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This could all change in 20 minutes so I’m going hurry along with this post before I have to change the title of the post to “and its all spiraling down in flames.’
The baby is taking a good nap (a rarity in these parts), the sun is shining, the big kids are playing peacefully with one another. I’m enjoying the sunshine with them in the yard blogging away while they play with their pop up house. It seems that Conor is currently a lost animal that Claire is pretending to look for. He constantly thwarts her by showing up where she pretends to be looking for him. Apparently Conor is not enough of a lost pet, she has filled a sack with her ‘friends’ (stuffed animals) and is announcing “Aunt Gloria, I’m here with all my lost friends.” This girl’s imagination cracks me up all the live long day (as long as it isn’t whined into reality). And I’ve learned there are lots of bugs where Aunt Gloria lives because Claire has just loaded me up with lotion for bug bites.
Conor is practicing his new vocabulary “wha happened?” He sounds a bit like Fred Willard when he’s talking. He’s a very polite little guy “fifi” (excuse me) is liberally dolled out during the day, anything from fifi I need to get by you, to fifi I tooted to fifi can you get me something to eat.
Its amazing how a reasonably ‘easy’ morning can erase all the previous day’s stress. Today the kids are sharing snacks, taking turns, everybody is going to the bathroom where they are supposed to be (it really is the little things in life). On a trip to Costco this morning to get gas Claire was insisting on “Jesus music” while Conor was asking for “Pooh! Pooh!” Claire proposes we take turns on the music (what a great idea!)
This peaceful pause punctuated by various antics from mainly Conor but Claire as well. Conor clad in a diaper and shirt crawling into the full of water baby bathtub. Conor, again clad only in a diaper, trying on mom’s shoes. Claire channeling her inner journalist and interviewing Conor for PBS kids (her words, not mine). They used her vet kit’s otoscope as a makeshift microscope.
I’ve been asked lately to dish on life with three kids, this by friends who a. think I’m crazy, b. are considering three, or c. are just curious. You asked, here it is.
Example 1
I’ve just laid Kieran down for his afternoon nap, I’m cleaning up lunch for the big kids and having them get ready for their naps when I hear chatting coming across the baby monitor – Kieran, obviously is far too young for chatting. “Baby, Baby, Baby.” Its Conor, in Kieran’s bedroom (the closet) sitting on the chair by the pack n play poking his cheek and talking to him.
Example 2
The other morning GiGi was over. She’s on my bed folding laundry, I’m feeding the baby and we’re watching the big kids play in the yard. Conor starts trodding on Claire’s homemade ‘garden’ and when she protests he hauls off and whacks her on the head with a plastic rake, as I’m feeding the baby, GiGi rushes outside to address the issue. As she passes me, Kieran poops and its a total blowout. Through his onesie, through his sleeper and onto my pants. Lovely and such a convenient time.
Example 3
I’m making breakfast, Kieran is chilling on a blanket on the floor. Claire is watching Mickey Mouse clubhouse. Conor is hanging off my leg demanding food. When Conor gets rebuffed from me, he starts taking it out on Kieran by playing the Conor version of whack a mole, whack a baby with my foot. As I intervene with the boys a voice (Claire’s) shouts from the bathroom “Mom, I have a surprise in my bottom, I need your help.” (I think I will throw a party the day she gets the poop thing under control).
Example 4
Its naptime. Kieran’s been down for an hour. The big kids and I read a story, Conor is out almost instantly. I finish the story, wish Claire a restful nap time and make my exit. As I leave their room I hear the baby crying and I go see if I can soothe him- turns out baby is hungry. As I start to feed baby I hear singing from the kids’ room. Nursing baby in arms, I go to the kids’ room and find Claire at Conor’s crib singing and poking him (really? come on). Claire is returned to her bed, Kieran is satisfied and I sit down to do my paid work. Cue Conor crying…
At the date of this post, Claire is 3 1/2, Conor is 22 months and Kieran is 3 1/2 months old. I’m beginning to see why others have told me this first year will go by in a fog. Days are dictated by meal and naptimes and punctuated by playdates and the occasional extracurricular activity (soccer, swim lessons). There are days that I’ve talked to my husband or mom or mother in law and raised the white flag. Where I’ve uttered the words, I love them but I sure do not like them right now (usually in response to tantrums, sassyness, or a refusal to nap). As I write this I would say we are definitely in a familial trough. Josh and I are overtired and the kids are antsy because we’ve been under self imposed house arrest while we get Kieran’s sleep regulated.
