Baby Fat

Clark's chubby little thighs are amazing. Delicious. That's the only word I can think of to describe them. They're smooth and soft and warm and... delicious.

If I were a cannibal, I would only eat babies.

Happy 8 Months, Clarkypoo!

Clark turned 8 months old yesterday. My chubby cubby! My sweet little Shorty Talls! Clark is the best baby on the planet. He almost never fusses. He's smiley and happy and cute. I'm short and grumpy and Clark is big and joyful and so outgoing. He's my opposite. I love him. He's perfect.

Allison Update

Henry and Georgia's new baby sister, Allison, has been placed into foster care. She's living in the same foster home as the other baby sister, Eve. I'm glad that they're together.

I heard from someone who heard from someone (we'll see how reliable this information turns out to be) that the kids' mom might get custody of the new baby within the month. If that's true, that means that the judge is ignoring some important evidence that would lead most people to believe that is a bad idea. Also, if the court is willing to let their mom have custody of Allison, I can't imagine why she couldn't have custody of Eve and Georgia, too. (Henry is a slightly different situation and there is more than one argument for why he should not be placed in his mother's care.)

I'm trying not to get overly concerned about what MIGHT happen. Got to just wait and see how this month plays out.

Apricots, Diarrhea

* Clark had his first apricots today. He took a bite, yelled angrily (I'm pretty sure he was trying to say, "What the what, lady? That looks like carrots but it is NOT carrots that you just fed me."), and then ate it all up.

* Around 11:30 last night Elise woke up in a puddle of diarrhea. Super sick Elisey baby. I had to shower her off and she was shaking and cold. It was awful. She was talking crazy talk.

"Where's the yellow?"

"What yellow?"

"Where's the yellow, Mommy? Where's the YELLOW?"

"I don't know. What yellow?"

"Georgia's at school?"

"No, honey. It's nighttime. Georgia's in bed. Sleeping."

"In her room?"

"Yes."

"Her teacher in her room? In her bed?"

"Um. No. Just Georgia. Just Georgia in her bed. It's nighttime. No teachers. No school."

"Butterflies are in bed?"

"Yes, Elise. The butterflies are sleeping."

"Butterflies have wings. And antennas. And the butterflies make cocoons."

"Yes."

"I need peanut butter..."

She was fine this morning. Poor baby. She was so sick last night. Crying and upset. We got her cleaned up, gave her some peanut butter crackers and water, and she went back to sleep. Maybe she just ate something funny. Or maybe it was all that disgusting dirty butt bathtub water that she's always trying to drink finally catching up with her. Who knows. We'll see if any of the other kids catch it.

Confession of a Foster Mom

I totally internet stalk my foster kids' parents. Facebook, MySpace, whatever. Henry and Georgia's mom is online, Bo's mom is online, Dolly and Ethan's parents are online. I get to see how my former foster kids are doing because of course everyone posts about their kids. Also, it's sometimes surprising what people will reveal about themselves.

Carrots, Crawling

Clark started eating carrots two days ago. No big deal. No reaction to the new taste. He ate his first spoonful as if he's been eating carrots his whole life.

Also, Clark is getting better at crawling. He still army crawls with his tummy flat on the ground, but now he's started getting his knees up under his hips and his little bottom way up in the air. It's just a matter of time before he figures out that he should push his chest off of the ground by using his arms.

Elise never army crawled and neither did Georgia, so there's a small part of me that wonders if what Clark's doing is okay. He does have strength in his arms, though, so I don't think he's too weak to support his own weight. I think he's just taking a different route on his way to crawling. The hyper-masculine "ARMY CRAWL" route.

Welcome, Allison!

Henry and Georgia's new baby sister was born recently. Healthy, as far as I know, and full-term (Eve was a preemie). I'll call the new baby "Allison." It will be decided within the next few days if Allison will be placed into foster care or if the court will give the kids' mom a chance to try to care for her on her own. If you're the praying kind of person, pray that whatever happens is what's actually best for baby Allison.

Still Waiting To Find Out What's Going On

The termination of parental rights hearing for Henry is still set for mid-July. The State is undecided as to whether the trial will include Georgia, Eve, and the new baby. Right now everyone's just kind of waiting to see what the lawyers decide to do about the upcoming hearings.

Oh, and Georgia's dad has volunteered to take a DNA test to make sure he's the dad for the newest baby. Yikes. Well. I guess that if there's any question as to paternity, it's best to resolve that issue as soon as possible.

No Period

I thought I was getting my period. I had a little tiny bit of blood... then nothing. Weird. I checked that my IUD is still in and it is. Don't know what the blood was all about.

Clark is almost 8 months old. I got pregnant with Clark when Elise was 8 months old. So if Clark were Elise, this would be implantation bleeding. But Clark isn't Elise, and I have an IUD, and I need to quit worrying about that sort of thing because it's silly and there's nothing to worry about. Ugh.

Long Weekend

Happy Memorial Day, folks.

Man. Long weekends with four cutie patooties WEAR ME OUT. I love the kids, of course. I like spending time with them. But I feel like a zombie. Actually, zombies look more rested then I do right now.

Biting, Broken

* Clark has turned into a biter already. He only bites my left shoulder while I hold him on my hip; he never bites anyone else or at any other time. It's not out of anger or excitement or anything like that-- he just does it absentmindedly. If I catch him starting to go in for a chomp and say, "Clark!" or "No, no!" he'll stop and smile at me. Clark only has two little teeth and he's already leaving marks on my skin.

* Whenever Elise gets a cut or a scratch now, she cries, "I broke my skin!" It must be very frustrating to be crying out in pain and then have people start smiling at you like you just did something cute.

Speech, Speech!

I suspected that Georgia's speech is delayed. It's clearly not as delayed as Henry's, but her words sound pretty mumbley sometimes, so I had her evaluated at the speech therapist's office where Henry now goes. Yep. Yep. She's delayed.

She's pretty much on target for understanding what other people say, but she's about 5 months behind in being able to communicate with others.

SO

She'll be taking speech therapy 3 times each week, as well. (You'll recall that Henry is now going 3 times per week for an hour each session.) I asked the receptionist if I could just get my own parking space out front, or maybe start leaving a toothbrush and a small pillow in her desk drawer. I think she's considering it.

Ravi Tavi

Elise has been talking for the past two days about an imaginary friend. She is a bubble gum chewing dinosaur named Ravi Tavi. Or so I thought. In a Tyler Durden-esque twist, Elise revealed this morning "Elisey is Ravi Tavi."

She also lied to Henry's doctor this morning and told him her name is Pearl. She's turning into a very weird kid.

Eat It; The Wave

* Clark had his first oatmeal a couple of days ago. He seemed to like it a lot. I make the oatmeal myself instead of buying the baby oatmeal; I just grind the dried rolled oats in a coffee grinder and cook the oatmeal on the stove, making sure to stir it often because it will clump otherwise. That's what I fed Elise, too, when she was little.

* Today was kind of hectic, so dinner tonight included (fake meat) corndogs. I pulled the stick out of the kids' corndogs and cut the doggies up-- you know, hotdogs are a choking hazard-- but I left my stick in my own corndog. Elise noticed this and pointed at my plate, asking, "What's that?"

"It's a stick."

Elise sat and looked at me for a long time. Then, in a confused and rather surprised tone she asked, "Mommy? You eat STICKS?"

* Clark started waving today! He waves mostly for hello. I guess he usually gets kissed when one of us has to go bye bye, so he doesn't get it yet that you can wave good bye, too.

Period.

Looks like I'm starting to get my first post-baby period. Or it's implantation bleeding. Ha ha. (NOT funny.)

Three Little Booties; Georgia's Stats

* Elise, Georgia, and Clark are now all wearing the same sized diaper. Size 4, in case you were wondering. My 7 month old is as big in the waist (and booty) as his two year old sisters.

* Georgia got measured today. She's 34.5 inches tall and weighs 30 lbs. That makes her around the 60th percentile for height and around the 83rd percentile for weight. The nutritionist that I was talking to said that Georgia looks proportionate and not overweight, so the discrepancy in her percentages is nothing to worry about. She said that she looks like the kind of kid who will outgrow that little bit of "extra" weight. Georgia has always been really dense. She doesn't look fat at all, but when you pick her up it's like "Do you have rocks in your pockets or something?" Georgia's biological parents are both very tall and slender, so I bet she will be too.

