Two Wheels!!

After nearly four years...



...and a wobbly start...


...Precious Daughter has finally ditched the training wheels.


"Four years," you ask? Why so long? Well, Precious Daughter is a bit of a worrier. She worried about falling and getting hurt. (See the elbow & knee pads?) She also didn't practice very much, and The Oracle and I didn't exactly hound her on the subject. BUT, Precious Daughter wants a scooter. She's wanted one for more than a year now, and I told her we weren't going to spend the money on a scooter so it could collect dust alongside her bike. Greed is a powerful motivator.

Lately, though, she's been hitting that bike almost every day after school. The training wheels were still on, but she understood that if she could ride without the training wheels touching the ground, she was doing it on her own.

Hooray, Precious Daughter!!!


Mighty B. generously provided hazard training, whizzing his bike back and forth on the driveway in Precious Daughter's path. It got so bad that I had to pull my "old lady" bike out of the garage (AKA my little-used 40th birthday present to myself) and ride up and down the street with him just to keep him out of the driveway.

About twenty minutes or so later, I was reminded that I had a cesarean section four weeks ago. Oops.

Not to be outdone, Mighty B. demanded that The Oracle remove his training wheels. (Unfortunately, I'd already put the camera away.) We had a smaller-sized bike sans trainers, but he wasn't happy with that. The trouble is that his current bike is a smidge too big for him. When we bought it, the guy at the shop recommended going a bit larger so he wouldn't outgrow it so quickly. With the trainers on, it works well. With the wheels off, he has a long way to stretch his foot to keep from tipping over when he stops.

By the end of the day, he wanted the training wheels put back on. We haven't complied, and I'm not sure if we will. Knowing Mighty B., he'll nail this within two weeks.

Tick Tock

Wow, time flies so quickly! It's hard to believe that C is already one month old even if it was a shorty month thanks to February. (Note: the pictures are dark because C doesn't like the flash.)

She has changed so much in such little time. She's plumping up nicely, with the beginnings of little rolls of baby fat on her thighs and knees. Call me weird, but I can't wait for the warmer weather so her knees are uncovered and perpetually available for squeezes and kisses.

C is more alert with her surroundings. I love this time when they're furrowing their fuzzy eyebrows and trying to focus on things. She flails her arms and kicks her feet to see what she can do with them. She still hasn't turned her clock around, but she's getting better. I actually got some decent sleep during the last week. She's still peeping and grunting up a storm, too.

I get little done because I can't put C down. When I do, I do so reluctantly. Poor C. She's cuddled within an inch of her life, not only because she's a malleable, maulable infant but also because I'm reliving the babyhood of Precious Daughter and Mighty B. I remember how short these days are, and I'm relishing every minute. It's a wonder that I haven't sniffed the hair right off her fuzzy head. That delicious fuzzy-head smell doesn't last long.

Yes, I maul my children. I maul them so much that the kisses showered upon their heads are as much a part of life as getting dressed in the morning. They barely flinch. When I was visiting the kids' school several weeks ago, Precious Daughter's class happened to be filing by in the hallway. She didn't see me pacing her in line, and when I put my arm around her and kissed the top of her head she was only mildly surprised.

My kids drew/colored these for their baby sister. I have them hanging on the wall by the changing table.

Kissing and hugging my kids is better than dessert.

Sorry I Took so Long

But I've had my hands full, as I'm sure you can guess.

C is a really good baby. Mighty B. and Precious Daughter spend a fair amount of time fighting over her. They kiss and touch her almost constantly and squabble over whose turn it is to hold her.


Yesterday's battle surrounded who steered the stroller through the undersized and overcrowded Trader Joe's while we did our food shopping. Precious Daughter's nose was seriously out of joint because we let Mighty B. Drive, but allowing him that privilege was pure genius on The Oracle's part. It's probably the first shopping trip in two years that didn't leave me hoarse and exhausted from screeching at B. to get back here, get off the floor, or put that back on the shelf.


That's okay, though. Due to unforseen circumstances, Precious Daughter got to do this (just ignore the crayon permanently ground into my living room wall):




Without getting into the gory details, cracked nipples are pure hell on earth. But, hey, my pain is Precious Daughter's gain.

C is very chatty. She grunts and peeps all the time. I don't remember the first two making so much noise this early in the game. Then again, my lousy memory is well documented by now, so who knows?

C also shits constantly. Yup. C and B have/had the nasty habit of eating something for the mere purpose of forcing something out the other end. C grunts and yells and turns crimson as she's muscling her bowels into noisy compliance. Who knew one little behind could produce such output? What makes this extra funny/annoying is that she hates diaper changes. It makes her angry as hell. I've come to the conclusion that she likes lounging around in poopy pants, something I will not permit, so she and I are already enjoying a conflicted relationship.

C does not like sleeping on her back. Unfortunately for her, all this "back to sleep" SIDS prevention stuff has me nearly converted, so C is sleeping on her back until she's able to roll over. She is not happy about it. A short five (and seven) years ago. the hospital wheeled my little bundles in and out of the room all swaddled and propped on their sides with receiving blankets, and my babies were quite content. I even had a side sleeper cushion that I used at home for them. I wish I had it now because it worked well and I'd still trust it enough for C. Unfortunately, I can only find part of it. Grrrr!

She likes sleeping on her belly, especially when The Oracle's holding her. This photo is fuzzy because I snapped it with my cell phone.

One of C's many new nicknames is "Kryptonite." Within moments of cuddling C, the adult cuddler is sapped of any and all ambition and is rapidly drifting off to sleep. What you don't see in the above photo is The Oracle's countenance in its slumbering glory.

But, really, how could you not cuddle this?