This week my metaphor has been I’m in a row boat in the middle of the ocean and there is no rescue. As we try to be good stewards of these little gifts we’ve been given, Josh and I are brought to the daunting reality of the task we have been assigned. There is no slacking off. We are charged with raising these three beautiful children to bring God glory. So even though its the 17th time Conor has shoved Claire or the 23rd time Claire has been mouthy or the 4th time Conor tried to step on Kieran, I need to follow through, stand up for the helpless, guide the offenders, teach love and forgiveness at every turn. From this job there is no vacation. I’m tired and weary. There are days I haven’t brushed my hair or teeth until well after 2pm. Days that I am not out of my pajamas until after noon – that’s more a lack of planning on my part. My clothes reside in the closet which is also Kieran’s bedroom. Sometimes the need to get dressed does not supersede the need for Kieran to sleep.
Of course I wouldn’t trade it but I wouldn’t mind a mini vacation. There are lots of moments when the kids are holding hands, kissing their brother, using my bra as a lunchbox???(that was Claire) that make me laugh and further endear them. Their imaginative play together is creative, thoughtful and loving most of the time. I do not lose sight of the highs when we are in a trough though sometimes it takes a lot of willpower to hang on to those ‘high’ moments. Its crazy, its good, its hard, we can go through the whole range of emotions in 15 minutes. No trip to the grocery store is just a ‘quick trip’ simply by the number of buckles on car seats. Even my own trips to the restroom or shower feel at times like a parade – though Conor did warm my heart the other day waiting for me to get out of the shower and handing me my robe (he’s not even 2! he is a sweetheart).
Please don’t misunderstand, I love my kids. I love my husband. I love my life. I am very thankful for our many blessings AND its hard, trying, tiring and that’s ok. That’s life with 3.
Though we spent much of January and early February battling a nasty cold, we are gaining our groove as a family of five. Surprisingly to me, the week preceding Kieran’s arrival were more difficult for me than just about any day we’ve had since then. I don’t do well with the waiting game and awaiting his arrival definitely falls into that category.
this picture, completely set up by my children, they love holding the baby, in fact, I have to regulate so Kieran doesn’t end up being pass the potato.
Claire and Conor continue to be enamored and loving towards Kieran. They each have their own ways of coping with their transition. Conor hauls off and whaps Kieran from time to time though it doesn’t seem to be malicious. He is also a trifle more mommyish and loves to share my lap with Kieran. On some occasions all three like to share my lap, giving me good reason not to lose my babyweight (thereby decreasing my lap size). Claire fares a bit better, I’m guessing having been through this song and dance before. She does at times resort to baby talk (e.g. Daddy becomes DA…DA…) and temporary bouts of helplessness.
Before Kieran arrived I had a short list of things I anticipated I would not be able to do with all three in tow simply by logistics. I am pleased to report that we have attempted several things on that list and had a successful outcome, not to mention a good time. We’ve braved Target, Trader Joes, Raleys, the park, playdates, walks around town, and the beginning of the kids’ swim lessons.
the kids playing Marine hospital (Claire’s words, not mine). Dr. Claire and her assistant Nurse Conor.
Our mornings can be a little chaotic. I’ve learned to do multitasking that I never thought I would be doing like nursing the baby and pulling Conor’s foot out of the toilet or nursing the baby and taking Conor off the kitchen table, or nursing and chasing after Conor who has run outside at 7am in his pjs…notice a theme? Things seem to go haywire while I am feeding the baby.