Elise the Teacher

Elise likes to show Clark baby sign language signs. He'll be eating breakfast and Elise will be sitting next to him saying, "More, baby Clark? MORE? MOOOOOOORE?" and doing the sign with her little hands. We've been showing Clark "milk," "eat," and "more" and Elise is vigilant about making sure that he sees someone doing those signs at the appropriate times. Very cute. It makes me feel proud of her that she wants to help him learn.

Cat Update

Both of my sick kitty cats' blood work results have come back. They're doing better than I expected. Yay!

Beanie, my lady cat with chronic kidney disease, has to have blood work done every three months in order to monitor her disease. That is not cheap, by the way. But anyhow, the values of the stuff that they test her for with regard to her kidneys have held steady, which is really really good because if the numbers increase then her disease is getting more serious. Chronic kidney disease in cats doesn't get better, and the best you can hope for is that it doesn't get worse too fast. So Beanie is doing awesome, basically.

The vet discovered that Beanie does have a urinary tract infection, which is uber common in cats with kidney disease. So she's on antibiotics right now. Another pill she has to take every day. She already takes two pills each morning (for her kidneys), so what's one more?

Man, urinary tract infections are awful. How miserable it must be to be a cat and not even be able to say, "Hey. Um. It burns when I pee. Can someone do something about that?"

My other sick cat, Saucy, was having trouble with some values that they tested for regarding his liver. But this second and most recent round of blood work came back showing an improvement. He's still not out of the woods, but basically the vets are pretty sure he's not, like, in the throes of advanced liver cancer. So, we'll check his blood again in a few months and hope that there's still more improvement and that basically nothing has to be done.

Cats, man. Not as low maintenance as you might think.

Sink or Swim

Henry is hating swimming lessons this summer. We're going to a different place than last year, and plus Henry's age group is supposed to have no parent participation in the pool. I don't think Henry is ready to go it alone yet. During the first class this summer, Henry fell in the pool while his teacher was busy with another student and he had to be rescued by the lifeguard. So yeah. I think we're going to move him into a class with younger students so that Husband can get in the pool with him. It will be less stressful for EVERYONE involved.

Barley

Clark had barley for the first time two days ago. Ate it right up. The texture is pretty chunky compared to rice cereal, so I wasn't sure if he'd eat it. No problem for my chubby cubby! He's not one of those babies that gets overly concerned with texture. Not yet, anyway.

Learning About Plants

A sweet potato that I bought a while ago started sprouting, so I put it in some water in a mason jar, set it on the kitchen window, and decided to use it as a learning opportunity. All of the kids happily check its progress each day, but Elise is most interested in it. She calls it "Elisey's potato plant." She looks at its leaves and the little roots that are growing. If you ask her what a plant needs to live, she will tell you, "Sunshine. Water to drink." My little scientist.

Present Suggestion for a Pregnant Lady

A long time ago, well before I ever thought I might get pregnant, my friend Kelli gave me a sarong as a gift. It is very pretty and while I always liked it, I never appreciated it so much as when I was pregnant with Elise and Clark.

A sarong is the perfect piece of pregnant lady clothing because you tie it around yourself, so it adjusts to your size. And it isn't full of elastic or buttons or anything uncomfortable. I especially liked wearing my sarong as a skirt, because nothing else ever fit me properly around my middle. It's obviously not something you can wear to the office, but around the house on the weekends it was perfect. And the fabric is so light, I didn't even mind wearing it when I was in the midst of my big bellied hot flashes.

Need a unique pregnant lady gift idea? I suggest a sarong.

Clap Your Hands

Clark started clapping his hands yesterday. Super cute. I mean, it's seriously adorable. He gets all smiley and crinkly-eyed and just flaps those little arms until the hands start smacking. I love it.

Pets

I grew up having pets in my home. At different times we had a dog, a cat, a rabbit, three different birds, and various fish. I think my sister had a mouse once for a few days until my mom made her get rid of it. I'm really glad that I had pets as a child.

I wouldn't go so far as to say that kids NEED pets in order to have a well-rounded childhood. But having pets certainly teaches you some valuable lessons. Since most pets have such a short lifespan, children have the opportunity to really understand what life is all about in a gentle but very personal way. Kids can learn about love, companionship, responsibility, respect, sickness, and eventually death. Having a pet gave me the so-you're-trapped-here-too-? camaraderie that I needed when I was mad at my parents and sisters, the understanding that every living thing has feelings, the pride of learning to care for something that depended on me, and the insight that you can only control yourself and can't control other people/things.

I have four cats now. I love them dearly. Our skinny old girl cat, Beanie, has chronic kidney disease. She's been doing okay so far, but the reality of the situation is that at best she probably only has a couple of years left. And our orange boy cat, Saucy, is getting sick now, too. He got some blood work done today... I'm bracing myself for what I'm sure will be bad news when the vet calls with the results in a few days.

The kids are still pretty young. I know that they'll notice if one of the cats is gone, but I don't think they'll immediately understand the finality of the situation if any of the cats dies. They've seen dead animals on the side of the road and I've told them the truth, that the snake (or whatever) is dead. I've said that being dead is like sleeping for a long time and never waking up. But I don't just say that the animal is asleep, because I don't feel like that's honest. I try to be honest. Shots hurt (but they make you hurt less in the long run than if you didn't get them), mommies and daddies disagree (but that's okay and we still love each other), and animals die (but that's just part of life).

Despite all of the pets that I've had and lost, I'm still really upset to think about losing one of my fluffy little fur babies. "Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all," right? But I'm still going to cry my eyes out when I get that call in a few days.

Mother's Day Tears

When we refer to any of the kids' relationships to one another, we just say brother or sister. If we want Elise to hold Henry's hand, we say "hold your brother's hand." We don't say foster brother or foster sister because they really aren't old enough to understand what that means, and anyhow, they've grown up together so they're about as sibling-ish as you can get without the official legal status. There's no talk of "maybe someday Georgia will live with us forever" or "maybe Henry will be your real brother" or anything like that. But still, I think that the kids know somehow that everything isn't perfectly settled in their family life.

Today as I was tucking Elise in for her nap, she wrapped her arms around my neck, looked at my face, and sweetly asked, "Georgia be my sister?"

"Hmm?"

"Georgia be my sister?"

"Do you want her to be?"

Smile. "Yes. I do."

"I want that, too."

Mommy tears. I didn't let Elise know that I was crying, but I was.

Big Boy Bath

Now that Clark can sit up so well on his own, tonight I gave him his first bath in the regular bathtub. I tossed a little rubber ducky in there with him, and he was super happy. Splash splash splash! He looked like a cat pawing at water. Sort of like, "Hmmm. What's this? Do I like this or is it scary?" Then he smacked the water really hard and some splashed up into his face. He got sad about that for a second, but then he went back to exploring. Overall, though, it was a good experience for him. He'll be happy when it's time for his next bath.

A Day of Firsts

Clark ate peas for the first time today. Loved them. He was slow going at first with the solid food thing, but now he loves to eat.

Also, I brushed Clark's teeth with an infant toothbrush for the first time tonight. He chewed on it. The big kids were fascinated with the fact that the baby was brushing his teeth when they were. It was cute.

Time Cover

I guess there is a big flap about this new Time magazine cover photo:

It's a mom breastfeeding her 3 year old.

I don't understand why anyone cares. I mean, fine, critics of this photograph, you don't want to breastfeed your own 3 year old. You feel like that's "too old." I get that. But why do you care if anyone else does it? Seriously. What difference does it make? People are so judgmental about the weirdest stuff.

What I think people really mean when they say, "That kid's going to need therapy because his mom is psycho" or whatever is, "I don't understand that and therefore it makes me uncomfortable." People don't turn into sociopaths because they were breastfed as toddlers. Critics of the photograph, YOU are the ones sexualizing the action, not the three year old. And honestly, as someone who deals on a personal level with kids who actually DO have psycho parents, it's nice to see someone who cares so much about her child that if she is erring at all, she's erring on the side of too much attachment rather than not enough.

Mothers should be able to breastfeed for as long as they want. Loving gay and homosexual couples should be allowed to raise children. And everyone should mind their own f-ing business. Or at the very least, focus their efforts on actually helping kids that really do need help.

Sleep Training Update

Clark has been doing pretty well with sleeping in his bassinet for the first part of the night. Last night he slept in his bassinet from 11:30 until 2:45, with only one brief awakening around 1:30. Not bad. Progress. HOWEVER, at two different points last night both Elise and Henry woke up yelling, "Momma Momma Momma!!!" The big kids don't usually wake up at night-- but they're still awfully young, so every once in a while we have less than perfect nights. I'd say that I get a cumulative total of about 6 1/2 hours of sleep each night. With four little bitties, that's pretty good.

