Thank Heaven for Little ... Sisters

Paige had her tonsils and adenoids removed yesterday morning, and to say these past 24 hours have been a roller coaster would be an understatement. (It was a necessary evil, though. According to the ENT, her tonsils were touching in the back of her throat and her adenoids were blocking 80% of her airway.)

Yesterday morning was pretty low-key, until all the anesthesia wore off. Yesterday evening was - well, not so low key. Paige was a mess. However, the night was pretty good - we really only heard from her when we woke her to give her her pain medication. For the first time since the day she turned one (trust me, you remember things like this), Paige slept until 7:00 am. No, PAST 7:00 am - I finally heard from her at 8:15!

Things seemed to get off to a great start because my mom came over with Starbucks Paige woke up in a great mood and ready to eat. She was sitting on the couch, and (as usual) Blair was sitting on the floor staring at her with admiration. Paige took a tiny bite of bread (not toast, not a bagel - just a plain slice of bread). She chewed for a minute. Then leaned forward and proceeded to puke all over Blair. Not on the couch, really. Not so much on the floor. Pretty much just right on her sister's face and clothes. Blair, being a hardened little sister already, looked around, smiled and crawled away.

Thank heaven the roles weren't reversed - Paige would STILL be falling apart over it all. Thank heaven my mom was here, because I pretty much just stared in shock at what was happening. Thank heaven the only reaction I could think to have was to laugh about it all. And thank heaven for little sisters - especially ones with personalities like Blair.

(PS - Paige, I'm putting this in writing so that your sister can use this against you someday.)

It's a Girl!

We have exciting news in the Feldmann household! There will be a new baby joining the family, and it's going to be a girl!

We're not sure of the exact due date - we actually thought it was going to be at 6:30 last night, but it was a false alarm. Her name is going to be Puddin', and the part Derrick and I are most excited about is that Paige is going to have the baby sleep in her bedroom. Which makes sense, since she's the one with the baby in her belly:

She is going to feed the baby (milk from her breasts - her words, not mine). She lets me talk to Puddin' through her belly button (apparently it tickles Puddin's ears when I talk to her). She keeps telling her daddy and I that the baby is coming soon, and at dinner last night (at 6:15) she told us that the baby was coming at "six thirty o'clock." Alas, Puddin' did not show. Now when we ask for specifics she's a little vague. So, I guess we'll just keep waiting! (And, no, we have NO idea what prompted this. The grown-ups in this house are not expecting any babies).

Craft or Crap?

Paige, much like most other toddlers I know, often has trouble pronouncing certain words. This problem seems exacerbated by the fact that she no longer has one of her front teeth (the dainty little girl knocked it out after taking a header into a chair ... while running through the house ... and she continues to run ... constantly. But, I digress).

So, as many of you know, this problem became publicly known last month. Paige and I were headed to Target to buy her some bribes activities for the plane ride. I told her on the way that we were going to pick out some crafts for her to do. As soon as we walked through the door, I realized we were in trouble. It was a packed Saturday afternoon, and Paige immediately started asking me when we were going to get her "crap for the plane."

"Mommy, is this my crap for the plane?"
"Mommy, what aisle can we find my crap for the plane?"
"Mommy, can I get THIS crap for the plane?"

Now, if you know Paige, you know that her inside voice is the same as her outside voice. The other moms were snickering and smiling, the other kids were laughing outright, and the old ladies were giving me dirty looks. So, to try to remedy the problem, I gently explained to Paige that the word is "craFT." The conversation went a lot like this:

M: "Repeat after me, baby: craFFFFFFt"
P: "craPPPPPP"
M: "No, craFFFFFt. Hear the FFFFF sound?"
P: "Right, Mommy. CraPPPPP. My crap for the plane."
M: "No, honey. CraFFFFFFFt."
P: "Mommy, that is what I said. Now, stop it. Where is my crap for the airplane ride?"

So, I threw in the towel.

And I thought the issue was over (and so was the judging by others who obviously think I teach my daughter that anything she makes is crap).

Then I picked her up from school today. She ran towards me at the door of her classroom and excitedly yelled "Mommy, wait until you see the crap I made you! Two craps today!!" Then we walked into the hallway so she could show her friends and their mommy. "Kelly! Audrey! Lu! Look at the crap I made my mommy today!" Kelly (the mommy) smiled knowingly and replied "Yes, Paige, I love your crap." I'm sure the other moms were not so open-minded.

But then again, what do I care? Paige, please know that I love each and every crap you do ... even if it's crafty.

