Testing, testing

Always testing.  I get it.  She's growing up, finding her voice and self in the world.  This requires some pushing back, you know, to see where the boundaries really are.  But do we need to draw out that line EVERY DANGED DAY?

There is nothing I am more willing to do and also dread more than consequences.  One time I shocked myself by threatening to take away the chocolate pumpkin we had just bought at Sees.  We spent a good 5 minutes choosing the treat, it was now a prized possession.  So when the threat came out of my mouth, that the squawking in the mall had to stop or else....I was afraid of what I might actually have to do.  She did it no less than three more times, with a very, "I'm doing it anyways" sort of attitude.  Boom- chocolate pumpkin confiscated.  

The following scene wrecked me.  Crying.  Urges that, "Now I'm listening" and, "I'm behaving now" though red, puffy wet eyes.  I explained that I appreciated her behavior now, and that she still wasn't getting the chocolate.  She didn't like that so much.  Following through is the worst/best thing ever.  So completely awful for the instinct to rescue my beloved from her hurt that I created.  I crowded out those thoughts with reassuring ones that this moment and others like it will be why she doesn't behave like a wild dog whose parents have no say.

Tonight and last night's consequences were no books before bed.  Our routine calls for two books before lights out.  This is a big deal.  After making the decision to continue with the unacceptable behavior (tonight it was splashing tons of water out of the bath tub), I laid it out.  

Again, the drama.  Again the insistence that now she was behaving/listening.  Again I wanted to read the books anyways.  But I didn't.

Short term discomfort for long term awesomeness?  I hope so.

Parenting is hard!

Ball smashing

Every day my wee-one asks to do an art project.  Today, a rainy frigid sort of day, was the perfect time for a 'project' that took a bit more effort.  So, upon consulting one of my Pintrest boards, I found it.  We were gonna smash some balls.

Goods required: cotton balls, flour, water and food coloring.  Check, check, check and check.                    

                    

       

                     

 


Basically, you mix equal parts flour and water, add food coloring to your liking and douse a cotton ball in the mixture.  The you bake them at 300 degrees for 45 minutes until they are hard.  Then....you smash them.  Crunchy on the outside, soft in the middle.

It was fun for a minute.  They were kinda hard to smash and I was reminded that I did get this recipe/idea from a site that was promoting ways to keep your boy-child amused.  My girl-child isn't so interested in smashing stuff.

She is interested in other things....

We still smashed all those suckers.  Oh, the destruction, oh the humanity!

Woes of the world

How gross is election time?  Like really, really gross.  So many heavy handed opinions, such fervor and enough fiery passion to drive the masses apart.  I don't think I've heard so many threats to move abroad should one candidate or the other win.  I've heard  heartfelt opinions from both sides about how awful, terrible, horrendous our country will become should one or another win.

It annoys me to no end.  You can't all be right.  We're talking the equivalent to stating a fact one moment and the next person coming along to state that said fact is wrong.  So are there no facts?  No 'good' people? The local election is no exception.

I'm ready for it to be over.  The funny thing is, it's never really over.  The losers will be endlessly blaming the woes of the world on the fact that their guy didn't win.  As if it would have been so wonderfully different if their guy won, as if someone has what it takes to actually make a difference.

In my opinion, the guy who can clear out the crap is never gonna get the chance.  He won't have the resources because he won't be supporting powers that be to continue their charade.  I heard that there are over 100 people running for President.  Why is it that only two of those people are shoved in my face daily?  I know the answer, and that's why we'll stay stuck.

Your guy isn't going to make things "better".  Sorry.

Love and headaches

As my friend Ashley would say, let's bring it in for the real thing.  This era of parenting=the most challenging time of my life. 