More Goings On

* Clark sat unassisted for about 4 minutes straight yesterday, so I'm officially considering him able to sit up on his own now. Yay! Good job little Babu!

* I weighed Clark Sunday morning and he was two tenths of a pound shy of 22 lbs. Time to get new car seats! I can't carry him around in his infant car seat anymore, as its weigh limit is 22 lbs. We ordered two new convertible car seats online, one for each vehicle.

* Mother's Day came early for me this year! I asked for and received a doormat. Yes. A doormat. But it's really cool! It's an LL Bean Waterhog doormat... and if it saves me even the slightest effort in sweeping our living room floor every day, it will be worth every penny.

* Whenever something surprising happens, Elise now says, "Oh my gosh!" or really it's more like "Omigosh!" It's kind of funny. She knocks over her milk, "Omigosh!" A book falls down off of the shelf, "Omigosh!" Today she used it in a slightly different, but still appropriate, context.

We were at the grocery store and Elise was walking a few steps behind me. I kept an eye on her by frequently looking over my shoulder, but she was occasionally out of my immediate view. Well, as we were walking down the pet food isle, I turned around and she was gone. Gone. GONE. No Elise. Holy shit. So I yelled (not even trying to maintain my composure) "ELISE!!!" about four times in quick succession and then she pops her head out of the bottom shelf of the giant bags of dog food, which she had decided to climb.

I grabbed her and hugged her and told her, "Do you see how scared I am? I couldn't see you and I thought you were lost or that somebody had taken you away from me. If you ever really got lost, I would cry forever. Please stay where I can see you. I love you so much. I was really scared."

And she hugs me back and says, "Omigosh. Omigosh, Mommy. I so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. Omigosh. I so sorry."

I Am This Goose

I've been watching a momma goose for several weeks. No matter what time of day I would arrive, there she was, sitting on her eggs.

She would hold her mouth open, panting in the heat of the afternoon. I understand, momma goose! You want to get up and go anywhere else-- somewhere with shade, somewhere with drinking water, somewhere that you can sleep comfortably-- but taking care of your babies is more important than all of that.

Occasionally she would stand up and tenderly rearrange the pine straw that she used to build her nest. She protected and cared for her four little eggs, keeping one eye on me as I watched her incubate her babies.

Today she was gone. The nest was empty, except for part of the shell of one of her hatched eggs.

Good luck, momma. Good luck babies. I wish you the best.

Wiggle-Crawl

Clark started wiggle-crawling tonight! That's what we're calling it, anyway. It's sort of like an army crawl with his tummy still flat on the ground, except that Clark's arms and legs aren't quite coordinated enough to say that it's officially an army crawl. He rocks his body around and scrabbles with his legs, but there is definite forward movement.

Yay, baby Clark! I'm so proud of you!

DNA Test Results

Got my "genetic ancestry" DNA test results! I actually have had them for about 2 weeks and I didn't know it because for some reason I gave the company an email address that I never check. They email you the results. Anyway, my report was actually quite full of surprises so I'm glad that I did it. Not that it MEANS anything, really. Where your ancestors from, like, 1000 years ago originated has nothing to do with your cultural identity. People move all around. All over the world, as you know. But still, it's cool.

Toofie #2

Clark's second tooth is here! No unusual fussiness or anything. He woke up a little more often than normal last night, but overall his teething has gone pretty smoothly so far.

Make It Work

I took Henry to get evaluated at a new speech therapist the other day. It was good-- lots of insights and information. But the long and the short of it is that he needs to have three one hour sessions every week. Three. Three days each week I need to bring him to the office for a therapy session. The therapist's office is waaaaaaaaay over on the other side of town. Of course we'll make it work. We'll do what we have to do. But holy cow, my days are already busy. This is going to take some getting used to, especially since I'll have Elise and Clark in tow.

Pears and Poop

Clark ate pears for the first time today! He really liked them-- cried when he'd finished eating the pears I'd made him. I gave him some rice cereal after that, but I could tell that what he really wanted was more pears.

Also, I think I gave him a black eye. I was trying to stop the kids' toy box from falling on him, and I accidentally poked him in the eye. Hard. Now Clark has a dark red half-circle under his eye. God. I feel like a rotten mommy. I was trying to protect him and I ended up hurting my sweet little Babu.

In other news, here's how Everyone Poops has changed our lives: Elise now thinks it's appropriate to shout about poop while we're in public. I took the kids into the bathroom stall with me while we were at the mall today. So it was a really big, busy bathroom. I had to go. I couldn't wait. And Elise was kind enough to notice just what I was doing. She shouted over and over again, "Mommy pooping! Mommy pooping! You pooping, Momma! Yay Mommy! Mommy pooping!" On and on and on. Yelling. No amount of redirection or shushing would make her stop. It will be funny to me tomorrow. Today I just feel kind of embarrassed.

Everyone Poops

My new favorite kids' book is Everyone Poops by Taro Gomi. If you don't happen to have a copy for yourself, here it is on youtube:



I checked it out of our library for Elise, since she's still being weird about pooping-- she's trying to hold it in now, I think, and giving herself tummy aches. She loves the book. Hopefully it's helping her be more comfortable with the idea of pooping.

Also, Elise and I were just talking about pooping. She said, "The cat poop in the mailbox."

"Litter box."

"Mailbox, Mommy."

"Our cat poops in the litter box."

"MAILBOX!"

Fine. Okay. It's silly to argue with a two year old. We'll just revisit that concept later.

Dinner Baby, Sleep, Elise Saying

Clark is eating breakfast and dinner now. We've been feeding him dinner for maybe a week or so. He's a hungry little guy!

Also, Clark slept in his bassinet for two hours last night! Yay! He woke up around 1:30 am and I wouldn't nurse him, which made him very mad but he did go to sleep eventually. Power through! He'll get the message soon enough! And when he does I can sleep sleep sleep through the night.

And now for the latest Elisey-ism:

Whenever we arrive at the grocery store Elise asks, "Elise can walk?" because she doesn't like riding in the cart anymore. Well, this weekend we stopped at the grocery store just long enough for Husband to run in and grab some cat food. We told the kids as we drove through the parking lot that only Daddy would be going inside.

As we all waited in the car for Husband to come back, Elise asked me, "Elise can walk?"

"Elise, we aren't going inside. We're waiting here. Daddy will be right back."

Pause.

"Elise can walk?"

"We aren't going in."

"Elise can walk?"

"Walk where, Elise?"

"THE GROUND, MOMMY!"

Duh, Mommy.

Time to Train

Clark has been sleeping in our bed throughout the night ever since he got chicken pox. Sick babies need their mommies and mommies need to cuddle their sick babies. But then I never went back to putting him in his bassinet. He just stayed in bed with us.

Ugh. I know better. He's my second biological baby, after all. How did I let this happen?

The thing is that when they're really little and you know they're going to wake up anyway, it's just SO easy to pop a boob in their mouth and let everyone fall back to sleep quickly. You have to get up every few hours no matter what, so might as well make the duration of the times awake as short as possible, right? But now Clark is old enough that he can sleep though the night, and I need to get him on that path. He's used to waking up every few hours and getting a boob shoved in his face, which gives him comfort and lets him fall back asleep. He doesn't eat a full meal, he just nurses for a few seconds and drifts back off again. It's a habit, not a necessity. And I need to break him of that habit. I want to sleep for longer than two hours uninterrupted. It's time.

We've been working on sleep training for the past few nights. Tonight will be the fourth night, I think. So far the rules are that Clark has to stay in his bassinet for at least one hour, whether he's sleeping or crying, starting from the time we go to bed AND no nursing from midnight until 2 am. Clark actually slept in his bassinet for about 2 1/2 hours last night. Woohoo! Hopefully that was not just a fluke but a new standard. We'll see how tonight goes.

Vulva Ears

Henry had a bracelet on yesterday. He was trying to tell me something and the word he was saying sounded like "oval." I'm 99% sure that's not what he was saying but sometimes I intentionally mishear the kids, say the word I wish they had said, and then praise them for using that word. Positive reinforcement. Then they're more likely to use that word again to get the praise. It's a little vocab building technique I like to use every once in a while.

So, Henry said his mumbly word and I said, "Oval?" Henry mumbled again and again I said, "Oval?"

But then Elise mishears me and says, "Vulva hole? Vulva hole, Mommy?"

"What! No. Oval."

