He says, I laugh …

Little D attempting to strike up a conversation with a neighbour (who is much too far away to hear him)

It’s so hard to believe that just one year ago, D was barely saying a word and had some serious hearing issues. Before those tubes were in place, our boy was the strong but silent type. These days, however, he doesn’t stop chattering away, and we love it — well, mostly.

I can’t get over how many funny things he says in the run of a day. Here are a few that have had me laughing lately …

  • (Calling out the screen door at the front of the house, to a neighbour hanging out laundry in her backyard): “Hi! … Hi! … Hi! … (turns to me) … Mum, dey not hi-ing me!”
  • (Singing this song from “Potty Time” over the baby monitor): “My body is amazing, amazing, amazing! My body is amazing, as you can see!”
  • (Periodically to himself, while eating his lunch): “Das good, Babe … Das good, Babe.”
  • “I go to Nannie and Grampy’s house and I SEE MY COUSIN JOSH and play a hockey with a COUSIN JOSH!”
  • “Oh no! The pregnant’s gone!” (translation: penguin)
  • (Describing how he arranged his stuffed animals during naptime): “Dey putting on a show. Dey so HAPPY! Doo doo doo, doo doo doo. Good job, am-imals.”
Keep chatting away, little boy. You always know how to make your mama laugh.
xoxo

The thing about boys + girls

Barbies make the world go ’round

I’ve admitted before that I used to be terrified about having a son. Absolutely terrified.

Growing up in a household with only girls, my limited experience with little boys was that they were of the grubby, loud, rambunctious, and destructive variety.

But in the nearly-three years that I’ve been the mama of a little boy, I have realized how very, very wrong I was. Even before having a daughter, I realized I was wrong. But now that I do have a daughter, too, let’s just say that I’m reminded daily how my misconceived notions were totally off-base.

This much I know to be true (in my house, at least):

C (and her doll) having side-by-side kicking and screaming tantrums (which only happen, oh, every three minutes)

Girls are actually way louder than boys. I would have NEVER suspected this, because my mom always talked about how my sister and I were super-quiet little angels (well, for the most part). It’s possible that that’s true for some little girls, but not for mine. C just turned one a week ago, and OH MY LORDY I have never been around a louder child. I used to be afraid of having a boy who was running around the house making top-volume truck noises. Now? I have a near-constant headache listening to this little lady’s shrieks. D is the quiet one!

Girls will pee on you more than boys. This one really surprised me. D only ever peed while we were changing him ONCE in his life (right after we brought him home from the hospital), and he maybe peed on the floor twice as a baby, crawling around in the nudie-pants. But C? That girl has peed on us during multiple diaper changes, and every single time she’s allowed to roam free. Last week, she toddler up to the corner of the couch, lifted her chubby leg, and peed on it like a dog — and let’s just say, it came out from all, uh, angles. Little Sis and I almost died laughing.

D loves his dolls. “Mommy” is the one in the skirt. “Auntie Lely” is the one without pants (sorry about that, Little Sis)

Boys like to play with dolls and dress up. I thought I’d be in for a decade of nothing but Hot Wheels and Transformers, but I was wrong. D does love to play with cars, trucks, and trains, but he also loves to dress up. He has two sets of “dress-up dolls” (these boys from Melissa & Doug). And it warms my heart to watch D play with the dollhouse or my beloved Barbie collection. He walks them around, makes them talk to each other, arranges them in scenes — the works. Is there anything cuter than watching a two-year-old boy tuck in a tiny doll, and then hover the “Daddy doll” (Ken) over the cradle and singing “Hush Little Baby”? No. No, there is not.

C tearing into the contents of a cabinet in the hutch

Girls love cars, dirt, and destruction, too. Growing up without brothers, we didn’t own “boy toys” like cars or trucks — unless you count the white Barbie Corvette? But C has the benefit of an older brother, so she has all kinds of neat things to play with (that she probably wouldn’t have if she had an older sister). She loves to play with his car ramp, and Darling Husband’s old model cars. She loves the train table. She sits in our “rock box” and gets muddy as heck. We used to always joke about how D was “into everything!” when he was a one-year-old, and figured it was because was a busy boy. But now? C is exactly the same way.

