Promises, Promises

I've taken up lying to my kid. I know, I know - you are all judging me right now. And I'm ok with that. Since "Pooky Pooky"'s arrival (yes, she calls him "Pooky Pooky," assumingly taken from the nickname I've given him of Lukey Pooky), Aryn has stopped listening. It's like the birth of her brother also birthed a huge mass in her eardrums and caused her to become deaf - but only when we ask her to do things, like "wash your hands" or "please come here." Yet, when you're 2 floors above her and whisper in a closed room the word "popsicle", she can hear that like she's sitting right next to you.

So why have I taken up lying? Because it gets things done. I don't actually follow through with the promise, which makes it lying. "Aryn, pee before your nap and I'll give you a piece of chocolate." "Ok, mommy." Yet no chocolate ever comes. We don't even have chocolate. "Aryn, if you eat the rest of your supper you can have a popsicle." Ok, she usually gets her after-supper popsicle, but in our defence, it's a fight to get her to eat her supper lately. I'm ok with the lies. It keeps us from a fight with a very stubborn toddler and makes whatever situation we're in go much more smoothly. Judge me all you want, but having a happy toddler let me put her sweater on rather than fighting with her while she plays dead on the floor is a much better situation.

Anyone else's kids play dead? They let their whole body go limp and they lay on the floor? It sure causes my 45-pound 2.5 year old feel like she weighs 100 pounds. And when Lukey Pooky is crying, it makes my blood pressure rise to unhealthy levels. Being a mom is stressful!

She's also taken to repeating the same thing over and over and over again. For instance, "I want a freezee mommy. I want a freezie mommy. I want a freezie mommy. I want a freezie mommy. I want a freezie mommy." Until finally, we yell out "STOP SAYING THAT!" and we usually end up givig her a freezie to make her quiet down. That's great parenting right there - give in to your kids annoyingness with what she wants. We rock.

She also never stops talking. I mean that. Seriously. She never stops talking. Ever. You know that game your parents tried to get you to play with "who can stay quiet the longest?" Aryn loses. Every time. You find yourself becoming *that* parent by saying things like, "Please stop talking for 5 seconds!" and "I'll give you a piece of chocolate if you stop talking!"

See? More lies.

She still says "dump truck" every day and ever day, we laugh. There's just something about a 2 year old saying "Dumb F@ck" that makes you giggle. I'll admit it. Again, amazing parents.

In my defence, and in the defence of all new parents out there, I've become a narcoleptic. And 3 minutes of quiet while she sucks on that freezie gives me 3 minutes of sleep. Regardless of what Lucas is doing - nursing, awake, sleeping - I close my eyes and BAM - I'm asleep. It's been awesome.

In all honestly, things have been great. Aryn has really been doing wonderful with her baby brother, and I think we've figured out her 5:30 wakeups. We've turned into "those" white trash people and put duct taped cardboard in her window to keep her room black as night in the morning. That only took us 2.5 years to figure out. Great job, us! Yet more proof we're great parents.

Please, no one call child services.

Lucas likes to sleep during the day, and get into his deep sleep at about 3pm until 3am. No matter what I do to try to keep him awake, he prefers to sleep during that time. Cold cloth, foot scratches, baths, whatever doesn't really seem to work. He wakes up, but not for very long. Then 3:30am comes along and he's wide awake for the longest part of the day. And he's not happy about it, and I'm not happy about it, and we both cry. I'll admit it - I've cried. When it's 4:30am and you've already been awake for an hour and your infant is pissed off about something, you just cry. And that's ok. As long as the tears stop, and they do - for both of us.

My friend Cathy truly believes there's a way for zombies to actually happen. I now agree - just, instead of coming to life from the dead and coming to eat peoples brains, it's new mothers walking around after nights of no sleep and just trying to find a quiet bed to lay down in. That makes the Walking Dead a little less scary, don't you think?

I am loving learning about this new little man in my life. He frets. No real reason behind it; he just seems like he's fretting for some reason or another. His eyebrows have stress lines on them when he's not fretting and it makes me smile. He has a perfectly shaped head, and has a beautiful little face. He has wonderful blonde hair and I wonder what he's going to look like when he's older. 

And people say "enjoy them while they're young because it goes so fast." I know it does - I have a 2 year old. So we're enjoying him. He's most likely the last infant in our house, and I'm soaking him in. And it's ok to be excited for the more independent time in the first year - when you can lay them on the floor and they'll giggle and squeal at the lamest of toys. But until then, I'll cuddle this little guy, pray against colic, and hope he is a great sleeper like his sister (minus the early-morning wake-ups, please!). 

Let me just put my head down for a second.... Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz............