My kids are so punk rock.

We took them to their first show yesterday.

It's my husband's friend's band and they are really, really good. They are a punk rock sublime type. (Called "Proper Villians") They played an outdoor show yesterday - perfect opportunity for the kids.

Hubby made t-shirts for the girls with the band's name and then put a skull and crossbones patch underneath, except the skull was actually a cupcake. So cool.

Then, he wanted them to have mohawks, so instead of an actual mohawk, I put a row of ponytails down their heads, but made little buns with them, so they had stubby mohawks.

I think everybody in attendance took a picture of them.

Oh, the best part was I have taught them to make the "rock on" symbol from the time they were really little, so they were walking around with their fingers up.



Awesome.

The drummer let the girls play drums before the 2nd set, so I have pictures of that too.

Pictures to come soon.

Devil Worshipping.

I know I mentioned the Carebears are the devil, but if they are the devil, ChuckECheese must be their god.

I'm taking the plunge. We're taking the kids to ChuckECheese this afternoon. Kill me. Please?

I don't know why this really came about. I hate to admit that this ~was~ my idea. Yeah, suddenly I heard myself asking two children "Do you want to go to ChuckECheese?". I almost clasped my hands over my mouth, denying it was even said. But they sure heard it because I saw two little beings jumping up and down at the prospect.

Kids don't forget. You think their minds are more like minds of goldfish, where they reset every now and again. But oh no. They remember.

When my oldest was only 2 years old, my father told her "When you get older, I'm going to take you to Disneyland." First of all, I didn't even realize she knew what disneyland was, but the aspect of it was pretty exciting. Just about every morning, she would wake up to tell me Grandpa is taking her to disneyland when she gets older. And then I stopped hearing about it. The morning of her third birthday was different. She woke up to her birthday excitement saying "Mommy, I'm older now. Grandpa is going to take me to Disneyland." Whoa.

I had to explain that three wasn't the ripe old age of disneyland antics and she accepted that just fine. Until she turned 4. "Mommy, I'm older now. Grandpa is going to take me to Disneyland."

He better take her. That's all I'm saying.

So, what do you think the chances of her forgetting today is ChuckECheese day?

Something that breaks my mommy heart.

At daycare, the kids are all split up in many different age groups. Allie was in the potty training room and Ella was in the post potty trained room. Allie's room consisted of around 2 to 3 years old but she started before she was two, since she had already been potty training. Ella's room has in general, 3-4 year olds, but they can start as young as 2 1/2, because it's the post potty training room.

Ella should have been moved up earlier, but I just ~love~ her teachers, I wasn't pushing the move. Space was tight, so I didn't mind her staying put. Now that space is opened, she moved up with a bunch of kids. Allie, on the other hand, moved up to what was Ella's room. She isn't quite 3 yet, but since there was space and Allie has been potty trained forever (I think she was totally potty trained by 2 or shortly thereafter), they made the move up.

Ella is doing fine, as she moved with a bunch of her friends. Not a problem there. But my shy little Allison moved up without the kids she's used to. She already knows the teachers so there is no issue there at all. But she just doesn't have a set group of friends yet. I dropped her off this morning and watched as they were playing outside. She just stood to the side of the playground all by herself. It just broke my heart.

Allie is a shy girl. It usually only lasts 10 or 15 minutes and then after that, she's talking up a storm and playing. And I hope this is what I was seeing - those 15 shy minutes. I need to talk to her teacher tonight to make sure.

Wow. I didn't realize how hard it would be to see something like that.

The girls and the pregnancy.

I was open about the pregnancy before there even was a pregnancy. I believe in letting my children know what is going on, even if it could lead to disappointment. I protect my children from harm, but I also believe in getting them ready for the real world.

During the 20 cycles trying to conceive this baby, I had plenty of emotions. If I was sad over a failed cycle, I didn't hide it from my kids.

* note - While I didn't hide my emotions from the girls, I also kept them in check. I am their mother and I will treat them as my children. I don't think it's okay to bring them into adult problems, so I am very careful in what I do share with them.

If I was tear stained and they asked what was wrong, I told them Mommy was sad because Mommy and Daddy are trying to grow a new baby and it didn't work yet. I'd give them big hugs and tell them how happy I was that I was able to grow them. They'd usually hug me back and go on with their play.

