What do you want to be when you grow up?

I asked Miss Ella this very question tonight.

Ella: "A firefighter".
Me: "Are you sure?"
Ella: "Yes, I've made up my mind."
Me: "I'll be really worried about you."
Ella: "I'll call you."

heh.

Me: "Goose, what do you want to be when you grow up?"
Allie: "A teacher!!"
Ella: "Did you make up your mind?"

I wish we were our own reality show so I could get these convos on video.

Happy Birthday Goose!

My silly goose is 3 years old today. To celebrate her birth, I leave you with some pictures ...

The last picture of me big and fat, waiting out the contractions.

Miss Allison Ann, 3 minutes old.

All cleaned up and mommy gets to hold her.

The end of her very first day.

Some professional pics, taken a few days later.

Feet!

I'm one!!!

Let them eat cake!

I'm two!

Now I'm almost three years old!


So, a big happy birthday to my goose, Miss Allison Ann. :)

Don't cry over spilled milk.

The kids are both well past sippy cups. I do hand them out during a weekend or evening, but for the most part, it's cups all the way. Especially at the table.

Allison has been spilling her milk almost every single damned day. I give off my initial shock at the spill, she freaks out and then I try to calm her down, telling her it's an accident. But how many daily accidents do we have to go through until it becomes a problem?

She simply isn't watching what she is doing. She usually clips her plate, which is what causes the spill. And I realize she is only a few days away from 3 years old. I'm not expecting her to ~never~ spill her milk, but a little less would be fantabulous. Well, we are working on it. We're working on paying attention every time she sets down her cup. To watch where the cup is being placed. The past few days have been going swimmingly.

Last night, we had a strange eating night. Daddy was out of town, so we kind of had a lax dinner. I had bought some little piggy banks they could paint and had told them they could paint after school. The day ended up being a little longer than I had planned due to work, so after we were all settled, I asked if they would rather paint or eat. Allie wanted to eat, Ella wanted to paint. Due to the fact I was reheating some pancakes (gasp!) I had made earlier in the week, I could oblige their request.

Ella started painting in her spot and Allie ate. When it was time to switch, I switched the girls in each other's spot because I had the paper all laid out for painting where Ella sat. The girls started going to town and within minutes, I hear it. The classic sound of a cup of milk tipped over. However, it was Ella, not Allison. Ella hasn't spilled milk in forever.

I'm starting to wonder if Allison's spot is a haunted milk spilling spot. :)

She's got a one track mind.

Allison, my dear little one, only wants to eat pancakes.

That's it. Pancakes. If we are somewhere that doesn't have pancakes, she'll eat something else. But at home, she knows pancakes can be made from the box in the freezer, from the just-add-water mix in the cupboard and even from scratch. I can't tell her "we're out!" without her pointing out we are not, in fact, out.

I am able to put some butternut squash or sweet potato puree in it (~love~ the book "deceptively delicious"). Oooo. I just thought about adding banana puree. She'd dig that. And I am able to get some chunks of fresh fruit in her as a side.

But, hrm. Pancakes it seems to be. I don't mind her eating them, I know she'll eventually get out of her rut, but man, I would not be able to eat the same thing day after day after day after day ...

The wrong side of the bed.

My husband and I don't sleep together anymore. Due to having to lay on my side to sleep now, I bought a top of the line foam top mattress pad for our bed. In my previous two pregnancies, my hips would become so sore and I was miserable. So this time, I thought ahead and got the pad from the get-go. It's very comfy for me, but unfortunately, it hurts his back. Damn.

During my bout with first trimester exhaustion, hubby would let me sleep in everyday. In fact, he still lets me sleep in everyday. What a nice guy, eh?

My whole point to the above information is the girls are "trained" to go into the spare room when they wake up instead of coming in my room. Which leads me to this morning.

I woke up a little before 6am with back pain. It hurt too bad to go back to sleep, so I decided I would at least make sure when the early bird woke up (Allison), I would call to her to come in my room. She usually wakes up just before 7am, so I was watching for her. Or at least I thought she would. At 730a, I got up to check on her and she wasn't in her bed! I looked in the spare room and there she was, snuggling up to Daddy. Damn it! I somehow missed her and she woke him up anyway. Grrr. I try to do something nice and I couldn't make it happen.

So I pull her out and get her in bed with me to watch cartoons. Miss Ella gets up minutes later and I have both my girls snuggles next to me. Allison then informs me when they get up with Daddy, he gets them something to drink before breakfast. I tell her I'll get them something momentarily and the tears start to fall.

It just drives me nutso. Ella did the same thing in her 3rd year - cried about everything. And now Ella is out of it, Allison goes right into it. Sweet.

Anywho, so her crying does not make me want to jump up and appease her. Which puts us all in a bad mood. I get up to finally get them some milk and apparently I uncover her too much while I'm getting out of bed and the tears start again. Oy vey.

They get their milk and I get in the shower. Miss Ella wants to get in the shower with me ("but don't wash my hair mommy!") and I let her in. Except she's not liking the fact I actually have to use some of the water. I think she wanted me to stand in the corner! So my morning shower is not as good as it should be and I get out.