"Vulva hole! Hahahahahaha! Vulva hole! Hahahahahahahaha!"

THAT IS NOT WHAT I SAID! What the flipdoodle?! I would never say "vulva hole." Ugh! Elise hears vulvas and penises in everything. She's had genitalia on the brain lately, too, because she recently asked me if our cat Vincent has a "teeny penis."

Please, please, please just let her not say "vulva hole" in public in front of strangers. Please.

Baby Girls' Hair-- Combs

My girls' hair is on two different ends of the texture spectrum. Elise's hair is straight, thin, and fine. Georgia's hair is kinky and coarse. I'm just now figuring out that I can't use the same tools and products on both of their hair. This is a big revelation for me because, as I've mentioned before, I've hardly ever given much thought to styling hair, including even my own hair. Other than to dye my hair bright colors during my late teens and early 20s... but that was less about hair and more about asserting control over my own body and advertizing my independence. How did I go from "screw you, status quo! I'm in art school-- now I'm going to draw pictures of all of society's failings!" to passing my state's bar exam and then quitting my job to raise a pile of children all in less than 10 years? It was a slippery slope, indeed.

I digress.

Anyhow, hair.

Georgia's mom gave her this little baby hair brush set a while ago. A brush with bristles so soft that it had zero effect on Georgia's hair and a comb with lots of tiny little teeth. I should have realized that if the brush was not right for her hair, maybe the comb wasn't right for her hair either. But I assumed the opposite. "Oh, this must be the kind of comb you use on coarse, curly hair," I thought. I have hairs fall out when I brush my own hair, so I assumed that the little hairs that would come out when I combed Georgia's hair were totally normal.

Nope! I was damaging her hair. Breaking it. Within the past month I discovered that I should be using a wide-toothed comb on Georgia's hair. Coarse and kinky hair like hers is very fragile and it easily snags and breaks. Elise's wispy little hairs need a comb with narrow teeth, but Georgia's hair needs a comb that can gently detangle it.

So now we have Elisey combs and Gigi combs. The big comb works so much better on Georgia's hair. Glad we got that figured out.

What Is Wrong With You People?

As if on cue, right after posting about child abuse, Husband and I called the cops tonight on some stranger we saw hurting a little kid. We were driving away from a business we'd just left when we see a lady dragging this kid out by the collar of his shirt. You know, bad form. But we've all been there. For all I know the kid just spit in her face or something.Then she slams the kid up against a railing along a walk way. She slams him again and again and again. Yikes, right? She slaps him. Now I'm thinking "Holy crap." Then she grabs his collar again and spins him across the walk way and throws him into the opposite railing. That was pretty much when I realized that this definitely needed to be reported.

The kid wasn't resisting the lady. He was just sort of cowering. Crying. But not trying to fight her in a way that could lead to me maybe misinterpreting the situation. She was bullying him and he was taking it. If that's what she does in public, I can't even imagine what she does in the privacy of their home.

I wonder if the cops went to the business in time to find them. I wonder if the kid got in more trouble with that lady some how because the cops showed up. I wonder if that lady is already being watched for child abuse and the kid is going to get taken away from her.

That poor little kid. I wish he could know that someone saw what's happening to him and that it's not okay for someone to hurt him like that.

Clark's First Tooth!

Clark got his first tooth today! Bottom right. That explains his little bit of fussiness lately.

Babies look so different once they start getting teeth. I wonder how Clark will look with chompers.

Horrible Statistic

I just heard on the radio that a child dies of abuse or neglect in the US an average of every 5 hours. DIES. That's crazy.

Henry was almost one of those children. Henry, who is so sweet and kind that he brings Baby Clark his favorite toy cars to play with, could have died a year and a half ago.

The hearing regarding the termination of Henry's mother's parental rights is scheduled for mid-July. The State wants to terminate her rights to Henry and Susannah. Three months. A lot can happen in three months...

Butternut Squash, Reverse Crawl

* Clark had butternut squash for the first time yesterday. He liked it! Avocado and butternut squash were Elise's favorite baby foods, too. It's weird, though, that Elise doesn't like either one of those foods now. Maybe little babies just like the blander foods, then as they grow they like sweeter and more savory foods. That's my theory.

* Clark figured out yesterday that while he's lying on his back he can bend his knees, dig his heels into the ground and push off, thereby sliding himself a considerable distance backwards. I call this his "reverse crawl."  It makes him very happy when he does it.

Kinda Famous

Georgia had a doctor's appointment the other day. Henry and Georgia go to a clinic with many doctors and nurse practitioners. Instead of Georgia's usual doctor we saw a nurse practitioner that I've never met before. A few minutes into the exam the nurse says to me, "You know, you're kind of famous around here."

Oh, really? The short redhead with four small children, two with light skin and two with brown skin, who drags her babies through your clinic every few weeks as they yell and careen off the walls is "famous around here"? I'll just bet.

"Oh, yeah? Because I have so many babies?"

"Not just that," she smiled, "but also you're so good with them. You do a great job."

Oh.

Cool.

Thanks.

I'm only writing this down so that on my crappiest of crap days when I feel like I must be the worst mom in the world I can remember that in one little microcosm of our community, I have at least successfully created the illusion that I have my shit together. And that's as good as it gets for a mom with four kids under four years old.

Still Not the Same

Well, my weight has been back at 115 for about a week now, but my body does NOT look the same as it did pre-babies. You know what? After raising four small children all day long, I'm way too tired to care. I'm going to drink a glass of chocolate milk, watch an episode of Mad Men on Netflix, and try not to think about my flabby belly.

It's Sad

Apparently Henry and Georgia's mom got the news recently that things aren't going so well for her case and it's looking unlikely that she'll get her kids back anytime soon, if ever. As I've said before, she's a very nice person. I feel so bad for her. I can't imagine someone telling me that I'm incapable of parenting my children. That they'd be better off living with someone else. There's no doubt that she loves her kids and wants to be with them. It's really, really sad.

We met the kids' grandma recently. Their mom's mom. She was there during a visit we had with their older sister, Susannah. I'll call this grandma Granny B. Well, Granny B seems nice and very friendly. Of course, this is simply our first impression of her. There was a time in her life when she made some poor choices and had her own kids removed from her and placed in the foster care system. Granny B got her kids back, though. Henry and Georgia's mom was in foster care while she was growing up, and now her own kids are in foster care. It's a terrible cycle. I just hope that the cycle can be broken for Susannah, Henry, Georgia, Eve, and the new baby. I hope that they all can be given better opportunities, a stronger support system, and more positive role models than their mother and their grandmother had.

Clark Update

Clark has been kind of cranky lately. I think he's teething. I don't feel sharp little bumps under his gums like the teeth are about to break through, but I feel big bumps where his bottom front teeth must be starting to push up. Thank God we don't remember what it's like to teethe because it seems like a terrible experience.

Also, he's gotten really good at spinning around in circles on the floor. He can roll all over the place now, of course, but he also gets on his tummy and then pulls himself in one direction or another with his arms so that his belly stays stationary but his head and feet spin circles. He's getting more and more mobile.

Lessons; A Little Hole

#1

Today I got the kids all signed up for their summer lessons. Swim lessons for everyone! Yep, even Baby Clark. And gymnastics for the big kids. Fun, fun, fun, busy, busy, busy.

#2

Tonight as I was diapering Elise she reached down and touched her bottom.

"Mommy! What's that, Mommy? A little hole!"

I was being distracted by another one of the kids. "Hmm?"

"A little hole down there, Mommy! What is that?"

"That's where your poo poo comes out."

"Oh! I have a little hole for poo poo! Ha ha ha ha ha ha!"

Thanks for noticing. Now go sanitize your hands.

1940 Census

The results of the 1940 census are now available online. I know you've all been waiting for them to be released. Genealogy nerds.

I found family on both my mother's and my father's side. Pretty cool. There were some interesting tidbits of information in the answers to the questions that the census-takers asked of my family. For example, my grandparents rented their suburban home for a whopping $50 per month in 1940. And that was one of the pricier homes in the neighborhood.

Of course, lover of names that I am, I browsed around. Found some cool ones. Cole Cole. Olive Almond. Brown Freeman. A lady named Edgar Mae. A man whose first name was Mt. Vernon. I love it.

The link to the 1940 census is here

You kind of need to know the street name where the person you're looking for lived at the time. You can't look people up by name.