A Fit of Epic Proportions

Let me start by saying that Derrick and I realize our children do not truly hate us. However, there are many days where if we were forced to judge their feelings by actions alone, we're fairly certain they are interviewing new families on the sly.

Take, for example, today. It started off as any other day - no, wait. That's not right. It started off at 6:30 am with Paige SCREAMING for me from her bed, and quickly progressed to Blair hollering from her crib. Which segued into a crying match in my bed after Blair (accidentally...I hope) hit Paige in the face.

Things settled a bit while Blair napped and I exercised some stellar parenting skills by plopping Paige down on the couch with Derrick's iPad (it's at home today because she literally bullied him into leaving it here). Then, it was time to leave for swimming lessons.

Now, the high today is 84 degrees. I thought Paige might want to wear some flip-flops with her dress. We haven't had GREAT luck with them in the past, but hey - that was a year ago, right? Needless to say, Paige ended up on the front porch SCREAMING that she "could not walk in these shoes!" I ended up yelling at Paige to NOT yell at me (effective, no?). Then I tossed her into the van without shoes at all, and Miss Paige ended up traveling barefoot for the rest of the day. The poor flip-flops ended up looking like a casualty of war (and have already been promised to a flip-flop-loving friend).

Post-lunch was no better - in fact, it all went downhill from 6:30 am. The screaming was epic. The whining was monumental. The silence after they both fell asleep was ... fleeting. Paige woke soon after falling asleep, and assumed the facial expression of the day:

Now, it is only 4:15 pm. Derrick has a dinner meeting. I am counting down the minutes until it is culturally acceptable to pour myself a bottle glass of wine (um, right after I finish this post). And I'm already planning on an early bedtime tonight.

At least we know tomorrow has GOT to be better. Happy freaking first day of spring, Mommy.

Big Girl Bed

After months of wavering (and light-hearted mocking from my other mom friends), we finally decided it was time to move Paige into a big girl bed. I was worried (very unlike me, I know). She is on the ground floor of our house and I had visions of her climbing out of bed and driving our minivan walking around the house in the early hours of the morning.

Then we moved her. And she never looked back.

Knock on wood, she stays in her bed until we come in to get her. She tells me each and every time I put her into bed how much she LOVES her big girl bed. She even went so far as to say "I so, so lucky to have this bed, Mommy." So, huh ... perhaps it might have been my overprotective mothering that prevented this rite of passage for my toddler? Nah - I'm sure she just wasn't ready.

Now, as for Blair (poor baby #2), we'll just let her sleep wherever she passes out.

Best friends indeed

The girls and I just spent 10 days in Florida together with their Nani and Bostie, and it was so fun to watch how quickly they are starting to enjoy being with each other.

Paige calls Blair "Bear" and when she talks to her she usually starts her sentences with "Oh, sweetheart...". Blair is constantly looking for Paige, and when we walk to the door of her room to get her up from her naps, Blair starts smiling and kicking before I've even opened the door.

Having grown up with three brothers, the relationship between sisters is completely new to me. I never realized how much sisters can fight (as my three nieces have so gladly shown me), but I also never knew just how quickly the bond of friend, confidant and soulmate is formed.

I captured this picture just as I was backing out to drive the three of us to the airport (obviously, the car was still in park). It melts my heart to look at it, even though I'm pretty sure this was a handshake to confirm the plot to make our flight home horrible, with Blair taking one for the team and acting as some sort of pterodactyl-torturer for those in Business Class for the entire duration of the flight home. Either way, the bond is sealed...

Inaugural Post

Well, this is my first foray into blogging, and at this point I'm not sure if anyone will enjoy hearing about my kids and life quite as much as I enjoy talking about them!

The girls and I have been on vacation in Florida for the past 10 days, and it's been the best of times ... and, well, not the worst of times, but definitely not the best. The girls have both been practicing their screaming skills, Paige has let me know how mean I am to her (I mean, I make her do things like use the potty AND put her shoes on before we leave - horrible!), and they both have decided that napping and sleeping at night are optional while on vacay.

However, Blair has realized she loves the pool and squeals with delight while we're there, Paige has taken to climbing into bed to snuggle with me first thing in the morning, and both girls crawl around the condo "chasing" each other while laughing at the top of their lungs.

So, all in all, I've decided I'll take the not-so-best of times because the best of times SO outweigh them. All it takes to erase a rough day of whining and sassing is - well - things like this:

(You'll notice that poor Blair only has a spoon with a little ice cream, and an empty bowl. Isn't Paige a good sharer? 

She gave these things to Blair and said "Here you go, sweetie")