In another development, Claire has turned the corner in potty training. I had stopped posting about our journey because the three of us were discouraged and there was not anything going on. Josh and I had backed off but it still did not seem to be important to Claire. So we allowed the whole thing to be Claire directed, if she wanted to wear a pullup, she wore a pullup, if she wanted to wear undies she wore undies. So it has been for months with no noticeable improvement and all of us sad at the issue it had become. Then one day we decided to drop the option (once again of pull ups except for nap and night. That day Claire asked to wear undies at naptime and we have not looked back since. We have an occasional accident but that is all. Its like the experts say. It will click with them one day and for Claire it did with a lot of prayer and some time.
And so it goes. Each day we get our groove and off we go!
As in the Smith family Wild Animal Park not the San Diego Wild Animal Park, unfortunately. These days if you dare to call the house you’re likely to hear a passing “elephant”, “horse”, “duck” or “dog.” Daily our home seems to grow in its resemblance to an enclosure for wild animals. I’m sure that I’m not the only mom encountering this situation, nevertheless, I am amazed daily at the goings on of my two little animals.
Conor is a wild animal, er..um..man. He climbs everything these days – the toilet to the sink, the kiddie table, the coffee table, the side of the couch. For the surfaces that prove out of reach or too challenging, he employs the use of furniture – step stool, kiddie chair and as of late, the kitchen table chairs. Little man has figured out how to use his strength to maneuver those chairs to aid him in conquering the kitchen table and the counter. He’s become so quick at it too. Josh and I certainly do not want to discourage unruly or unsafe behavior, nor do I want to be a mom who let’s my kids just run all over the furniture BUT man, its difficult to keep him from climbing and he still so young (16 months) that disciplining him seems limited in its effectiveness. Claire for her part is content to chase her brother around and giggle. There is the occasional tackle but for the most part, she just runs around and plays peek a boo with him.
We had rain at the beginning of the month (for not even a day). The kids, particularly Conor, were like caged animals. This kid does not like being penned in. Nursery at church? He’s fine until you shut the dutch door – he doesn’t seem to like the knowledge that he’s enclosed. I am in a bit of a panic thinking about the coming winter. What to do with my two little animals when baby #3 comes and we aren’t quite as mobile and its cold and dreary outside? Of course we’ll think of something but I’m very curious to see how it will all turn out.
Josh and I feel like the past week has swallowed us up. While our challenges have not been extraordinary nor tragic (thank the Lord) our plate has been full and we are happy to say farewell to these past seven days.
Last Friday Conor under went a small procedure to have his tongue tied-ness fixed. The procedure was short (like 20 minutes) and the time away from him was almost nil (he was out of our sight for 1/2 an hour), we were glad to have it done with. Our morning began at 5:20 when the alarm went off. By 6:15 we were walking through the hospital doors and registering the little man for “surgery.” Keeping this active, busy little guy contained in pre op was no small feat especially when the nurses attempted to get his vitals. Getting the hospital bracelet on was challenge in and of it self. In the end, they had to wait til the versedt (sp?) kicked in to his vitals. I hated to see him all doped up because he was so not himself and yes, as they wheeled him away in the baby crib I teared up. We were reunited only (thank goodness) a half hour later and could hear him howling up a storm as we came down the hall. He was proving to be quite a challenge patient for the nurse trying to hold onto him but mom’s arms and a Popsicle from the nurse went a long way to soothe him. As we were discharged they warned us he would be sleepy today and just let him take things at his pace. Once we got home however, little man was up to his same old tricks and seemingly unphased by the ordeal he had just gone through. (kids are so resilient). He was inside, outside, on the couch, off the couch, bouncing around, dancing, climbing up the side of the couch…so much for drowsy little guy.
