Pukeocalypse (Revisited)

So earlier this week, Her Bad Mother issued something of a challenge. After narrating the story of baby poo gone awry, Hold The Mustard, she asked readers to relay their own tales of children's embarassing and public bodily functions. Sure she wanted comments, but I had a story that was too good not to record for future embarassment posterity...

Fin has a senstive stomach, always has poor kid. And that's awful for me - I HATE puke. Give me the stinkiest, leakiest diapers on the planet and I'll take them any day over puke. Chalk it up to the fact that one's a normally occuring bodily function and one is sooo not. But Anyway, Fin's what I call a puker - one of those kids who can get sick at the drop of a hat. As such I have far more than a mama's share of stories where he's decorated various strollers, locals, and people with his talent. But there's one occassion that just stands out.

When Fin was little (and of course, there was no Dash of yet to speak) we used to go on long walks with the other mamas. In our zeal to work off those last of the baby lbs, we made our walks longer and longer. One of the favorite routes was to Whole Foods. It's almost 7 miles roundtrip and mostly street-side. I was always mindful to feed Fin before setting out on these journeys since not only did he have a sensitive stomach, he was (is) also very selective about what goes in it. So picture us at Whole foods, three mamas and three babies in strollers and since we had been walking, we were some hungry mamas. I was so surprised that Fin actually liked my sandwhich, that I didn't think about the fact that his tummy might have already been a tad on the full side.

I'm sure you get where this is going.

I should have also mentioned that Fin is also an amazingly quiet puker. Which explains why I didn't notice anything amiss until I heard the gasps of my friends and everyone else in viewing distance. It was like one of those gross out movies where you can totally tell there is a hose behind the puker's head. Only there was no hose. And seemingly no end in sight. I watched in horror for a few seconds, then worried, then wondered when the hell he was going to stop! When he finally seemed "done" I wheeled him (oh yeah, did I mention, he was IN THE STROLLER this whole time?!?!) into the ladies room. Triage. I grabbed him out of the stroller and stripped him, throwing the dirty clothes on the floor. Then I washed him thoroughly in the sink and changed a diaper midair (I know, mommies are the true Ninjas). Then I looked from my clean (and now very happy) baby to the stroller. It was a horror scene. I started throwing handfuls of water from the sink at the stroller. NOT HELPING. At this point, we've been in the bathroom damn near half an hour so one of the other mamas came in to check on us and had the good sense to take the happy baby away from his near hysterical mama. Now it was just me and the stroller. And the bathroom was already beginning to STINK.

Don't forget, I'm at BEST three very long miles from home. With a naked baby. And a DISGUSTING stroller.

So I started abusing their whole supply of paper towels along with some sink-soap and doing my best to at least get the dang thing wiped down...and I the whole time I can HEAR people talking outside the door about how there's this crazy lady in the bathroom trying to hose vomit off of her stroller.

Knowing that I'm beat, I wheel out the vomit-mobile which is now soaking wet and still reeking (why oh WHY does kids puke smell so much worse than adult puke?). And just when I'm ready to live the nightmare of carrying naked Fin while pushing the sopping stroller the long way home, my friend Monika comes to the rescue. Her hubs is home and can come pick us up and drive us to our home. Touched by another mamma's consideration (not to mention the fact that she was willing to let that STINK anywhere NEAR her car), I made it home. Where it took me three rounds with the hose and carpet cleaner and lysol to get the stroller to "passable".

And that is my worst story of public embarassement (at least involving bodily functions)... at least so far.

Do I REALLY Have to Play Nice?

So I have to be honest about something, and I'm just going to come right out and say it so I can immediately stifle any ridiculous idea your imagination can conjure. I have a wicked fear of being left out. Or left behind. Or left. Wicked. So, there's that.

When I got to school to pick Fin up on Thursday there was some weird mommy dynamic going on. One of the mama's I usually chat with a little had run into a friend and the other one was giving me the brush-off (or so I have decided in my paranoia). All of a sudden I felt like there had been a "make friends" social that I had missed. Seriously, I had to rack my brain to try and figure out if there WAS something I had missed. So I picked Fin up and fretted the rest of the day.

After the kids were asleep, and it was just me and Woob in our quiet room, I pelted him with questions: Should I be worried about this? Does it matter if the other mommies are friends? Does it matter if I have no mommy friends in his class? Do you think I could have done something to irritate them already? And then again, does this really matter?