Things go well while I get myself ready for work until I start to make breakfast. Ella wants pancakes and Allison wants eggs. But we were on a time limit so it had to be cereal with some cut fruit. Watch out. Tears from both girls now. (yes, I have drama queens. Super well behaved in public, but meltdowns over silly things when we are at home). I get them to accept a bowl of Cocoa Krispies and some cantaloupe.

Now it's time to get dressed. It's chilly here right now (weird colorado weather) and it's rainy/misty with a high of only 72. So I tell them they need pants and tennis shoes today. Ella asked if she could wear her pink sandals and I said no, she had to wear tennis shoes.

A few minutes later, Ella comes bounding out of her room wearing her pink sandals. Now I'm pissed. To not only do something after I told her no, she did it after asking a second time. I tell her she has to wear her tennis shoes and I set out her pair of vans. Tears galore. I ask her if she's seriously crying over sandals. She just looks at me with the most innocent eyes full of tears. But it's not working and I leave her be.

I am in the other room getting ready and I hear her crying again. It seems daddy has gotten out of the shower and now she's crying to him about what a horrible mother I am. I go in the bathroom and ask if she's asking him to wear the pink sandals. It seems that is not the issue now, as she is crying over wearing her vans. She wants to wear her camo slipons. Fine I say. I just need her to wear tennis shoes.

So I gather up the kids and go out to the car. I open the door only to be greeted with the stench of PUKE. Did I mention this yet? That when I went out of town, my husband used my car to drive the kids out of town and he stopped at mcdonalds? Well, the girls had sippy cups already, so the milk that came with the happy meal wasn't used. Instead, one rolled under the passenger front seat, where it sat for 4 days. Four ~hot~ days.

When I went to drive my car on Tuesday morning, after having just flown back from Arizona, my car reeked of a puke smell. I called my wonderful husband and asked him why my car smelled like puke, as it's still relatively new and still had that nice new car smell to it. His reply? "Yeah, I noticed that." Really?!?! It was terrible! He continued to say "But I took all the trash out and it still seemed to smell." After a quick 5 second search, I find an exploded container of milk underneath the seat. Oh yes, rotten milk ALL over the bottom of the seat and soaked into the carpet below. Awesome.

I had to drive with the windows open and the outside vent blowing directly in my face to keep from puking myself. He comes and trades out my car so he can clean up the mess. When I got home that night, he still hadn't gotten to it. So the next day I just take his car to work. Late in the afternoon he called to say it was clean and he was coming to switch cars. When he gets to my work I ask if the cleaning worked and he says "I think so!".

After work, it only took me opening the cardoor to know his remedy did not work. It was terrible. How could he even begin to think it worked? Holy crap, it was awful. And still is awful.

And that concludes the story of how my day started off on the wrong side of the bed. The day is only half over, so I just can't wait to see what else happens. I am getting off an hour early today to go pick up the kids. I want to do something fun with them, so we'll see. Hopefully I can force the day to change.

The girls' reaction.

I never did update on what the girls' reaction was about the news they were having a baby brother. (even being asked multiple times!)

It actually wasn't that exciting. When we were all home together, I told them I found out if the baby was a boy or a girl. And Ella said very calmly, "I already know it's a boy. Uncle Mark told us."

Grrrr.

We told a few friends during the day and our friend mark, not actually an uncle of the children, told them when he picked up his kids from the same daycare! I was pissed! But Mark isn't someone who will admit fault. In fact, when we did say something, we were told "you should of told us not to say anything." Oh, didn't realize that was a necessity! But whatever.

Ella told us she will not play with her new baby brother, but Allie informed us that she will. How nice. Heh.

Ella is also very into telling me how "giant" my belly is. Little does she know.

We did have a little conversation on the way to dinner last night.

Ella: "Broccoli makes you big and strong!"
Allie: "Ice cream too!"
Mommy: "No, too much ice cream can make you fat."
Ella: "But aren't you fat mommy?"

Awesome.

There is nothing better.

When I go out of town on business, no one greets me at the airport because I drove myself. But on this trip, my husband, along with 2 kids with tears stained faces, dropped me off. Saying goodbye to the girls was tougher this way, as they had to see me leave instead of me sneaking out of the house, but it was sweet. Just that they cared enough to not want me to go made my heart swell two sizes too big, just like a grinch heart.

On my way home on the plane, I found myself filled with excitement to land, knowing my husband and girls would be there to greet me. I quickly found them, each holding a rose, waiting for me. Allison gave me a purple rose, Ella's was pink and my husband's was red. But the flowers weren't necessary, as the smiles made everything else invisible.

I'm lucky enough to get an excited homecoming nearly everyday. I drop the kids off at daycare and my husband picks them up, so when I get home, they've already been at home for awhile. Which mean when I pull up, I am greeted immediately with the sound of two sets of little feet, running to the front door screaming "mommy!". But the airport greeting was even better, as the excitement in their faces matched my own.

My husband then received the last "hello", but the welcome back kiss makes up for being last.