***

As D and C get older, it’s so interesting so see how they change and become more and less like each other. Darling Husband and I always seem to be commenting on how something C does is different than D did at the same age — namely, uh, LOUDER.

I guess my point is that I know a lot of friends who have been freaked out to have a baby boy, thinking they were going to be difficult or loud or rambunctious, and — knowing what I know now — I would laugh and tell them that they may be surprised. Boys are not the little monsters they are often made out to be, and girls are not the subdued little girls they are often made out to be.

For friends who find out they’re expecting a baby girl, I would smile, tell them that they may be surprised … and hand them a pair of earplugs!

xoxo

Five things

D getting stuck inside his many sweatshirts


Five things our almost-three-year-old son, D, is obsessed with right now …

  1. Sweatshirts, especially zip-up ones (It’s been a very chilly late-May here in Canada)
  2. Riding in Daddy’s car (Mommy’s van is not cool, as even a two-year-old knows)
  3. Witches and ghosts (specifically, SCARRRRY witches and SPOOOOKY ghosts)
  4. Talking like a teenage boy. He’s saying “Woohoo!” “Oh yeahhh!” “Oh my GOSH!” and giving us a knowing “Ohhhhhh!”
  5. Getting dressed without help, “reading” books to us, singing songs without our accompaniment, and generally being Mr. Independent
Little Miss C
Going for a wheelbarrow ride
Five things our newly-minted one-year-old daughter, C, is obsessed with right now …
  1. Mommy (Seriously, just try to get between us. You’ll be deafened by the shrieks)
  2. Shrieking (see above). She shrieks when she’s happy, when she’s sad, when she’s mad, when she’s been wronged, when life is unfair, when life is exciting, when she sees any of her family members. You get the idea.
  3. Sitting at “the small table” to eat snacks with her big brother
  4. Rides. You should see her face light up when she’s getting pulled around the house in her new pink wagon, like a queen
  5. Headbands. Finally! I broke her! She still yanks them off, but then she tries to get them back on (and sometimes leaves them on the second time). She often toddlers over to her headband box (oh yeah, there’s a boxful!) and tries to try them on. *holding my breath she loves to dress up!*

 

Eating at “the small table”

Beating my "personal best" for breastfeeding

It appears that I haven’t written too much about breastfeeding the second time around, doesn’t it? I don’t really talk about it much these days, early, simply because breastfeeding slowly stops being your entire world, and you almost forget it’s a thing. It’s just mindless.
For those who need a boobie refresher, I nursed our son, D, until he was 13 months (to the day), and I fully planned to do the same with our daughter, C. Once she turned one, I started getting a lot of the pointed “You’re done now — RIGHT, HEATHER?” from family members who are mildly weirded-out by extended breastfeeding. 
However, as it got closer and closer to C’s 13-month birthday (which was Saturday), I realized I wasn’t going to stop at the exact same point. Yes, I could have made it EXACTLY EVEN for the two of them (and I’m kind of big on “fairness,” as someone who grew up constantly feeling that her younger sibling got the better deal — Hi, Little Sis). But not much is “even” between them — one look at the enormous stack of scrapbooks for D, and you’ll realize that.
The main reason I stopped nursing D at 13 months was because I wasn’t getting pregnant (we’d been sort-of trying since just before his first birthday, if I recall). I stopped breastfeeding at the 13-month mark, and I was pregnant with C when D was 14 months. Whether or not it’s related, I don’t know. But this time, I have zero desire to get pregnant again, so I don’t feel a rush to stop.
Not to mention, by continuing, I’ve “beaten my personal best.” And I do get a little satisfaction out of that!

There’s often a lot of Judgey McJudgerson situations when it comes to breastfeeding, and that’s not for me. I don’t care if people formula-feed from the beginning (although I wince a little thinking of the cost, and the amount of work). I don’t care if people breastfeed until their child is four (although that’s not for me). It’s a personal choice. Period.

For me, I’m just taking it day by day and seeing how it goes. Yes, there are moments when I feel like a dried-up milch cow and I kind of want to STOP breastfeeding. But there are also plenty of moments when I’m SO VERY GRATEFUL for the chance to sit down and close my eyes, and snuggle my little baby. Honestly, she’s a loud little thing, and this is one of the few things that will make her quiet!

