Skinny Minny

"You have to eat," Da tells Animalia, "because you're a skinny minny."
"I'm NOT A SKINNY MINNY!" she says, clearly angry. "LOOK AT THE SIZE OF THESE THIGHS!"
She points to her thighs. They're skinny. "Mom, do I have big thighs like my sister?"
"Yes," I tell her, trying to comfort her rage. "Your thighs are enormous."
I'm lying.

Anxiety

Teeny has major separation anxiety. She has major crying fits, big tears and all, when I'm not with her. I don't even have to be holding her. As long as she can see me and maybe reach me with her big toe, she's fine, happy, relaxed.

These crying fits are a major source of anxiety for everyone but me. Her poor dad... poor nana... eh, I don't think it bothers tata as much. When she's into a fit, there's almost nothing that can distract her for more than a breath, although being taken outside seems to help some.

It makes it that much harder to leave her, knowing that she's torturing people who love her.

Back to work

Starting today. Back to work. Part time for a month at least, otherwise it'd be too painful for words. It's already painful enough as it is.

Madi is now Magdalena Luna Lunera Cascabelera Cinco Pollitos, according to her big sister. What a nickname, no? This one is definitely harder to leave than her sister was. She's grown so much but is much more attached than her sister was, even at the tender age of 10 weeks. She needs me more for some reason and I say that knowing the absurdity of a 10 week old not needing mama, but Animalia was just less like that. Does that make sense?

Madi's 2 month checkup:
First vaccines (she cried and then fell asleep but was cranky for 2 days after), weight: 12lbs (catching up!), length: 22.75 inches (shorty!).

Everything else:
Getting used to getting ready in the morning is going to be rough. Dropping off Animalia at school and leaving Madi with Nana and Tata is going to be rough. Pumping during my breaks is going to be rough. It's all going to be rough. I'm exhausted already and it's only 9:30am and I've only done this once so far. Low grade panic setting in... breathe.... breathe.

I'm being punished...

For some terrible thing I did. Or maybe Animalia is considerately preparing me for the sleepless nights coming after The New Baby is born.

Last night, she fell asleep at 8pm, woke up around 1am, thrashed around in my bed for awhile, then at 2am decides she needs to go potty after which I drag her back to bed where she kicks and rolls around and puts various parts of her body on top of me. I think she fell back asleep around 3am but I'm not sure as I was asleep at some point. At least she fell back to sleep then and not at 6 again but I'm exhausted and so is she.

The last two days

Have been torture. Animalia wakes up at 3 or 4am and is instantly and happily awake. I try in vain to put her back to sleep and she doesn't go to sleep. She wants to watch Scooby Doo and have a snack. This morning it was fruta, jugo, and Goldfish Crackers. See... at 3am or even 4am I shouldn't be awake. Waking up this early is bound to give me diarrhea or some other random and uncomfortable ailment. But there we are, in the "libbing room" watching Scooby Doo.

I don't think I've mentioned her love for Scooby Doo here. She loves him and I guess if that's the way we ruin our daughter then that's the way we do it.

Anyhow, there I am, eyes barely open. Then at around 6am she asks me to lay down with her on the couch. We cuddle, she falls asleep, I doze until my alarm goes off and I have to stumble around sleep deprived to get ready for work. I carry her sleepless body to the car where she seems awake enough for a brief conversation. Then she stops talking and I look back-- asleep again! I am terribly jealous of her, being chauffered around in a padded seat, comfortable enough to fall asleep. I take her to Nana's house and she continues to sleep as I arrange her on the couch.

She sleeps til 10:30. Of course that means that she didn't take a nap which could mean that she's in a terrible mood, an angry, vengeful mood. Or it could mean that she's tired enough by the day's end to fall asleep tonight without incident. Or she could wake up at 3am and be ready for her day again. And then I'll continue to be sleep deprived and diarrhea-ish.

When does practicality become hoarding?

We sorted through Animalia's clothes the other day, me and Nana. It was something I'd wanted to do ever since we found out The New Baby is a girl. There were lots of clothes from the last two years, ridiculous amounts of clothes. Hoarding amounts of clothes.

I think was being both practical and lazy. Lazy? Maybe or maybe just busy. See, what happens is that there are lots of clothes. Animalia grows out of those clothes. I put them in a bag and put them in her closet for later sorting. I figured I'd sort them and keep some for any possible New Baby Girl or sell them for later clothes for Animalia or give them away to a friend or family member in need of baby girl clothes or donate them to one place or another. So I did that for over two years. Animalia's tiny closet was beyond stuffed. Then I pulled everything out into laundry baskets and said that I'd start the sorting project any day now. And I didn't, you know with little things like work and mothering and sleep getting in the way. And then one day Nana says that she has some things to go through, did I want to bring all the stuff over and we can do it together? Sure, I wasn't getting it done on my own. So I packed it all up. Three baskets and a trashbag full of tiny clothes. Nana had a couple of bags of her own. And we did it while Animalia napped on the couch.