I know it sounds dramatic.  And it's the truth.  We're talking about another person's life here.  My actions, reactions and basically any thing I do is a learning moment for my daughter.  This sucks.  Like, a lot.  I'm working on a 50/50 ratio here of  "Ro I can handle" and "Ro I wanna throw out the window".  This computes to: half the time I think I'm a pretty kick-ass mom, half the time my blood pressure is spiked, my head feels like it's going to explode and I'm wrestling with yelling awful things.  Rule #1: don't say things to a toddler that you don't wanna hear back.  Oh, yeah.

I'm also working with a pregnant body/brain.  Who knows if I could pull this off beautifully if not for hormons.  It's not even worth considering because that scenario doesn't exist.  However, now I'm freaked out that my unborn child is getting all kinds of stress hormones and will come out colicky and impossible.  It's a fact- stressed out pregos often pop out babies that are more prone to being stressed.  Time to take up meditation.  For reals.

What I really want...no, need is a day or two to myself.  Last year I went into the mountains, did yoga and ate delicious healthy meals 3x a day (that I didn't make!) for a few days.  It was a struggle for me then, it wouldn't be now. 

Oye. 

Woes of two

Have I been pregnant forever?  No?  Only 16 weeks?  Are you certain?

I am 16 weeks pregnant.  I've lost 20 pounds and gained back 4.  I no longer feel wretched in every moment, hence the 4 pound gain.  Hooray!!  My eating habits are still highly suspicious.  My food aversions include almost everything.  At least it seems that way sometimes.  I've given up being vegan for now.  Everything I ate pre-prego gives me the heaves.  The new game plan: be as vegan as my appetite allows.  I've gotta say this is a huge relief.  I still won't be eating meat.  For the most part this has meant allowing for cheese.  Also some baked goodies which almost always means eggs and butter were used.  Have I noticed a difference?  You bet!  Adding dairy back in after 8 months clean has meant gas pains, feeling grossly full and phlegm.  Awesome, right?!

Then there's this other kid.  The "original" O'Hagan family addition.  Did you know that she's 2 years old?  The age of 2 is as glorious as it is stupefying and maddening.  She's undeniably brilliant.  She wants to sign everything, including letters.  She asks thoughtful questions, she's observant in ways that I hadn't considered and is on a quest, it seems, to conquer the world and make it her friend.  I mean really, try and not be this kid's friend.
She also ask questions.  Those questions lead to more questions.  Which opens up another line of questioning.  In my less proud mommy moments I have been heard saying, "OK!  Let's be done now!  I don't know!" while the cauldron of impatience is writhing and seething and verging on a really unbecoming breakdown.
She also has mind numbing mood swings.  We're talking: happily chatting away, traumatizing meltdown, resumes chatting...all within 60 seconds.  Ethan and I just look at each other, a mixture of, "Did that really just happen?" and, "I can't mentally deal with this sort of insanity" emanating from our eyes.
Then there's the testing.  We are no longer newbies at using the 'time-out'.  In some of her more insightful moments she actually chooses a time-out.  Almost like she gets that she can't handle life in that moment and needs to sit just quietly for a moment (did you get that "Ferdinand" reference?).

Parenting is a real treat.  So much joy and so much stress in each day.  The emotional output is intense!   It's no wonder I'm exhausted by 7pm everyday.

It's a trip, man.

Kell, you are not my friend

I'm 12 weeks pregnant.  Still mostly sick.  I had one good week, it was glorious!  Then the puking resumed. Super lame.

I don't cook, my gag reflex is too touchy.  My poor family eats out mostly.  The dishes we do make sit there and sit there and sit there.  My dish doing time is the evening and evenings are the worst.  I just lay there and mentally stave off the up-chuck....unsuccessfully.

Now that you have been updated on my ongoing yuckiness, I really wanted just to get our pregnancy woe out on the floor.  I'm no good at hiding stuff, especially if it is affecting my life.

Ever heard of the Kell antigen?  It's kind of a problem for our baby right now.  The explanation is steeped in genetics-speak, so I'll keep it as simple as I know.  Ethan has the Kell antigen in (well, on) his blood.  Only 9% of people do.  So when I was pregnant with Ro, my body was introduced to it because she has Kell, like her Daddy.  For the record, there is nothing good, bad or indifferent about having it....unless you don't and your baby does.