When will I stop? Who knows? But I can promise you, when I am done breastfeeding, I’m treating myself to a new bra or two. Mama deserves it!

xoxo

The evolution of a closet

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First of all, thanks to everyone who emailed, commented, texted, called, or Facebook-messaged me about Sunday night’s post. My grandfather had passed away earlier that evening, and it basically brought a lot of pushed-down sadness to the surface for me. I appreciate the love, and I’m doing my best to deal with everything. 
***
In lighter news, how about a hall closet update? Yeah, that sounds fun. Remember back in October when I overhauled our front hall closet to turn it into a mudroom of sorts? Well, it needed a few tweaks. 
Here we go!
This is how disgusting our closet used to get. Ew, ew, ew.
Then I gave it this super-awesome makeover, and it was great. But as the kids grew, things needed to be updated, so it was time to revisit it!
The major change was that I took down the clothespins that held the cardstock labels to the red storage bins. The kids were constantly yanking off the clothespins and breaking them, and it made the labels all tattered.
So I made fresh labels from yellow cardstock, and used red embroidery thread to tie them on. Yes, the kids could rip them off — they haven’t yet — but now when they grab the handle, they’re not immediately dislodging a clothespin.
I kept the chalkboard label on the “Outbox” because that stayed the same. That box ROCKS MY WORLD, because it helps me remember things I want to take out to the van, dishes to return to people, borrowed items to give back, etc.

Back to the red bins. We originally had the bin for C’s hats on the far left, but it was always a hassle to reach. Since she wears hats 100% of the time — warm ones in the winter, sunhats in the warm weather — it made a HUGE difference to make it more accessible.
D and C used to each have separate “Accessories” bins, but I condensed them into one bin. Really, how much room does a few pairs of tiny sunglasses take up? D also keeps his “spy goggles” (binoculars) in there.

The famous “Busy Bag” still has its own bin, but the portable DVD player got the boot (we keep it stored in the van now, so it’s always there for long trips).

The Moby wrap never had its own bin before (it had a basket), so it got a little upgrade. I also added the toddler leash, since C is just about ready for it (she’s taking a few steps, but not racing around yet).

Darling Husband also got his very own bin for baseball caps, since ’tis the season for lawn-mowing and other hat-requiring activities.

   

The shoe bins stayed the same, and that has been a GREAT system. No matter what the season, D can dump his snowy boots or sandy sneakers into his bin, and everything can drip onto the mat below. He is responsible for putting his shoes away every single time we come inside, as well as hanging up his own coat (hook is not visible in this pic), and putting his hat, mittens, sunglasses, etc. away.
Look up, look waaaaay up. I did some re-jigging with these bins. Now we have one for snowpants (way up high, since we won’t need them until October or November), a straw bag I use for packing snacks for long car-trips, a bin for tote bags (we use these a lot for packing up clothes, diapers, etc.), a designated spot for me to toss my purse …

 

… a bin for adult hats & mitts, a bin for kiddie hats & mitts, a bin for my scarves …
… a bin for sunscreen and bugspray, and a bin for bubbles …
Our custom key rack is still serving us well, although the hooks aren’t strong enough to hold car keys (Darling Husband keeps his in his pants pocket/on his dresser, and I keep mine in my purse). We frequently use the loose house keys and the shed key, through, and we’ve been good about putting them back afterwards.
  
We only keep our “current” coats in the closet, and the out-of-season ones are stored in our master closet.  However, all snowpants, gloves, mitts, hats, etc. are stored in this closet regardless of season. 
Little C has so many pairs of shoes (mostly hand-me-downs) because her feet are so tiny and odd-shaped (she has meatballs, as Lindsey used to say about J’s feet). We never know what shoe we can coax her feet into!
Our closet, as it looks today!
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Thanks for checking out our hall closet “tweak.” We’ve been really happy with the space, and since we go into it about 56,132 times a day — for shoes, coats, sunscreen, keys, you name it — it’s important to me that it’s functional AND cute. That way I don’t get cranky when the doors get left open! 🙂

xoxo