Movin' On Up

Have I mentioned that my Baby Guy is a tiny thing? He was a whopping 6 lbs 9 oz and 18.5 inches when he was born, and he's stayed on the small side ever since. He's consistently in the "less than 3rd" percentile in both weight and length/height when we go to his well-baby checkups. So, although he has a low weight, it's consistent with how short he is. He's healthy, just small.

(Although since he has switched from primarily nursing and being fed from jars to drinking rice milk and self-feeding, his weight has dropped a bit, but we're working on that.)

We went to church tonight (we typically go on Saturday evenings, which is so much easier with parents who like to sleep in two young children). We were running a bit late, so my husband dropped the three of us off near the door and went and parked while I dragged hurried my children in, while praying there would be room in child care for both of them.

As I got to check-in, my heart sank temporarily. We go to a somewhat larger church, and I was dismayed to find a surprisingly long line (although why I was surprised, I don't know - it's not like we're the only family with small children that tends to run late sometimes). My turn came up, and I checked my children in - my son into "Suite C" and my daughter into "Suite E."

Suite E? I thought. That sounded weird, but figured I was just confused. That happens frequently from time to time.

This whole time, my daughter had been whining. "I want my Daddy! I want my Daddy!" Sigh. Then it became, "I want my Kitty!" and I realized we had potentially made a grave mistake - we had left her Kitty at home. My daughter and Kitty are inseparable, and there was a good chance we were in for a rough ride since we had left it behind.

As she was sniffling, red-nosed, beside me and I was trying to figure out where she was supposed to go, a volunteer walked up. She gave my daughter a sticker, cajoled a little smile out of her (which disappeared the moment she walked away) and smiled at my son, whom I was holding.

"It's Promotion Weekend," she informed me.

Huh? My cluelessness must have shown on my face, because she continued, "Your daughter will be moving up to the next class today. Your son won't be moving, though."

Ahhh. That's right - two weeks ago we were told that our children would be moving up in two weeks. That would make it today. That would also explain the reason "Suite E" sounded odd. Since my children are only a year apart (from a school perspective), my daughter has been in Suite C for a year, while my son has been in Suite A. So "Suite C" still sounded familiar because that's where she has been, while Suite E sounded weird because neither of them has been in it before.

Promotion Weekend. What a funny thing to call it. And then I realized something else hadn't sounded right.

"Why won't my son be moving up today?"

She smiled. "Oh, he'd have to turn 1 by October 1st to move up today! How old is he?"

Uhhhhh...."Fourteen months."

Blink. "Oh! Well, you're a little guy, aren't you?"

Yup. My little bitty guy.

But...wow. October 1 is still a month-and-a-half away, and she thought he still wouldn't be a year old yet. I know he's little, but does he really look that much smaller than he "should?" Wow.

Anyway both of my children "moved up" today. I actually thought it was strange that my daughter was moving up so soon...until we got to the room and I realized she was moving into the two-year-old class. She'll be 3 in December.

When I picked up my son after the service, I had to laugh. Clutched in his left hand was - you guessed it - the green ring from their stacking toy.

And - bonus - it was star-shaped.

Toddler Terrorism

I want to share something special with you. This is the story that started it all. The original Toddler Terrorism. There's just one thing about it.

I didn't write it.

That's right. My blog's catchy title? I may have forgotten to mention this, but I didn't come up with it.

My husband did.

And now he's insisted I confess that - and share the story he wrote. So, without further ado, I give you the original

Toddler Terrorism

by Daddy

Does anyone else have a toddler who does things like this? This morning I took my daughter into her room to get her ready to sit on the potty, shutting the door behind me to keep my son from following us in and pulling all of her clean clothes out of the laundry basket. After removing her (already disgusting) diaper (and wondering why she still needed to sit on the potty) and heading toward the door, I discovered something was missing. Something important. Namely, the doorknob. It's a type that requires tightening with an allen wrench, and had been loose for several weeks while I was too busy to retrieve said allen wrench from the downstairs workshop. Apparently my daughter had found time to remove it this morning when she wasn't strewing the contents of a new box of diapers all over the room. So now I am trapped in a bedroom with my naked-from-the-waist-down toddler (she needed to sit on the potty, remember?) who is now prancing around the room and singing Veggie tunes.

"Where's the doorknob?" I asked my daughter. Silence. Also a look that clearly says, "I have no idea what you're talking about but will try to humor you anyway."

"Do you remember where you put it?" Pause. "No." Sigh.