Since then my body produced antibodies against it, it's like a foreign invader.  So my baby is like a foreign invader.  Not ideal.    This only becomes a problem if my antibody response becomes high.  Right now it's low.

High response means our baby becomes anemic and they would do a blood transfusion in-utero.  There is no risk of losing the baby.  There is no long term effects on the baby either.

Low response means that nothing happens.  I just go on with pregnancy like normal, deliver, etc.

So every month I get a blood test to see where my response is at.  And that's it.  There's nothing else they can do.  No prevention, no shot, no nothing.  Just waiting.

Crazy, right?

Disneyland and some sweat

Oh, Disneyland.

I hadn't been in a LONG time.  Twenty years.  Ugh.  I'm old enough to say that I did something "twenty years ago".  Insert whimper here.

We only had one day and, after taking in advice from those who came before, I had decided that we would take it easy...no matter how much I wanted to see, do, experience.  Turns out this was a great idea.  The whole thing was completely overwhelming for Rosie's two year old mind.  I was verging on overwhelmed myself.  For example, upon entering the park and having Mickey march by us leading a band, I nearly broke down in tears.  I felt pretty silly and did my best to keep some composure.  This happened at least two more times while we were there.  Another time was the start of the parade: the drummers and the joy and the fact that we were in freaking Disneyland.  Well, I'm pregnant too.  I wanted so desperately for Rosanna to feel it.  To be overjoyed and in awe.  Nope.

That there is a look of concern.  It showed up many times during our Disney day.  

"You wanna go meet Mickey?!".  Concern.

"Time to get in the ship to ride Peter Pan!"  Concern.

Headed into the Small World tunnel.  Concern.

Small World was a hit, by the way.  Peter Pan....not so much.  Winnie the Pooh?  Winner!  Dumbo?  Winner!  So much to see, do, eat.  We probably saw a third of the park.  Maybe.  I was super impressed with the staff.  They were unabashedly committed to our experience.  Every one of them referred to Rosanna as "Princess".  Nice touch.  Every one of them kept up the joy for the entire day.  It was pretty unreal.  

I'd love to recount every glorious step we took and every moment where I felt like a giddy little kid, but that would only be interesting to me....let's round it up by saying we stayed until 11:30pm then crashed in a fulfilled heap for many many hours.

The whole purpose of our trip was to run a half marathon.  The Disneyland Half Marathon, specifically.  Half marathons are 13.1 miles.  A challenging distance, to be sure, but not as crazy as a full marathon.  

So my mom and I woke up in the four o'clock hour to make it to Downtown Disney for a 5:45am start time. Ugh.  So dark.  SO MANY people.  17,000.  Can you believe it?  Insanity.  The first few miles of the race went through California Adventure and then Disneyland.  There were characters, ready to embrace our sweaty bodies for a photo op.  It was massively cool.  Captain Hook, Princesses, Army Men (Toy Story), Darth Vader, so many!  

We took a few photos, but some of the lines for a photo op were a bit too long.  The rest of the run was through ugly Anaheim, it's only redeeming moment was running through Angels Stadium.  

Being a pregnant lady, I hadn't trained in awhile.  Not eating+puking+zero energy=no training.  I lowered my expectations, told myself I wasn't going to push it.  I'd do what I could, I wasn't running for time.  It turns out I'm pretty rad.  I finished!  Honestly, without my Mom it wouldn't have happened.  I ran with her the whole time, we stopped only for the bathroom, character photos and water stations.  How completely awesome are we?  Had I been solo, I'm certain my negative mind-chatter would've won out and I'd have caught a ride to finish line.  

Crossing a finish line after an intense run is one of the cooler things I've done.  It's so rewarding to have completed an awesome feat, to know you beat out all the aches and negative thoughts and just made it happen.  

I highly recommend it!