During my IVF cycle, they were active in helping me with injections. I would have one of them hold the syringe while I wiped my hip off with alcohol and after I would do the injection, I'd even let one of them pull it out. They knew all the medicine was helping mommy get ready to put some "baby eggs" in my belly to see if they would grow. I never promised them anything and always told them baby eggs don't always grow, but we'll be trying.

After our embryo transfer I showed them the pictures of the Fab Four (the four embryos we transferred). I explained how these were the baby eggs and we put them in my belly to see if they would grow. Ella did a great job with understanding, in her childlike way, what was going on. She would tell her teacher "mommy put 4 baby eggs in her belly and we hope one grows, but they might not."

When we got the BFP, the girls were the 2nd and 3rd to know. We told them a baby egg was growing, always careful to also say that it may stop growing at anytime. When I had the low beta and the scare of ectopic, I told Ella that the baby egg wasn't doing too well and it may not live much longer. She looked sad and said "okay" and then ran off to play.

I think many adults underestimate children. Children can understand much more than I ever would have thought they could. And while I will never allow them to become privy to any of our adult issues/problems, as they are still my children and I want them to remain children, I'm happy I can include them in the entire pregnancy.

The girls are in a big argument right now in what the sex of the baby is going to be. Ella thinks it's a girl and Allison is under the impression we ~need~ a boy. So this is what I hear about 100 times a day ...

Ella: "We don't know if it's a blue eyed girl or a brown eyed girl!"
Allie: "Ella, the baby is a brown eyed boy!"
Ella: "Maybe it's a blue eyed boy! But it's a girl."
Allie: "No it's not! It's a boy!"
~tears explode from each~

Ahhhh. They may be able to understand quite a bit, but they still are 2 1/2 and 4!

Carebears are the Devil.

My girls went through a carebear phase where they would point out the carebears anytime we went to the store. So for the birthday or christmas or groundhog day or flag day (I seem to buy presents on any day), I bought them carebears.

With the carebears came the carebear cartoon, circa late 1980s. I remember these cartoons being around, but I was too old to watch them. I was at least 15 - 16 when they came out and I would much rather watch MTV than a stupid carebears cartoon. (and I look at a lot of annoying things I "missed" by being too old. And I thank my mother for getting pregnant with me in 1972. really.).

Anywho, the cartoons. They are terrible. TERRIBLE. And each comes with a couple commercials that I honestly think are from the 80s also. Think lots of side ponytails and yellows and greens. Oy vey.

My girls ~love~ these cartoons. Ella just came in and asked me "Mommy, will you watch our cartoons with us?" And while it was sweet she wants to me with mommy, I responded with a "HELL no." Yes, I even said Hell. I just can't do it. Carebears? And there is this character called "shreaky" that makes me want to drive hot pokers into my ear canals. How could any kid like this crap?

I guess I should mention a little about my cursing. I curse. A lot. When I had my first daughter, everyone said "You've got to stop cursing soon!". Yeah, yeah. But I didn't. Hell, I don't even think I can. I never edit my cursing. I curse in front of my parents. I curse at work. I curse everywhere. The "F-bomb" being one of my very favorite words.

My very best friend in the world is also a curser and she has kids 5 years older than mine. She told me a little story that made me feel loads better. Her philosophy on cursing is she curses and teaches the kids they are words for adults only. Sure, the kids would pick up on a bad word, but it was when they were young. By the time they were older and starting school, they lost their novelty and she had NEVER had a problem with them cursing. Sure, they'll probably use that language as early teens in front of their friends, but really, who cares? My kids will be punk rock anywho, so be it.

I do have to say I loved the first time my little girl used the f-bomb. I was holding a basket of laundry up in the air and my little one, allison, was crawling by my feet. I was gently pushing her booty to get her to keep moving and Ella took a look at her and said all exasperated, "Allison, get the fuck out of the way!". heh. I used the basket to hide my laughter and then explained that "fuck" is a bad word. This was about 2 years ago and she hasn't used it since.

So kill me that I'm a curser and I don't care if my kids hear me. That's me.

pink eye.

Nice.

Pink eye has infiltrated the clan. So far it's just Allie, but it won't be long before everyone has it. Gross.

Roller Derby Queens.

My girls came out of the office and apparently had gotten into my roller derby bag. Each girl had on my pads (ella wore the wrist guards and allie wore the elbow pads) and each one had on a skate.

It was so fucking cute.

You would think as a mommy, I would jump up and grab my camera and take a picture and post to the world.

But no. I'm a newly pregnant SLUG who hits the couch after work and rarely moves again.

I'm lame.