The results? Poor New Baby. She has her complete wardrobe all set. No new clothes for her. She has her first two years wardrobe all complete.

I am.

Are you really happy? someone asked.



I am.



Really? The reply.



I like my life.



But you're stressed, she stated.



Mmmhmm. A 2-year-old. A husband. A full time job with another full time job on the side. A little extra money making here and there. Another baby on the way. The constant threat of lupus flare up. There's stress. But I'm happy. I like my life.

The Sleepiness

I find myself nesting again, pregnant again, wanting to do nothing but gaze at Animalia while she sleeps. The problem is that she doesn't sleep like she used to. Naps still happen but mostly with a bit of anger and crying. Bedtime for the last few days consists of me putting her to bed, her sneaking off to be with her dad, me not hearing her because I'm asleep, and, the next morning, hearing Jimmy tell me that she played until 11pm and that's why she's so cranky. So basically, I'm tired. Animalia is energetic. And Jimmy is nice to both of us.

I just reread this and I realize that that's no way to make a big announcement. Hi everyone, I'm tired and pregnant. Exciting.

Ok... how about

We're having another baby in November. Animalia won't be an only child. We're thrilled. But really, we are.

Next post, Animalia's reaction.

Two Friends!

Animalia was way too excited when I brought Ana (Raggedy Ann) and Petunia (teddy bear) to sit with her at her tea party last night. It was almost sad when she giggled, "I have TWO friends!" She played tea party with them happily but I couldn't help but think that she needs to see more kids. I need to put more effort into that.

Two dollars

"Mama?"
"Yes, baby?"
"Did you buy me at the Target store? Did I cost two dollars?"
"Yes, baby. I bought you at the Target store. You cost two dollars."

Then she gave me a hug and told me that she loves me very much.

A bow!

This is a bow that I made with my own two hands. It has a barrette backing and is intended for Animalia's wild tresses. It is also intended for her to wear when she wears her lovely Easter dress on Sunday. I am very impressed with this bow as I didn't know I was able to create something like this. I would normally just buy something like this... actually, I wouldn't normally buy something like this as bows like this cost $10. $10! For a bow! I also didn't know I was a bow making kind of mom. But I guess I am a recycling kind of mom (materials left over from other random crafty things) and I am a crafty kind of mom, even if I can never craft, what with having a kid and a job and doing random acts of community type things. So here it is. A bow.

Miss Dramatic

Getting Animalia To Sleep. Capitalized, as if it were the title of a nightly drama, played out by yours truly, Daht, and starring Animalia. I now think it's payback for having such a blissful infant and whenever friends would tell me that theirs wasn't sleeping, I'd smugly say "Animalia only wakes up once or twice per night." Well... now her brain is working like crazy maybe, or maybe she just likes driving me insane from sleep deprivation because she's been waking up several times per night giggling, calling to me, or talking about princesses. So I'm tired. But I hear her and I give her a stern "Es tiempo para mimis" and what does she say? "I understand Mom... I understand" in her most dramatic, saddest, most manipulative voice. Drama.



In the meantime, Nana and Tata have started to have the same problems with naptime. When Nana firmly tells her that she has to take a nap, Animalia wails, "Nana... why are you so mad at me?"



Drama.

Preschool Search '10, part 2

So I thought I loved the second school and then decided, after someone else visited the next day and reported that the bathrooms were filthy and some other major stuff, that I don't love it anymore. I'm not a clean freak by any means but filthy bathrooms are a deal breaker. Also, a certain elitest private school attitude that won't serve us well as we're hoping to put Animalia in public school for 1st grade. At least that's the current plan. Have I mentioned that this is really hard?

Left message at two other schools. One will get back to me when they have their Reggio Emilia-based program completely in place, the other, a well-known and -respected place, hasn't bothered to return my call.

At 2 years and 4 months...