Because Conor was doing so well, we decided to keep with our family tradition on Saturday morning of a walk followed by coffee and cookies at the local bakery. Sometime during the course of the morning, Claire developed a cough and by the time we got to the car she was complaining of a stomachache. We were no sooner in the door than BOOM, she threw up. All…over…the…place. So, Saturday and Sunday were spent nursing our little girl (her first time throwing up was a bit traumatic for her) and doing laundry. Have I mentioned lately how I love my washing machine? By Sunday night we thought Claire was better but this was not so. Monday morning she started having problems out the other end – we’ll just leave that be. Monday night Josh coughed all night long and Conor threw up. So Josh decided to stay home Tuesday help with the kids and kick whatever but he had. Tuesday was actually an ok day. The kids seemed to be feeling ok. Josh was resting a bit. We decided to go for a drive before the rain came and just get out of the house a little bit. Then things got hairy. 4:30 I got slammed with the bug and went to bed. Sometime in the middle of the night I had all the previously outlined stomach bug issues. By Wednesday morning the only thing I could keep down were sips of water and later gatorade. I didn’t really move from the bed until 2:30 or 3 on Wednesday when Josh started to complain of stomach issues. Being sick as a kid is a drag, being sick as a parent just sucks. I started answering the phone “house of horrors.” So whether or not I felt like it, I was now on duty because Josh was down for the count. We somehow managed to get the kids to bed and clean up the kitchen. I changed the sheets and was looking forward to drifting off to sleep (in between Josh’s bouts to the bathroom) when we hear Conor crying. He’s puked…again and is inconsolable. So, he lays in bed with us for a bit and then we put him in a clean, fresh bed. As Josh tapered off, Conor ramped up and this morning we got him up and he and the bed were covered in, well, we won’t go into that.
Josh went off to work today. I’ve been able to eat some foods. Claire is great (a little squirrelly, can you blame her?). Conor seems to be on the road to recovery. I’m going up and down and all around with disinfecting wipes, windows open to air this sick house out, kids bundled up against the cool breeze blowing in. Let’s get on with this week.
What do you do when the parents are sick and the kids are ok? Or everybody is sick? What can you do? Any nannies out there like to work around sick people? I mean, a cold is one thing but taking care of a household when you have the stomach flu…well, i would appreciate any tips.
Every baby is different, every child is different. I’ve heard this over and over and now I say it to myself as I reflect on Claire’s babyhood versus Conor. I consider myself pretty laid back about the whole parenting thing (for most things) but I do declare THIS child is going to give me a heart attack.
At seven and a half months Conor adores anything that crinkles, paper, plastic bags – mostly things that aren’t toys. Toys that crinkle are uninteresting to him. He lunges at plastic bags, milk cartons, the mail and can pluck them from your hand before you’ve blinked. He’s fallen off the couch twice in the last two weeks with me sitting next to him. One minute he’s next to me, the next minute he’s catapulted himself off the couch and is howling on the floor. Conor has pulled himself to standing, this accomplished by sitting next to Claire’s bedrail and pulling up. Little man isn’t even sleeping in his crib at night (still in the pack n play in the closet) and we’re already going to have to bump the crib down. I shake my head, boys…
This past week we discovered little man awake from his nap resting on all fours. He’s begun to take that posture more and more. Crawling is around the corner. This will be something new for us as Claire only crawled for about three weeks before she started walking and this just before her 1st birthday.
Conor has a tooth poking through and far be it for me to compare, it could be a boy/girl thing it could be a Claire/Conor thing but he has not weathered teething as peacefully has Claire does. No criticism here, I have space for each child to be his/her own person, its just interesting.
Little man loves to eat. Protect your utensils when he’s around, he’ll grab them all. To pacify him during dinner if he’s already eaten, we let him gnaw on a hunk of bread.
Conor enjoys watching his sister, pulling hair, eating, and being held.
Today was another one of those days where if feels like the world is conspiring against you. Nothing dramatic or abismal just a few little hiccups to keep me humble and remind me I’m not in control.
Claire and I were putting together Mickey Mouse valentines when Lola alerted us that Conor was awake. I retrieved Conor from the closet changed his diaper, fed him and just as he was finishing up Claire cried out “mommy potty! potty on my jammies.” Her diaper had given way dripping her beloved panda jammies. Claire danced around the room agitated and whimpering (I am so ready to tackle this potty training thing again) and as I lifted Conor to set him down and assist Claire Conor let a juicy belch go that was immediately followed by projectile spit up. He and I were now covered in sour milk spit up. I do mean covered. I paused a moment to survey the damage and decide which problem to tackle first when the phone rang. Josh. He has impeccable timing. Why do these things always happen simultaneously?