Tax Return Fraud; It's Not A Big Deal

#1

Someone else has claimed one or both of the foster kids as dependents on their tax return. Bastards! The kids have lived with us for over a year, so there is NO WAY it is an innocent mistake. Basically, this is going to delay our tax return. We'll have to provide proof that the kids live with us and also that we take care of them-- the guardianship letter from the State and a doctor's bill or day care bill or something like that.

I'm so annoyed. A family member could be claiming them. Someone could have sold their social security numbers so that another person can claim them as dependents (this is a popular thing to do as of late, apparently). Or someone could have stolen the numbers somehow. Who knows.

Grrrr.

#2

Tonight as I was tucking Elise into bed she pinched me.

"Ow, Elise!"

"Happy Mommy?"

"No. I'm sad."

"Angry?"

"No. Sad. When you hurt me on purpose it makes me sad. It makes me feel like I want to cry."

Her voice got super sweet. "Oh, Mommy." (pause) "I love you, Mommy."

Yes! I got through to her, I think to myself. And then...

"It's not a big deal, though, Mommy."

"It is a big deal. It makes me sad when you hurt me."

"No, Mommy. It's not a big deal. Just... um... just eat something. Spaghetti. Yeah. Eat some spaghetti, Mommy. Go."

Great. My two year old is encouraging me to be an emotional eater.

Not Funny, Brain!

I keep having dreams that I'm pregnant. Every few days. Super vivid dreams. I can feel the baby moving or feel contractions or whatever is going on in the dream. There always comes a point where I'm suddenly like "No. Wait. How did this happen? I have an IUD. I can't be pregnant. But I am. Oh shit."

Did I say "dreams"? I mean "nightmares."

Dear Baby Jesus... (I'm not religious... I don't know how this works. Is it okay to pray to a baby to make sure you don't have any more babies? Why would I talk to a baby about this, anyway?) Dear middle-aged Jesus-- the older, responsible Jesus with a good job and health insurance and a 401k and appropriate family planning practices-- please don't put any more babies in my uterus. Four small children is pretty much my maximum saturation point. So while the dreams are cute and kind of funny, please cut the crap. If you want to give me dreams about babies, make them dreams with tips on how to style Georgia's hair or some kid-friendly recipes or new ways to organize their closets. Not trying to tell you how to do your job, but I'm just saying that I think we could make better use of your time and mine. Amen.

New Bathing Arrangements

Clark has been taking his baths in the kitchen sink. He's too big for our baby bathtub, which is what Elise used until well after she could sit up on her own. Clark can't sit up on his own yet, but he's way too big to lay down in the baby tub. Now I sit him in the sink and it's small enough and deep enough that he can stay upright without too much of my support.

Clark loves sitting in the water in the sink. He splashes like CRAZY and grabs at the faucet. Soon he'll be too big for the sink, too, so he'd better learn to sit up on his own before too much longer so that I can start bathing him in the regular bathtub. Man. Having a big baby creates strange and unforeseen logistical problems.

P.S. Cute thing that Georgia said today: she saw a lizard and excitedly shouted, "Dinosaur!!!" I didn't correct her.

New Sleeping Arrangements

The crib that Georgia had been sleeping in is now in the trash. So long, crib, you served us well for many years! It was a drop side crib, so we figured that it was time to get rid of it. (As you may know, they are no longer considered safe.) Elise never slept in a crib and neither will Clark, so we won't be replacing it. We only got that crib because foster parents licensed to care for babies have to have one, but we don't have babies anymore, we have toddlers.

We moved Henry's toddler bed into the girls' room and now Elise and Georgia both have toddler beds. Henry is now sleeping in a twin sized bed in his room. Musical baby beds! Except for Clark. Clark is still sleeping in our bed with us.

Food, DNA, etc

* Clark had applesauce for the first time two days ago. He liked the first few bites, then he started making faces every time he'd eat a spoonful. He's still not super enthusiastic about it. Clark is not as eager about eating solid foods as Elise was. You'd think the opposite, given his size.

* Elise loves peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. She'd eat them every day for lunch if I weren't constantly redirecting her desires. Today I decided we'd have a slightly more mature pb&j sammie. We had peanut butter and apple slices in a pita pocket. Yum! Then I got a great idea and for my second sandwich I put peanut butter, honey, and banana slices in the pita pocket. Oh my god. I'm never eating anything else again.

* My DNA test kit arrived yesterday. That was fast! I'll be putting my spit in the mail this afternoon.

* Elise's latest baby song remix, sung this morning while she was lying on my bed (to the tune of Five Little Monkeys): "One little monkey peeing in the bed..."

Medicaid Miracle

Henry's medicaid problems have finally been cleared up! Yay! And now we have referrals to see SEVERAL different kinds of specialists-- an audiologist, an ENT, and a neurologist. I'm so excited. Of course, as they are specialists, the soonest appointment is still over a month away... but it's progress!

Taxes, Etc.

* Holy cow. Four dependents this year (we get to claim the foster kids because they lived with us for the whole year). That makes a big difference on our tax return. Wowzers.

* Henry calls Elise something that sounds like "Edith." He kind of says "Eee-dah." I don't know how he got that out of "Elise"... but Elise answers to it.

* Today at lunch Husband asked Elise what she did this morning. "I kick ladies." She accidentally swung her legs into some women today while she was rolling around on the floor at the library. Of course, Husband didn't know the whole story so it was funny let him sit with that for a minute. "You kicked ladies?" "Yes. I kick ladies. Mmm-hmmm." "Um... Mommy? Was Elise kicking people this morning?..."

Peekaboo

Clark started playing peekaboo on his own yesterday. He grabbed a blanket that was in his lap and pulled it up over his head, so I said, "Where's Clark?" He pulled the blanket back down off of his face and burst into a fit of giggles. So cute. He played that game forever. And he did it several more times during the day, so it wasn't just a fluke.

Babies are so awesome when they begin to become interactive.

DNA

I'm so excited I'm going to pee my pants.

I just ordered a DNA test thingy to "discover my genetic ancestry." You know-- those services that test your DNA, compare it to world populations, and tell you where most of your genetic matches are from.

I've been wanting to do this for years. Literally years. See, I tend not to frivolously spend money on myself. It's just not my style. There are a million more useful things that I could spend that $200+ on... but I've wanted it for so long. About 6 months ago I decided that I would in fact order a kit and pay for the analysis. I decided I would do it and Husband even encouraged me, but I never actually made the order. And then somehow waiting to do it became as much fun as actually doing it. You know what I mean? Delaying the satisfaction of actually ordering the testing kit became a reward in and of itself.

Well, I got past that. I just ordered my DNA ancestry kit.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPP!!!

I'm so excited!

Easter 2012

They loved it! Yay!

Easter Tomorrow!

This year, the Easter Shark is visiting the kids. Last year the Easter Bat brought them a delicious selection of fruit and pancakes for breakfast. But the Easter Shark is leaving them each a breakfast plate arranged to look like a small underwater scene. Cool Whip dyed with blue food coloring is the water, crushed graham crackers and yogurt covered raisins are the sea floor, strips of fruit leather are seaweed, and there is an octopus made with a mini pancake, strips of french toast sticks for legs, and a painted-on face made of chocolate sauce. Yes! I just did a test plate and it was perfect for a toddler.

Also, they'll each get a bag of colored goldfish crackers for later in the day.

Screw candy and eggs. They don't like hard boiled eggs, so I'm not going to waste my time. And they don't need candy. The whole point of Easter when you're a little kid is waking up to a surprise. Surprise! Awesome breakfast waiting for you! You'll want to eat the whole thing, kids! No gross licorice jelly beans or bunnies made of nasty chocolate to ruin the fun!

I told Elise the Easter Shark was visiting tonight and he would leave her a present. I asked her what a shark might leave her to eat. "Fish?" So I said, "Maaaaaaaaybeeeeeee! We'll see tomorrow!"

Boob Update

The night after my second boob attack, I stayed awake from about 11:30 until 1 in the morning forcing milk out of my blocked milk duct. By the time I went to bed, I couldn't really feel any hard spots anymore. I also couldn't really feel my hands anymore, they were so tired. I decided that if there were any hard places when I woke up in the morning and/or if I still felt like I was on the verge of death, I would go to the doctor. Fortunately, I woke up a little sore and tender, but otherwise a-okay.

I think I was maybe a bit dehydrated. Also, I was sick with a head cold and Clark was sick so I had Clark's germs filling up my boobies, plus he was eating less. And there are several stressful things going on in my life right now. It was pretty much the perfect storm for creating boob dysfunction. Any one of those issues can cause your boobs to go haywire, but I had all of that stuff going on. I'm just lucky that my boobs haven't staged a protest and decided to stop working altogether.

