homemade dough for tonight's pizza. So excited about that.

Using my Kitchenaid mixer makes me feel grownup. Also, my little kidlet was eating flour by the spoonful while my back was turned? Flour? Really, kid? You're such a little weirdo!

Sit on floor, drinking coffee and playing with babies while they eat muffins.

This napkin may have been lifted from Nancy Chang's during my rehearsal dinner. I'm just saying that that is possible.

Let's pretend she didn't just find that muffin halfway underneath the dishwasher...

And so on.

I don't have many days that make me feel like I have a real handle on this "being the little wife" homemakery thing. I'm not a natural at the cooking and the cleaning and the grocery shopping (oh, the grocery shopping). But it is my job right now, and I think I could probably put in more effort than I typically do. So here's my start at doing that. I'm not saying I'll suddenly start cooking meals from scratch every night, or that the house will always be spotless, but I'm going to put in a concerted effort.

And hey, I've made my bed every day this week, so I think I'm already on my way.

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