At this point, with my focus largely on finding the doorknob/getting us out of the room, I somehow FORGET that I have a half-naked toddler who needs to potty in the room with me. Continuing the search, I discover a decent-sized puddle right next to the laundry basket that I am pretty sure had not been there previously.

"Did you pee on the floor?"

"Yes."

"Why did you do that?"

"Oops."

Here we paused in our search for the missing doorknob to clean up the pee puddle........ Having cleaned up the pee, the search continues without success. I try other options. How about putting two books around the doorknob stem to gain some leverage? No dice. Same result with everything else I try. I call my wife to advise her of the situation and my plans to deal with it. She is not amused. Time to dial 911.

"Mom? I have a small problem." My mother is incredulous that I have managed to lock myself in a room with a toddler while my 10-month old son is enjoying the rest of the house to himself. She agrees to come over and release us.

In a last ditch effort to save my ailing mother a trip over, I start digging through the folded laundry to see if my daughter could possibly have stowed the $%)!! doorknob in the basket. Lo and behold, with a loud THUNK the thing comes plopping out of the laundry onto the hardwood. We are saved. I phone Mom with the good news and turn my attention to the half-naked toddler.

"Are you ready to sit on the potty?"

"I want some apple juice."

"Of course you do." Ain't kids great?

Toddler Tidbits

I'm lounging on the couch with my laptop (love laptops!) doing two of my favorite things: writing a new blog post and drinking hot chocolate. Mmmmmm.

It occurred to me today that it might seem odd to my readers that, despite the name of my blog, I often post about things other than my children. The reason for this is simple: I never intended my blog to be entirely about my children.

What? Then...why did you call it Toddler Terrorism?

Because it's catchy! Don't you think? Is there really any better reason than that? And I do have toddlers (officially two, now, as my baby guy has been walking on his own for about a week). And I am going to post about them a lot. Just not exclusively.

Just thought I'd get that out there for all of you who were wondering. Because you were wondering, right?

I do, however, plan to talk about some toddler terrorism tonight.

Toddler Timing

I took the kids out for a walk with my in-laws tonight. Of course, first I had to get home from work, then we had to eat dinner, then I had to chase my son around with a bottle because he had to have it (whine, whine, whine!) until the very moment I gave it to him, at which point it was time to play. By the time all of that was finished, it was approaching 8:00.

Yes, I leave the house with my kids after 8:00 sometimes. So sue me.

I called my in-laws and told them I needed to change a couple of soggy diapers, then I'd be ready to go. Changed diaper #1. Changed diaper #2. Herded the kids into the living room to get my daughter's shoes.

Then, when we were two minutes from getting out the door - we had almost made it - I heard the last thing a parent wants to hear when they're trying to leave the house. Seven dreaded words that (at least in my house) mean it's going to be a minimum of another fifteen minutes before we can even consider hitting the road.

"I need to sit on the potty."

My initial response was some wishful thinking. "No you don't." (Yes, yes. I know. Bad Mommy. But - fifteen minutes. At least.)

"Yes I do!"

Sigh. Yes, in fact, she did. And she went on the potty. And I didn't have to change a dirty diaper. I should have been thankful for that, but all I could think about was that we had been this close to getting out the door.

We did go walk, even though it was getting close to 8:30 by the time we left the house. It was 9:30 - and dark - by the time we finished walking, but it was a nice night and a pleasant walk and we even got to see a deer.

I know you're jealous.

Toddler Logic

As part of my daughter's bedtime routine, she sits with her daddy and drinks a cup of warm milk. Sitting on the couch. In the living room. (Remember this. It's important.)

While waiting for him to get her milk ready, she started complaining remarking that she was cold. I was sitting on the couch giving my son his bottle and she commanded politely asked me to get her a blanket.

Me: "I can't get it right now. It's in the other room."

Her: "It's not in the other room!"

Me: "Then where is it?"

Her: "In my bedroom."

Toddler Terrorism Turned My Brain To Mush

After the kids were in bed, as I was putting together in advance my son's midnight (or 2 a.m.) bottle - yes, yes, my 14-month-old still gets a middle-of-the-night bottle, at least he's no longer nursing for an hour and a half every night - I conscientiously followed the instructions on the rice milk package and shook it like the kid in first-grade music class who gets to play the tambourine vigorously.

I discovered that those instructions excluded one thing that this mind-numbed mom apparently needed to be told, as she wasn't quick enough on the uptake to figure it out on her own.

Hold down the cap while you shake it, because the seal isn't strong enough to withstand maniacal vigorous shaking on its own.

My husband walked in shortly after I finished mopping up the mess.