At two years and four months, Animalia loves:

-dolls of any shape or size.
-her dog Cooper. She calls him "Cupa Coop," "Mr. Cooper," and "Zippy." The rest of us are only allowed to call him Cooper.
-making. Also known as cooking.
-yarning. Also known as cutting with sticks. That's knitting for the rest of us.
-books, especially Ghosts in the House! by Kazuno Kohara, Art (Petit Connoisseur) by Karen Salmansohn, Princess Baby, Night-Night by Karen Katz, and In Grandma's Arms by Jayne C Shelton and Karen Katz. Also, anything Maisy, anything with princesses, anything about dragons or dinosaurs.
-making pipis and popos in the potty, not like dogs or cats. According to Animalia, they do it outside because they stink.
-her ABCs and knows them well enough to purposely replace letters in the sequence. Hilarity ensues when she sings A-B-C-D-I-O-P or a similar sequence.
-to count.
-to tuck herself into bed when it's not bedtime. Of course, she doesn't love to tuck herself in when it is bedtime.
-being funny, making jokes, being tickled and everything else related to laughter.
-drawing. "Not on the books, only on the paper."
-dancing. She especially loves dancing in the kitchen to the oldies.
-humming random tunes.
-sopita.
-being scared. There are probably few bigger thrills for her than having someone jump out and scare her. Really.
-her family. Her happiest times are spent "together, with the whole family." She especially loves it when her mama, daddy, nana and tata are all in the same place at the same time.

time out

So here's what happened:

I was moving laundry from the washer to the dryer. Animalia was actually helping me until the bag of dog food caught her eye. Then she started playing with the dog food. I told her to stop. I know, playing with dog food isn't the end of the world but she's acquired the bad habit of also torturing Cooper with food items, so I feel the need to retrain her to leave Cooper's stuff alone. Anyhow, she's sticking her hands in it. I tell her no. She does it again. Etc. When my hands aren't full of laundry, I physically move her away from it and she stops momentarily. So.. major plot point.. this is a rainy day. Some of the laundry needs to hang dry, so I scoop it up and start to hang it in the bathroom. She follows me and closes the door. I'm in the bathroom, hands full of wet clothing, and she's in the laundry room. Alone. I hang up the laundry, calmly, but irritated. I walk out of the bathroom when I'm done, only to find her standing in a puddle of dog food. Laughing. She's testing me. And she thinks it's funny. I'm irritated. I tell her that I told her no and she didn't listen so she's gotta go to time out. And I take her to a chair in the children's paradise that is our living room. And I sit her in it. And she cries. And cries. And wails her objections. And cries some more.

Two minutes later...

I tell her she can leave time out. She cries some more and stays in time out. Another minute or so later, she walks over to me, gasping. "Mommy, I'm sorry," she says. I say something parental, like "You got time out because you can't play with Cooper's food." She says something like, "Mommy, I'm really really sorry." She's dramatic, my child is. Then she asks for a hug and I give her one. Then she asks for a kiss and I give her one. The kiss part is weird because she grabs my face, one of her tiny hands on each of my cheeks, and squeezes me a little, and kisses me really hard. I can't help but think that this is the kiss of death, that my tiny child is some sort of mob godfather and I'll be smothered in my sleep tonight by a paid hitman. But I digress. So she gives me a kiss. Then she says, "Little girls don't play with Cooper's food." And I tell her that she's right.

The B-Word

It's not as bad as it sounds. In fact, it's not bad at all.

The other night, Animalia was sitting on the floor coloring. For some reason I was freezing so I was wrapped in a blanket on the couch. She looks up at me, and in her sweetest voice says, "Mommy? Will you play with me?" But I'm cold and tired. I try to make an excuse. "Play with me! Play with me!" she orders. I try to make it up to her by drawing while sitting on the couch. "No, mom! Sit with me on the floor!" Sigh. I'm gonna do it but aside from cold and tired I'm also very slow. She stands up, walks over to me, and tugs on the blanket. "Take off the B-word and sit with me!" she says, her patience gone. "B-word? What's that?" I ask her. "The blanket, mom," she says, practically rolling her eyes. And, cold, slow and tired, I do. I take off the B-word and color with her. Not because she's the boss of me. But because I was really impressed by the appropriate use of "B-word."

From gchat

Marisa (nina): Why is it hilarious that Amalia, age 2, has a long black skirt?
She is your child.
Everyone who I fwded the Halloween pic of Amalia in the witch hat thought that was her costume
Because she was in all black
I was like, "No, that's her style"
me: She dresses herself.
This morning it was a yellow longsleeve shirt with a colorful animal picture on the front
a matching pink skirt
(I know, doesn't sound like it matches but it totally does)
AND THEN she started with cute pink sandals that totally went with the outfit
but was distracted when she saw her knee high black boots
she ended up going with the boots "so my feet are warm and cozy"
Marisa (Nina): Why is it it hilarious that Amalia, age 2, has knee high black boots?
Do you not see the humor?
me: They were on sale and I had a coupon.
She also has black patent ankle boots.
She's her mama's girl in many ways.
This means that the next kid won't care about fashion at all.

I've been working.