I’m learning in mom-dom these sorts of things are run of the mill but they still baffle me each time they occur.
Then tonight, as if to top off the day and make sure that I’m not just humble in my mom-ness, the fuse blew in the kitchen while I was attempting artichokes. I love artichokes but I rarely make them because I can never get it right and then end up rubbery and inedible each time. Tonight I conferred with my mom about the perfect artichoke and I felt equipped to make it happen. Microwave programmed, artichoke prepped. The house we happen to occupy to these days is fussy about its electricity. If we have the space heater running in Conor’s closet and it clicks on while the microwave is running POOF. That’s just what happened tonight. Goodbye perfect artichoke. And just to punctuate the whole thing as I was working on said artichoke and also putting away dishes on the dish rack my wooden spoon falls to the floor and a great big chunk falls out. Nice.
I am too tired tonight to string many sentences together. Claire continues to be challenged in her bedtime routine. She has expressed fear of the dark and having her door closed (more on those things in another post). Conor has made the move from our room to our closet. We felt like he’d sleep less disturbed there especially with Claire’s troubles of late. Conor for the second time this week has spontaneously thrown up everything he just ate soaking me, him, our sheets, pillows, etc resulting in a middle of the night sheet/pajama change for all.
I have treasured the words of a friend of ours (who was paraphrasing the Bible), the Lord gives you strength for the day. There are days in the recent weeks where I feel like I’ve said that every five minutes but I know its true. Enjoy the photos, more to come as well as catching up on the progress we’ve made. Oh and in very exciting news, Conor rolled over today! Good job little man!
Claire and her buddy Davis.
Conor hanging out at Uncle Richard and Aunt Christine’s house with Aunt Cynthia (my Seattle college mom).
This is how Claire went to bed tonight. She insisted. My sweet, funny, challenging girl.
The Birds
Shortly after we waved good bye to Josh’s parents I heard a sharp TWEET TWEET coming from the back of the house (that’s not saying much our place is a cozy two bedroom but still). Claire and Conor were on the couch and I headed toward the noise to check it out. It was a bird, a decent sized bird! In Claire’s room. It must have come in through our slider which was open just enough for Lola to come and go and then the bird must have headed into Claire’s room for whatever reason. Now despite my dislike of these feathered creatures and perhaps a little bit of Alfred Hitchcock going through my head I have tackled a task like this before. Shortly after we moved in a bird (could be the same one) attempted to make our living room its home. This time however with Claire around I didn’t want to freak her out. So, Josh was at work, what was I to do? I called my dad in the off chance he was working from home. Poor dad, he was. I didn’t even greet him on the phone but said “Oh, thank God you’re home today.” He came down with a box, a towel and what I think was part of a pool skimmer. BUT the bird was nowhere to be found, apparently he found his way back out (I hope) and all he left behind was a feather. (At least I know I’m not crazy).
Another Poop Story
The kids and I took a walk Wednesday morning. I’ve been working with Claire at home on the potty training thing. We pretty much go diaper free at home except for naps and night. What that means is we talk a lot about bodily functions. So on our walk (after the screaming tantrum initiated because we were out of milk subsided) she proudly annouced that she was pooping. Ok, lovely. Not three minutes later Conor’s intestinal track fires up, great. Rarely do poops while sitting in his carseat remain within the confines of the diaper. So, quickstep back to the car. Claire goes first because Conor is momentarily happy and Claire keeps talking about the poop in her diaper. We change diapers in the trunk because it is easiest. Claire chatters on to herself and is happy to play in the car while I change Conor. Ok, I get Conor out of his seat and WOAH NELLY! Blowout central. Of course it gets on my sweatshirt while i’m trying to get him out of his jumper and do I have something else to put little man in? Nope…I always have an extra outfit except when I need it. Claire begins to get impatient and starts shouting at me from the car. After I explain the situation all she can do is chant “Conor, BIG POOPS!” over and over. I wrap up the carseat pad and soiled jumper in a sacrifice blanket and thank goodness for doggy bags, nab two of Lola’s bags for each of the kids diapers. Phew…Since that time, anytime I change Conor’s diaper Claire insists on tagging along to inspect whether or not its a “BIG POOPS.”