Like any good husband, he stared at me for a few minutes, hoping that I would answer at least some of those myself and take the heat off of him. And like any good wife, I started over-explaining my fears. I know that at some point it does matter. At some point his social standing may indeed be decided by his mama's buds even more so than his own. And I get that. I lived that myself. And I'm sure we'd see alot less of James if I didn't like Monika so much. On the flip side, as I laughingly told Moni the next day, even if the boys decided they didn't like eachother, we'd say tough tatas. But does it matter now?

(Its amazing when you have children how closely you have to examine every teeny decision that could have any impact on their future and who they might become...)

The consensus was that, no it doesn't really matter yet. A relief, I don't have to play nice just yet. And then Woob injected that it "wouldn't hurt to start being sweeter." After a long argument on the difference between "sweet" and "nice", it was still suggested that I try being a little nicer and perhaps a little more approachable. So I asked Woob a question I'm sure no husband wants to hear...

No, I did not ask him if I was "her" size.

I asked him to give three adjectives to describe me, and they didn't have to be nice one's. Brave, I know. He tossed out: Honest, Loyal and Bossy. I guess that last one caught a look because he ammended it to Organized. Ok, I agree. Even with the bossy. I know who I am, and mostly I'm pretty proud of all of it. Sure I still have days where I feel like my body is the enemy (as I'm sure anyone who has had two kids close understands), but my personality? Not so much. I have some sharp edges and I choose to embrace them rather than file them down. I am, probably above all things, honest. And often, that comes as incompatible with nice. And I am loyal, fiercely so, which can also butt up against nice. And Bossy? Yeah. Even if I'd asked him for 10, I don't think Nice would have been one. Possibly kind, or empathetic, considerate maybe, but not nice. And I'm ok with that. And I'm glad that at least for now I can just rest happy with my friends who are ok with that too. Maybe next year I'll try being the Nice mom. At least until the boys out me. Heh.

Divine Hammer

The summer before my sophomore year of high school, my friend Julie went away on a working church retreat and came back with a boyfriend. Over the remainder of the summer our friend groups merged and he and Julie became the center of our social world.

Jamie was funny and he was kind. Julie and I were still too young to drive, and he became our willing chauffeur in his white Blazer. He never complained about having to drive all the way from Vienna to Rockville to pick me up and then diving me all the way back when the fun was done. It's still odd looking back that I never felt like a third wheel, even when it was just he and Julie and I. At the time, most of us had experienced puppy-love, but this was the first time one of my friends had a REAL relationship. More profoundly, it was the first time I'd ever seen one of my friends be loved. He loved Julie in a way that was almost contagious and readily visible every time he looked at her. I was hopelessly jealous and I'm sure I wasn't the only one.

But we were only 15 - an age where nothing stays the same for long. I don't remember how or why or when they broke up, but I remembered wondering who was more heartsick over it - Jamie or myself. We spoke a few times after our worlds parted, and I'd be lying if I said that I didn't consider at least briefly what might happen if his interests turned on me. But I knew that I would have always been a distant second to what was likely his first real love. So the friendship faded away.

Julie called me two weeks ago to rehash her wedding and tell me all about her honeymoon. In the middle of the conversation, she told me that Jamie had just added her as a friend on Facebook. Still on the phone, I shot a friend add message to him chiding him for adding her and not me. Over the ensuing e-mail discussion we caught up on our relationships and careers and how kids did not mean you had to grow up. Trading barbs with him made me feel 15 all over again. We made plans to get together for drinks while I was in town over Christmas - with me promising to drag Julie and her new husband along. It was something I was really looking forward to.

But those drinks won't happen now. Jamie died in a single car accident near his home this weekend. I'm heartbroken for his fiancee. What a loss for all those lucky enough to know him.

Riding to the Dentist in Style

So I had to go to the dentist this morning. I'm there far too often. I feel like they just want to steal all my money by with threats that if I don't pursue the recommended "treatment", then I will lose all my teeth. So of course, I sign forms and give them my credit card and try to get excited about having antibiotic powder shot into my pockets so that it can calcify to my teeth and make my mouth healthier...