I need to take better care of myself. I'm realizing this now.

Clark's 6 Month Check Up

Clark had his 6 month check up today. He's 28 inches tall (95th percentile) and weighs 20 lbs 5 oz (94th percentile). He took his 3 shots like a champ! A little yell when he was getting stuck, but he was perfectly okay after that. What a brave little man!

Half Way to Birthday!

Happy 6 month birthday, Baby Clark!

I can't BELIEVE it's been 6 months already! Taking care of small children makes you feel like you have some sort of memory disorder-- time seems all distorted and even though you know you lived through the whole experience it feels like you weren't present enough or aware enough to have properly absorbed it all.

My happy little ball of fluff. My chubby little cubby. I love you so much, Clark.

When I remembered that today is Clark's 6 month birthday, I cried. I think I have a problem with that.

To celebrate Clark's birth, I baked some cookies... and everyone got to eat them except for Clark. Ha. But we sang to him. He liked that. Then he got to watch us eat cookies and Cool Whip. Thanks for being born, little guy!

Plugged Duct Again

What a miserable experience. Last night I went to bed around midnight and thought to myself as I laid down, "Huh. My left breast kind of hurts." I woke up an hour later in crazy pain. Plugged duct again. It was awful. Is awful. I'm still sick.

I have the best husband in the world. If you have a husband, you might think that yours is pretty awesome. But mine is the best. Really, he is. Husband got up with me at 1 a.m. and stayed awake with me, rubbing my back, icing me down (I was having hot and cold flashes again), constantly refilling my water glass, bringing me Advil (I had a terrible headache and a fever over 102 degrees), drawing me a bath, and just generally providing me moral support. I was shaking like crazy. It was bad. Husband was great.

This time, I could barely express anything. My breast wasn't all full like it was the first time. Just one spot, right in the middle toward the back of my breast was blocked. I still can't get it all out. It HURTS.

I slept a lot today. Husband stayed home and did most of the baby wrangling. I'm super weak. I hope I can get this duct unblocked soon. It seriously messes me up when this happens.

To Further Make My Point

Foster children are eligible for Medicaid. This is good because then the foster parents don't have to worry about medical bills or covering the cost of prescriptions. The downside is the craptastic quality of most of the healthcare providers... but that's a rant for another day.

There are different kinds of Medicaid that cover different things, but foster children are supposed to have the kind that covers the most stuff. Somehow, somewhere along the way, Henry's Medicaid coverage got all messed up. Despite being their guardians, foster parents can't change their foster children's Medicaid info or switch their level of coverage-- someone in Case Manager's office has to do it for us. So aside from not being able to mess Henry's Medicaid info up, I also can't fix other people's mistakes. I can't just call up Medicaid and say, "Please fix this error," but instead I have to wait for someone else who doesn't give a crap about Henry to decide to do their job.

Henry needs ear tubes and his Medicaid coverage was all messed up so we couldn't get a referral to a specialist who can do the procedure. I notified the foster care system of the problem and then I waited. And waited. And waited. Many phone calls and emails later-- we're talking MONTHS later-- I finally get word that his Medicaid has been switched back to the proper level of coverage. Yay!

So I called Henry's doctor's office today, spoke to some administrator or another, explained the situation, and asked if we can get a referral to a specific ear, nose, and throat doctor that I want to work with. I'm all excited. Happy. What a relief!

Then the administrator tells me that, yes, Henry's Medicaid level was switched...

BUT

whoever handled the paperwork put the wrong doctor down. They listed some doctor who isn't even located in our CITY as Henry's primary care physician.

What the f-ing f-bomb?

So not only can I not get a referral to an ear, nose, and throat doctor right now, HENRY CAN'T EVEN BE SEEN BY HIS PEDIATRICIAN!!! Medicaid won't cover it. And he has a doctor's appointment next week. Ha! I can't believe this. I went from not being able to see a specialist to not being able to see a doctor at all.

Do you see why I'm burned out on the foster care system?

Relicensing

Husband and I are in the middle of getting our foster care license renewed. It's a gigantic pain in the butt. Home visits, inspections, fingerprinting, and paperwork, paperwork, paperwork. After everything gets settled with Henry and Georgia, we'll probably take a break from fostering. I'm getting pretty burned out with regard to dealing with "the system." Having four small children is hard enough. Having one with developmental delays complicates things. But then having all of these extra adults I have to deal with-- most of whom are too lazy to do their job properly or in a timely manner-- and have to beg to get anything done for my foster kids is enough to make me feel like I must be a lunatic.

Have you seen this (fake) article in The Onion where Obama asks a crowd at a rally "why on God's green earth would I voluntarily subject myself to this nonsense for another four years?" That's kind of how I (not fake) feel. Being a foster parent is something that I feel is good, something I believe in, and something that I am proud to be a part of. It's just all of these other jokers that are part of the same system that make the whole experience something between unpleasant and unbearable.

There are a bunch of court dates scheduled for this month. Hopefully we'll start getting some idea of what will be going on with the kids soon.

Large and In Charge

I was talking to a mom in Elise's music class the other day and she said her friend had a big baby boy, too. She said that at 14 months, this little boy weighed over 30 pounds. Yikes!!! Please don't do that to me, Clark. Or if you do, please start walking by 8 or 9 months because my back is already sore from carrying you around all day.

My Little Sweet Potaters

Clark tried sweet potato today. He took three bites and threw up. So that's that, I guess.

And some more Elisey-isms:

* Elise is developing quite the sense of humor. Like her mommy and daddy, Elise thinks it is very funny to change the words of songs. I often sing songs to the kids and leave the last word or two off of the end of each line, waiting for them to "fill in the blank." But Elise has started putting whatever words she wants into the song. The other day I was singing 'You Are My Sunshine' and I sung "... you'll never know dear,..." and Elise grabbed my chest and said, "... how much I love BOOBS!"

* Today Elise was in the back of the car, singing to herself. She was trying to sing 'You Are My Sunshine' (this song gets abused a lot) and she said, "The other night, dear, Mommy was drinking..." I guess the cat's out of the bag.

Rock and Roll, Baby Clark!

Clark just turned over from his tummy to his back! Yay, Baby Clark!

He's been turning from his back to his tummy for a while (which is supposed to be harder for babies to do, but Elise went from her back to her tummy first, too) but he couldn't get his big ol' baby body up over his shoulder to turn from his tummy back onto his back. He finally figured it out today. Then he started rolling all over the floor in the girls' room. My little tumbleweed!

Yay!!!

More of the Same

I recently heard that Henry and Georgia's mom is continuing to make bad decisions. Not the kind of decisions that will necessarily affect her case plan or make any difference in court... but bad decisions none the less. Decisions that show that she can't or won't put her children's needs over her own. Sad.

Not Digging the Rice Cereal

Clark had rice cereal for breakfast this morning. His first time. Not impressed. He ate it but he was not at all enthusiastic the way he was with the avocado and the bananas.

Sorry dude. I wish everything you ate could always taste as delicious as avocado. I really do.

Cornrow Breakthrough!!!

I'm so happy. So so happy. I had a breakthrough in learning how to cornrow Georgia's hair!

Here's the deal. I did not learn how to cornrow hair when I was growing up. I barely learned how to braid hair at all. That sort of thing just wasn't on my radar. And the little bit of hair stuff I did learn how to do was all for white girl hair.

For me, at least, braiding white girl hair and braiding coarser, more textured hair is two totally different things requiring two totally different techniques. I was trying to braid Georgia's hair in big, sweeping motions like I had learned to french braid white girl hair. Consequently, Georgia's hair was turning into little french braids, but they didn't lay flat enough to her scalp and I could never seem to get the braids very tight. The rows of hair looked like french braids, but they didn't look like CORNROWS.

I watched some videos on the internet recently and realized that I wasn't holding my hands the right way to make good cornrows. The technique for braiding cornrows is different than it is for french braids. I wasn't holding my fingers in the right positions. I studied and studied a couple of select videos. But I've never been very good at watching someone do a physical action and then imitating it with my own body. Like, I really suck at it. I tried tai chi once and it nearly left me in tears, I'm so bad at trying to imitate movements. Tai chi is supposed to be the opposite of a bringing-you-to-tears kind of stressful situation. I lack a certain awareness of my body, I guess. So I scoured the internet for some sort of written instruction on how to hold your fingers to make cornrows. I could find lots of general directions, but nothing that was explicit enough. Nothing that broke the finger positions and the hand movements down far enough to answer my questions and end my confusion.