I've been working. The regular ol' job plus some extra, on-the-side work teaching digital storytelling to some lovely ladies for some vacation money plus dentist and doctor's appointments. There have been repercussions to this. The blog is sorely in need of updating as there are many cute and hilarious things that Animalia is doing lately, so I'm catching up, finishing blog posts that I started but didn't finish and quickly writing new ones about things that I don't want to forget. Also, Animalia is clingy. She fights with people when I'm around, trying to steal precious moments for herself. This past Saturday, she even pushed her Tata away, saying "Get away from me! I'm with my mom!"

So yesterday was my first real day off all alone with Animalia in almost two weeks. We slept in and then spent most of the day cuddling and hugging and giving random kisses. She sat on my lap and we read lots of books and at one point she said, "It's mama and Aya. Me and you. Me and you together." I squeezed her and gave her a kiss and felt love and guilt and happiness and sadness. I've been neglecting my baby a little bit for the greater good (I guess) but I may not care about the greater good at her expense.

TWO! Birthday party, part 1.

Yesterday, 12:36pm, Animalia turned two. Two. TWO!!!!

We celebrated with:
A long walk to Roma Imports with Daht, Nana, and Tata, where we purchased lasagna and bread for dinner. We walked back home a different route and hit a small park and Dairy Queen for ice cream. At DQ, Animalia got a little vanilla ice cream in a cup and sat, legs crossed, like a lady to eat it. When we arrived back at Nana's house, Nina's sister was there to deliver some balloons from Nina. Animalia giggled happily when she saw them. Then she asked if they were Adelina's or Lito's. We told her no and she wandered around holding her ballons "by self" and saying that they weren't Adelina's or Lito's.
After our walk, we baked a cake (from cake mix) at Nana's house. Animalia stirred it "by self" and also said "hold the bowl so I can stir it." "Stir it" sounded like steeew it. It was cute.
After our cake baking we took her home and took naps.
After our naps, we picked up Tío Javier (Animalia now calls him Javiert) and went to the mall. Animalia got some chocolate brown Converse All Stars. Then we went to Build-A-Bear. She was given a name tag stating her name and that it was her second birthday. After loving on all of the empty shells, she chose a bear. We were asked if we wanted to add sound and pressed a few buttons with Animalia, trying them out, but we elected not to add sound after one of them said "What's up, girlfriend?" and we decided we couldn't listen to that over and over again. Animalia was scared by the stuffing machine as it was almost as loud as a vaccuum cleaner (and she hates those). She liked the beating heart, so we added one. Then she became distracted by a little red convertible. We chose a couple dresses and had her choose one. She went back to trying to climb into the little car. It was time to finish up, so she helped me press the buttons on the computer, until she became distracted by a different computer. I panicked and chose the name "Petunia" for the bear. And so it was. The birth of Petunia.
After the bear building, we went back to Nana and Tata's house for dinner with Tío and April. Animalia laughed hysterically and forcefully every time anyone said "Petunia" and played with her balloons some more and finally, when we asked whose birthday it was, answered "It's MY birthday!" We ate dinner and cake and unwrapped presents. She got clothes and a book and Robin Hood and a Tee Ball set and a baby doll that has a tuberculosis cough and comes with a play doctor set and a miniture grill along with wooden shish kebab and s'mores. She was impressed and happy. We were happy and tired.
After her small birthday party, we went home.
After we got home, we relaxed and, finally, slept.
After Animalia woke up in the morning, she asked for Petunia. And laughed.

Birthday party, part 2 will be posted sometime after her October 11 party. Pray for my sanity. Please.

Two is just around the corner.

Time flies. My baby now calls herself a "teeny tiny girl." She walks and talks and demands. She plays and "reads" books. She sings and dances. She chooses her own clothes, mainly dresses. She can put on her own shoes and pull on her own zapetas. She can identify the doctor's office and the credit union when we pass by in the car ("the doctor girl's house" and the kangaroo's house). When she wants to go somewhere she says "Take my hand." On her tippy toes, she's tall enough to reach the lower mail slot at the post office and loves to push the mail in. She has imaginary friends, still The Boy, plus some random others that she talks to occasionally. She can buckle herself into her stroller and she does, when I'm in a hurry and I just throw her in. She loves to go to the store, any store and she makes up names for stores she wants to go to (The Dancing Store!). She continues to look more and more like a kid and less and less like a baby. She makes jokes. She's bossy. She's lovey. She loves hair and clothes and zapatos.

It makes me happy, my baby being so healthy and smart and beautiful. It makes me sad that she's headed away from being a baby.

My baby is turning two in a little more than two weeks. We'll have a quiet "Happy Birthday to You" at Nana's house on the actual day, then a bigger, more hectic "Happy Birthday to You" at the park the following weekend. Bubble-themed. And then it's goodbye to One.