Anyway, the point is that my appointment was at 9:15, so Brooks took Fin to school (with Dash in tow) and I had to take his car. It's probably been a year since I got to drive his car and I had forgotten how much I LOOOOVE that car.

Don't get me wrong, I love my van. It's nice to think that I could fit tons of stuff in it if I had to - especially during fire evacuation season. And it's awesome on trips to be able to walk to the back and smack the kids for fighting see to the childrens needs. There's a good deal of comfort in knowing that I could fit a bunch of friends in it for a night out. You know, if I wanted to do that. But it's the opposites that make driving Brooks' car so much fun. It's a two seater. If you're sitting next to me, I must REALLY like you. There's fun in that. I'm sure in the future this will start wars between the boys - who get's to ride with Daddy? And it's fast. Really fast. It takes some time to get used to the sensitivity of the gas pedal that is capable of such speed. (Which means yes, I probably did look like an ass when I peeled out of our neighborhood this morning, but it totally wasn't on purpose!) I admit, I drove around a little extra and took my time getting to my appointment. And yes, I was a little sad that I had to trade keys when it was all over. But I'm trying to make this the silver lining as my babies grow up.

Only about 14 years until I can get my own.

For Dash at ONE!

My Dearest Baby Dash,

You're not so much a baby anymore I suppose! I am absolutely incapable of wrapping my mind around the fact that you are a year old. A YEAR?! It doesn't seem possible that this time last year I was staring at a ginormous belly and wondering if you were ever coming out...

For your birthday we had your little friends, Leila and Zach, James, Mommy's friends Mark and Joanna and their son James, Katie, Monika, Kindra, Elise, our neighbor Gladys and Dorothy and her sister Val (who are Mommy's friends from Highschool). We had all kinds of munchies and you had a blast playing with eveyone there. You even got some really neat presents :) We ordered cupcakes from a local bakery and they were wonderfully tasty! You weren't too sure about the "mess" factor and preferred to have everyone feed you bites. The party lasted into the evening and by the time the last guest left you were fast asleep in my lap (and Fin was asleep on Daddy's lap!)

We are getting ready to celebrate your second Halloween, but of course this will be the first one where you're more than a lump (you were an ADORABLE lump, but a lump none the less.) You and Fin are both going to be dressed as bumble bees and Daddy will be the bee keeper. Yes, Mommy is that cheesy. You and Fin love to sneak the costumes out and wear your antenna around the house. Next month we'll take you to Nashville for the first time for Thanksgiving and in December we'll be in DC for Christmas. It's amazing how often you've flown for such a little man!

Speaking of travelling, you are quite the crawling ninja. You move so fast that mommy sometimes loses you in the house. Lucky for me, you always answer when I call you so I can hunt you down fast. You're taking your first few tentative steps and standing well on your own. I know you could just take off walking but you have to build your confidence and believe it yourself. I have no doubt that one day soon you will do just that and there will be no stoping you. You talk constantly and I can tell you are desparate to communicate with Fin. You say Mama, Dada, GO, Up and a few other words appropriately and refer to Fin as "BAAA!" (said VERY loud). You can wave and your new favorite thing to do is to point to what you want or where you want to go. You have eight teeth (four top and four bottom) and you use them to eat ANYTHING IN SIGHT! You're still only a hair over 16lbs so I have no idea where you put it all. You're a whiz at feeding yourself anything you want - which is pretty much anything that isn't green. You've just ended your breastfeeding days and are now totally on whole milk. I'm a little proud to say that you never in your life had a bottle, but of course that didn't make things very easy on me :)

Our days are pretty busy with Fin going to school. Mondays and Wednesdays we walk in the mornings - usually with James and Monika - and play at home in the afternoons. Tuesdays and Thursdays Fin is in school till noon and we get a little time alone together. It's nice to have a little time to play with you and snuggle you a little. Fridays we usually have lunch with Katie and go on some kind of fun adventure. This past Monday I took you to My Gym for the first time. The Monday evening class is small and the children all around your age. You loved it just as much as Fin did the first time I took him. I think we're going to have to work that into our regular routine too - it's good for you to have your own friends as well as that mommy time.

Well, that's all for now my dear. I love you more than you can know and I hope you had a wonderful birthday!

Mom

I designed these invites and got them printed, but forgot to mail them, oops :)