So I just started watching those instructional videos over and over again, pausing and rewinding, while I practiced making cornrows with the hair of one of Georgia's dolls.

Then finally I figured it out a little. I managed to make a nice, fat cornrow. I undid the braid and tried to do it over again. And I couldn't get it. GRRRR! But I was encouraged by my one success, and I spent the next day practicing on the doll until my fingers not only figured out how to make the braid, but could remember how to do it over and over again. Muscle memory.

So tonight I cornrowed Georgia's hair. Woo hoo!

On a scale of 1 to 10, my overall skill before the recent breakthrough was about a 2. I'd say I'm about a 5 now. My hair parts still look crappy, the cornrow still isn't quite tight enough, I still can't add the hair in perfectly evenly, and it's hard for me to keep the cornrow straight down the middle of the section of hair that I'm braiding. BUT I'm so so so pleased with my own progress. I feel like less of a loser-mom. Now I'm an at-least-you're-making-progress-mom.

Good Argument

Elise is obsessed with bicycles lately. Today while we were shopping...

Elise: Mommy. I neeeeeeeeeed a bicycle.
Me: You NEED a bicycle?
Elise: Yes.
(pause)
Elise: I need to learn, Mommy.
(pause)
Elise: I be careful.
Me: You're making a pretty strong case. I like that. Daddy and I will talk about it.

How can you say no to such well-reasoned cuteness? Hopefully she really means "tricycle"...

Walks

I really love taking the kids on walks. Elise, Henry, and Georgia are finally big enough that they don't have to ride in strollers, so they run all over the place and do cute things like stop to look at flowers and bugs. Clark loves to be outside, too, and he sits happily in his stroller, looking around. They're all so joyful when we go on walks as a family. Super happy mommy time!

Bananas, A Startling Revelation, Court Documents

* Clark had bananas with milk for the first time today. He looks like a little food critic when he takes his first bite of food every morning. He wrinkles his forehead, rolls the food around in his mouth, pauses, rolls the food around... he looks very thoughtful. He seemed to approve of the the bananas.

* Elise (yelling): "NO HANDS! MOMMY! BEANIE NO HANDS!"
Me: "The cat has no hands?"
Elise: "ALL FOOTS! MOMMY! ALL FOOTS!!!!"

* The necessary paperwork has now been filed with the court so that the hearing to terminate Henry's mom's parental rights can be scheduled. So now it's officially official. The State is moving forward with trying to legally sever Henry from his mother's care.

New Poop

Clark's poop has officially changed to the poop of a solid food eater. It's less runny. More paste-like. And the color of avocado. I know it's just poop, but it seems like some sort of milestone. I guess since babies don't do much for the first few months, any change seems noteworthy.

Clark is still talking up a storm of baah-buhs and mamas. Husband says he said dada a few times (suspiciously, only Husband was in the room when it happened...). Clark has little babbling fits that are super cute and funny. He really seems to want to engage with the older kids and he's working hard to catch up with them.

I love you, Clark!

So Sweet

If Elise accidentally injures someone, she now says, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you." It's so cute that I instantly forgive her.

Folliculitis

Elise has had a rash in her diaper area for a couple of months now. First we tried three different kinds of over the counter anti-fungal creams (all with different active ingredients) one after the other, and they all seemed to be treating the rash initially but then the rash never fully went away. After that, we got a prescription anti-fungal cream and had basically the same result-- what we thought was a little bit of success at first, but the rash was never fully cured. Now Elise's doctor thinks that she might have folliculitis, which is an inflammation at the base of hair follicles.

Elise has always had very sensitive skin. When she was a baby, I could only wash her with Burt's Bees shampoo, or she would break out with dry, red, blotchy skin. If she does have folliculitis, I blame her soft, sensitive little baby skin for it.

She has a new antibiotic ointment to try out and we'll see if that clears up the rash. If not, Elise's doctor will refer us to a dermatologist.

Clark's First Food

Clark ate his first food on Saturday! Avocado with breast milk. He made a little face at first, but then he gobbled it up. He didn't have any solid food on Sunday because we were traveling, but he had some today and he just loved sucking the avocado off his spoon. Big boy! Of course, he likes solid food.

Goal Change

the state has officially changed the goal of henry's case plan from reunification with his mother to adoption. that means that the state will be seeking to terminate his mother's parental rights.

nothing happens quickly in foster-land. there will be court hearings and who knows what else that will now be going on for the next few months. i'll keep you updated.

Great Grandparents

elise and clark got to see their great-grandma today. i never met any of my great-grandparents. i'm so glad that they get to know their great-grandma and that she gets to know them. i wish i knew more about my great-grandparents.

i remember my dad's mom talking about her mother-- i remember her saying that her mother was a very pretty lady, and that she wore tortoise shell combs in her hair. my mom's father's parents grew grapes and made wine, and my great-grandmother refused to speak english and would only speak italian. i don't know much else. i guess i should do some research into my own history. i'm sure i'll find out lots of interesting stuff.

Elise's 2 Year Old Check Up

elise had her 2 year old check up today. she is 34 1/2 inches tall (60th percentile) and weighs 25 lbs 10 oz (35th percentile).

clark got weighed, too. he's 19 lbs 14 oz.

Mama, Mama, Mama

* Clark said "mama" more times today, so it's not a total fluke. Not that he knows what he's saying-- he's just experimenting with sounds. Still pretty cool, though.

* Today Elise said, " Mama, I NEEEEED a bicycle." I said, "How about a tricycle?" and took out Henry's trike and let her ride around the living room. After a few minutes she stops and says, "Mama, I NEEEEEED a motorcycle." Oh, lord.

Mama

Clark has been saying "mama" today!

YEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSS!!! He said mama before dada! Got me a mama's boy!

Go Away, Mommy!

Elise has been refusing to poop on the potty. I know that she's pooping in her diaper because she hides then shouts, "Go away, Mommy!"

I hope she gets over this phase quickly.

Bumped Into Bo, Georgia's Tooth, Etc.

* I opened the door at Georgia's dentist's office today and saw Bo and his mom sitting there. (Bo is the foster son that lived with us for a year, before Henry and Georgia came to live with us.) It was really nice to see them. I'm so glad that we developed a good relationship with Bo's mom because that would have been SUPER awkward otherwise. Yikes! But instead we sat and chatted for about 15 minutes. Bo is doing great, by the way.

* The dentist said that there's not much for us to do about Georgia's chipped tooth right now, other than watch it. Apparently nerve damage and blood vessel damage takes about a month to show up in damaged teeth. I didn't know that. So now we're watching to see if she gets any little pimples or blisters on her gums or any discoloration in her tooth.

* Clark has been saying B sounds for the past few days. Mostly when we're changing his diaper. If Husband or I lay him down, he starts jabbering away, "Buuuuh! Ba ba buuuuuuh!"

* Husband calls Henry "Buddy" a lot. Like, "Hey, Buddy! Don't forget to pick up your shoes!" Elise has picked this habit up, too. But she not only uses "Buddy" to speak to Henry, she also uses it to talk about him. It sounds funny. She'll say, "Mama! Buddy spilled his juice!" or "Buddy won't hold Elisey's hand!" She calls Clark "Babu" sometimes, too, which is my pet name for him. And then one day we were watching an animal show and the narrator started talking about baboons as images of baboons came on the tv-- Elise misheard it as "babu" and thought that was sooooo funny. "Babu, Mama! Babu! Ha ha ha!" Or maybe she's been calling him "baboon" all along and I just didn't hear her correctly...

* Elise woke up just now, after she'd been put in bed for the night. I comforted her and then as I was leaving the room I asked, "Is there anything I can get you?" She said, "Butterfly wings."

Boob-itis

Yesterday Clark didn't nurse as much as usual. As it got later in the day, my right breast really started hurting. By about 4 o'clock I was super-uncomfortable. Clark had nursed some, but not enough I guess, and so I decided to express some milk to relieve the pressure. I was so engorged that I didn't even have to touch my nipple-- I could just touch anywhere on my breast and milk would go shooting out.

I expressed a little bit, but I had to meet a friend so I hurried up and left the house. Clark nursed for a very long time while we were gone, but by the time I got back home I was feeling really awful. The pain in my breast was killing me and I felt a woozy and weak. All of a sudden, I felt sickness just wash over me. I got a headache, chills, I felt even weaker than before. It was terrible.