BURNNo, not my kids, thank God!
Last Saturday night was horrific, both kids were up multiple times for hours on end. Josh and I woke up feeling like we’d been run over by a steamroller mutliple times. Josh was gracious enough to give me an hour at the gym to rejuvenate. After that time I picked up a Peet’s latte at Raleys before heading home. Well, the girl at the counter was sharing with me the benefits of Coconut water (I must have looked really REALLY bad) when I took a sip of my latte (lid not on well) and it spilled all over my front and burned my stomach. Like BURNED my stomach. Reason 217 to lose more weight, get rid of that tummy so it won’t stick out and be subject to burns from my coffee addiction. Thank goodness for aloe.
Its just another day with the Smiths, at the very least we are entertaining.
If I thought the beginning of the week was challenging, phew…the rest of the week has gone…well, NOT according to plan.
Josh and I are completely perplexed at Claire’s sudden anxiety about being in her own room. Tuesday night she screamed from 7:30-9pm and would not stay in bed, kept begging for us to stay with her, sing to her, read to her, pray for her. Then at 4:00 a.m. she burst into our room, climbed into bed and started ordering us around. “Mommy, pee youuuuu! Smell my feet.” “daddy, shower!” Josh got her to go back to bed (not without protest) until 5:15/5:30 ish. Despite the lack of sleep, she was a lovely person on her birthday.
Wednesday night we had a lovely evening (except for the part where Josh’s truck broke down). Josh ended up skipping class and joining us for Claire’s pizza birthday dinner and a walk around the neighborhood. She went down for bed more like normal. Josh and I went to bed and were relishing the blissful evening we had…it felt like I had just gone to sleep and BAM…Claire bursts out of her room crying and carrying on. Josh put her back to bed only for her to get up again. We took turns (attempting to channel super nanny) putting her back to bed. When it became clear she was set on not staying in her bed or her room (and after she woke up Conor) up went the baby gate. It broke our hearts to listen to her cries/screams from the next room but we felt we needed to draw a line. We were settling in bed (had just got Conor back to sleep) when we hear crash, bang, and boom. She pulled over her little kitchen, knocked over her picture frame and busted down the baby gate…so much for the baby gate. **sigh*** By 1am Josh convinced her that she needed to stay in her own room. I think we were both asleep again by 2am. 4:30am…Claire is up again. Josh got her back to bed but she was up again by 6am….6 I can deal with, 4:30 I cannot.
Thursday night, she goes down for sleep ok. We brought out my night light from when I was a kid. We tell Claire its an Angel night light, Angels live in heaven with Jesus. So she calls it her Jesus light. But like clockwork, the bell tolls 11:30 p.m. and Claire starts up again. Fortunately it only takes about 40 minutes of leading her back to bed to get her to stay there. 6:08 a.m. there is her bright and shining face.
Its 9:09 on Friday night and I am praying that whatever is tormenting her leaves her at peace tonight but who knows. My poor baby!
In other news, enjoy some photos of the kids this past week. While troubled at night, Claire has become more and more in touch with her goofy side during the day.
trying on Josh’s shirt.
little sibling love
Coloring “together”
Our little outside man, this little guys LOVES being outside. He’s completely content in his bouncer for a good half our if he’s outside, not so anywhere else.
Go GIANTS!
hanging out with Dad.
blowing bubbles
Somebody is looking like his dad!
Hanging with Meme and Pop Pop on a beautiful birthday evening! I think this was just before Claire and Meme went running through the sprinklers.
A happy little boy in his bumbo.