Me: "Make sure you hold the rice milk closed before you shake it."

Him: "I already knew that."

Oh, reeeeeeeeally.

Me: "You didn't find that out the hard way, too, did you?"

Him: "No comment."

Heh.

Wordless Wednesday

Not Me...Wednesday?

As I sit here (or wander around there) doing things that I probably shouldn't, or would at least prefer not to admit doing, I realize I could probably do a "Not Me" post every day.

For example...I did not just eat two pieces of the cake that one of the Transmission Operators (at work) brought in to share among the other Operators.

Did I mention I'm not one of the Operators?

Oh no...not me. I wouldn't swipe cake meant for someone else. Twice.

(Okay, okay, they did invite me to have some. I don't want you to think that badly of me. But still. Technically for the guys who are slaving at their desks for twelve-hour-days on shift work...not for me in my cushy 8-5 8:30-5:30 9-5:30 with-lunch-at-my-desk office job.)

Just had to get that out. Now it's back to the grindstone Access database.

(Speaking of Access databases, if anyone knows how to do charts in Access, I'd be ever-so-grateful for the info.)

Favorite Photos

I don't have much to say tonight, so I'm just going to join in the MckLinky Blog Hop and post a few of my favorite pictures. First, a picture of my beautiful bitty girl:

I can't remember what that look was all about, but I thought it was too cute not to share!

And a picture of my baby guy, too:

Notice the green star in his left hand? Yeah. Here is probably the #1 crazy quirk about my baby guy: he loves the color green, and will gravitate towards green toys. Particularly stacking rings. If we visit someone's house and they have stacking rings, he will take out the green one and carry it around with him for the entire rest of the visit. Seriously, he does not put it down for anything. Just imagine, for a moment, the episode of tiny baby fury that occurs when he has to take a bottle and he can't hold both it and the toy.

Not a pretty sight.

If there aren't stacking rings, then he will find another green toy and carry it around, instead. He's not that picky. It just has to be green. And small enough to carry around. The. Whole. Time.

But, quirky or not, he's a cutie. See?

"Not Me" Monday

For the first time, I am going to participate in MckMama's "Not Me Monday," in which I write about all of the crazy (and marginally embarrassing) things I did not do this week.

First of all, I did not procrastinate writing a blog post this past week. I never procrastinate, so the idea that I might have put off putting some words down on my blog is ludicrous. Completely.

I also didn't have a Starbucks "Double Shot" every morning this week. And the week before that. I certainly wouldn't consume 220 calories of caffeine-laden goodness unhealthy beverage every day when I'm trying to lose weight. Of course, since I'm not currently competing in a weight-loss challenge at work, then it wouldn't be a big deal if I did drink it, right? But, of course, I didn't.

Furthermore, I did not think, after a week of being fatigued and nauseated every evening, "Uh oh, what if I'm pregnant?" I did not, with this thought in mind (because it wasn't in my mind, of course) take four home pregnancy tests that I did not buy at Dollar Tree while not hiding in the next aisle over from my mother-in-law who did not happen to walk in while I was not searching frantically for the tests, which the Dollar Tree staff did not, for some ungodly reason, decide to put in the checkout lane instead of with the bathroom/pharmacy/hygiene supplies.

And I did not breathe a huge sigh of relief when the test was not negative. Er. I mean, it was negative. I mean, I'm not pregnant. No, no, really! I mean it this time!

Whew. Where was I?

Oh, yes.

(By the way, the fatigue/nausea did, um, not happen to go away when I stopped drinking the Double Shots. Who knew?)

Anyway. What else did I not do this week? Well, I didn't take the whole bag (the. whole. bag.) of my daughter's chocolate goldfish grahams to work to have as a snack. I mean, geez. What kind of mom parent person would do something like that?

I also did not take a look at some pictures taken of myself on Saturday and realize my face does not look just like it did right before each of my children was born. Ohmygosh where did that second chin come from???

And with that in mind, I did not turn around on Sunday and have a chocolate milkshake, followed by four chocolate-covered strawberries, followed by two pieces of baby shower cake, followed by a Coke on the way home. And that was just my mid-day snack. Or, um, it wasn't.

I also most certainly did not chase my son around with the aforementioned second piece of baby shower cake trying to force bites on him so I could feel more justified in taking that second piece. After all, my son wanted some more cake.

Not me.

I hope you enjoyed my first "Not Me" Monday post, in which I did not go a little overboard in talking about all the crazy bizarre embarrassing perfectly normal things I did this week.

Er, did not do.