My breast hurt so badly that I decided I needed to express milk again. I expressed and expressed and expressed. Through tears from the pain, I expressed. I had enough milk in there to feed a baby for days-- it just kept shooting out. And as my breast emptied, I could finally tell that a certain area wasn't emptying at all. I had a hard and extremely painful place that went from just below my armpit to about 3/4 of the way to my nipple. It felt like lots of hard lumps. Some big, some small. As I expressed, I worked those lumps toward my nipple. It hurt. But I figured I must have a blocked duct and the only way to unblock it is to force the milk out.

My breast felt a little bit better after I was done, but my body felt like I'd been hit by a truck. The headache was still there, I was seeing little lights in my peripheral vision, I could barely stand up, I was getting not just chills but hot flashes, too, and I had a fever. Oh man. I put ice on my boob to keep the swelling down and took a nap on the couch.

Then when I got up for bed, I expressed again. I could really feel where the blocked areas were and I knew I just had to work through the pain. I couldn't BELIEVE that milk was still coming out. It was SO MUCH milk! Eventually it felt like all of the hard places were gone, so I went to bed.

I was much, much better this morning. My breast is still a little sore, but nothing like last night. I think I did the right thing by expressing so much milk-- I don't know if the ducts were just blocked for some crazy reason or if I have an infection, but I'm clearly recovering instead of continuing to get worse. What a miserable experience. I'm glad that's over.

Chip

Georgia fell yesterday and bit her tongue and chipped her tooth.

She was sliding out of a chair and didn't quite get her feet underneath of herself. She only fell from as high as she stands, but she was holding a spoon in her hand and I guess she didn't want to let the spoon go and so she didn't do a good job of catching herself. She hit her chin on the floor. She bit through the side of her tongue and chipped her right front top tooth.

The chip isn't that bad, but I'm going to take Georgia to a dentist anyway, just to make sure there are no sharp edges that need to be filed down. Husband took her to the emergency room to have a doctor look at her tongue, and the doctor said it would heal on its own. It isn't a big enough cut to do anything about. I guess tongue stitches aren't very common. I wanted to have a doctor look at it, though, because the wound kept opening up when she'd move her tongue around.

Poor Georgia. She's fine today. A little fussy when she eats, but I guess her tongue still hurts a bit. I'm glad that chipped tooth is a baby tooth.

Well, all of our kids have been to the ER and/or an urgent care facility multiple times now. They keep us busy, that's for sure.

Happy Birthday, Lady Bug!

2 years! Oh man. Happy Birthday to my baby baby. My love. My sunshine. On this night two years ago, I was just meeting Elise for the first time. Nothing that happened before that matters anymore. Elise was born two years ago, and somehow it feels like that's when my life started, too.

How did we celebrate today? We bought a balloon, went to the zoo (Elise calls it the "zoom") and met up with Husband during his lunch break, then while Elise napped I set up the ball pit, and after she woke up she played in the ball pit and then we baked her cake. Elise wanted spaghetti for dinner, so we had spaghetti with fake meatballs and chocolate cake and then she wanted to go to the mall, so we walked around the mall until the kids' bedtime.

It was a lovely day. Elise enjoyed herself. So did I.

Um...

... clark just peed on my boobs.

Growing Like Weeds

The kids won't stop growing. I think it's time to cut off their food supply, because this is getting out of hand. Henry, who isn't even 3 yet is already wearing 4T, Georgia isn't 2 yet and she's wearing 3T, and Clark is 5 months old but he's starting to transition into 12 month sized clothes. Elise is the only one who wears the size of clothing that matches her age.

I went to this huge sale today and bought the kids a bunch of new clothes. For about $100 I got over 40 items of clothing (which sounds like a lot of items, but I was shopping for 4 kids, so it wasn't a full wardrobe for any of them). It wasn't crappy stuff, either. Nice stuff. Yay me. Elise found this shirt with mermaids on it-- it was actually pretty cute but it wasn't her size. I told her it didn't fit her because it was too big, but she sneaked the shirt into the pile of clothes I was going to buy. I didn't see it again until I was already paying. I went ahead and got it... what a weasel!

Baby Baby Baby Ooooh

I don't know what they've been doing at Henry's preschool lately, but for the past week he's been singing "baby baby oh! baby baby oh!" and I'm about 95% sure that he's trying to sing this Justin Bieber song:



We play all different kinds of music for the kids and have dance parties in the living room and whatnot, but Justin Bieber had been intentionally left out of our rotation. Until Henry started singing it all the time. Then we began playing that song for the kids because Henry seemed to really like it. And now everyone in our f-ing house is singing, "baby baby baby ooooooh, like baby baby baby noooooo..." I can't get it out of my head.

Ugh.

Also, Henry and Elise had their first real honest-to-god verifiable conversation ever tonight. Henry bit his tongue while he was eating dinner and started crying. Elise said, "What wrong Henry? Henry? What wrong?" And Henry, through tears, said, "Mouth!" Elise touched her lips and then said, "It your mouth Henry? Mouth?" And then Henry nodded his head. It was pretty awesome. They've talked at each other plenty of times, and one of them has communicated an idea to the other many times before, but the communication only went one direction. This is the first time I've really seen them go back and forth like that.

Elise can totally hold a regular conversation now. You can just sit down and talk to her. It's a lot of fun. Especially if she's leading the conversation, because it bounces all over the place. Here's our conversation this morning over breakfast:

Elise: Baby Clark go to the hospital.

Me: Yes, he did go to the hospital.

E: Mommy with Baby Clark in hospital.

M: I did stay with Clark in the hospital. You stayed at home with Daddy. And you visited Mommy and Baby Clark in the hospital. Do you remember that?

E: Yes. Mommy with Baby Clark. Baby Clark boo boos.

M: Yes. He had boo boos. He's fine now, though. All better.

E: Yes. All better. Baby Clark all better. Oh! Llamas!

M: Llamas?

E: Yes. Llamas live on farm.

M: Some llamas do live on farms.

E: Llamas live on farm. Llamas eat grass. Yes. They do.

M: That's true.

E: Baby Clark hospital. And llamas live on farm. And, oh! Helicopter!...

Nom Nom Nom

Clark wants to eat solid food so badly. He often sits in my lap during meals and he tries so hard to grab my food and shove it right in his mouth. Sometimes he even cries that he's not getting any.

Elise started solid food about a week before she turned 6 months old. I think I'll let Clark try solid food just a little bit before he turns 6 months old, too. I'll probably start him on avacado, like I did Elise. That worked well for us.

Here's Pink In Your Eye

Continuing his crusade to contract every childhood illness as quickly as possible, Clark now has pink eye. My poor little baby.

We tried SO hard to keep him from catching it from the girls. We didn't touch Clark without washing or sanitizing our hands. We didn't let the big kids touch him. We kept all of his toys super clean. Sometimes it's just impossible to keep the germs away. Clark caught the runny nose that the girls had and I think it just backed up into his eyes and then caused a little infection.

As always, Clark doesn't seem to notice. He's his usual bouncy, happy self.

Happy 5 Month Birthday, Clark!

5 months! Clark, you're so amazing and wonderful and beautiful and perfect. Such a happy baby! Always laughing and smiling at me. Cuddling and cooing. I love you so much. I don't even mind the stretchmarks. I'd cover my whole body in stretchmarks to have you as my baby. I'm the luckiest mommy ever.

Hello, Old Wardrobe

I can finally fairly comfortably fit into my old pre-pregnancy clothes. Yes, yes, I still have a couple of pounds to lose. But the real issue was my hips. Clark destroyed my pelvis and my hips were super wide FOR-EV-ER. I honestly was beginning to believe that I would have to buy all new pants. That my hips would never come close to going back to the same size they used to be before babies. And I think that they're still a little bit wider. They probably always will be. But at least I can wear my old blue jeans again.

More Elise Talk

1. Today Elise was brushing my hair. Hesitantly she said, "Hmm... you're looking better, Mommy." Thanks, Elise. I can use all of the help I can get.

2. Today Elise was "reading" Clark a book. She was flipping through the pages of "The Color Kittens" and talking about what was on each page. About halfway through she said, "Oh! I forgot to mention something." No, I thought, I must have misheard her. That's a fancy thing for someone her age to say. Then she flips back a few pages and leans over to Clark and says it again. "Baby Clark, I forgot to mention something..."

3. Elise is very into figuring out who eats what. According to her, cats eat meat. Cows eat grass. Dolphins eat water. Elise eats apple juice. And then tonight, "Caterpillars eat birds."

ABC Song

This is the kids' favorite thing to watch on youtube:



It's totally annoying at first. But it'll grow on you.