I married a playground bully

A few weeks ago we had a kid's birthday party to go to at the park. Ryan had taken Lincoln over to the playground to play and started waving some bubbles around for Lincoln to chase (I won't explain why Ryan had bubbles on him, he just did). Usually Lincoln would have LOVED this, but at the park with a playground calling his name, he ran off to bigger and better things.

You would think Ryan would have put the bubbles away since his own child wasn't interested in them, but no. Not in this case. There was this random boy, maybe 5 years old, who saw them and went crazy over the bubbles, like real crazy excited. He started chasing the bubbles and laughing and swatting the bubbles with this sweet balloon sword he had with him. Ryan, being the thoughtful guy he is, kept the bubbles flowing for this random little bubble-loving boy.

This little boy was chasing a particular bubble. Unfortunately, like many other kids, he wasn't looking where he was going. Alas, the inevitable happened. He biffed it. He biffed it real good. He didn't just biff it though, he biffed it and landed on his rad balloon sword and POP! followed by loud crying.

The mother came running over to her son to console him, which was the exact moment I started walking away from the crime scene. Picture this: the crying boy rubbing his hurt leg and realizing his balloon popped, the mother dusting him off and probably giving Ryan the "stink-eye" for inadvertently hurting her child, and then there was Ryan. My 6'7 husband with a bubble wand in his hand who suddenly (because Lincoln wasn't by his side and his wife was slowly distancing herself) looked like some creeper who came to the park by himself, armed with a bubble wand, luring little children so he can crush their spirits, and in this case, destroy sword balloons.

Lesson to be learned here children: watch where you are running and leave your sword balloons at home.

Anyway, onto my boys. who just so happened to celebrate 2 years and 2 months this past week. :) I'll exclude the picture where Lincoln actually did poke Simon's eye out. And because grandma is my one faithful blog reader, I already know I'm going to get a phone call about how I need to keep an eye (pun intended) on Lincoln more so that he doesn't hurt Simon because Simon is a like a little baby bird that is fragile... Don't worry grandma, he still has another eye that's working okay!!!!! :)

And a random purchase of buying a remote for our camera turned into quite a battle with Lincoln. Once I showed him what it did, he would not hand it over. Lots of random pictures with the top of Lincoln's head, like this one. 

He did manage to get a nice one of all three of us...thanks to my inconspicuous death grip I had around his waist so he would stay on my lap. You think this smile is from soaking in the love I have for my two boys? Yes, but more so a "look who's in control now" smile. 

 Life is good with this ridiculously good looking 2 month old of mine. 

RIP white onesie

See this white onesie I so foolishly placed on my child. It's now in our garbage can. Let me explain why.....

^^^^^^ Lincoln's hair is a large target to photograph around... 

CHECK OUT THIS STUD MUFFIN ^^^ 

I don't do laundry often. I like to let it pile high and wide and have us all run out of clothes, towels, underwear, and socks before I do laundry. The other day, after I had gone through the ENTIRE house and washed everything, I was quite pleased our laundry situation was taken care of for awhile. Why is it, the moment I finish all our laundry, Simon decides he wants to massacre his clothes?

Poop mid-diaper change is what killed this white onesie. I had no other clothes to wash with it and there was no way I was doing anymore handwashing (too much of that lately). Thus, it's in the garbage can.

Which brings me to one more point about laundry and baby clothes. WHY, someone please tell me why, do we even have white baby clothes? I only blame myself for putting it on him. From now on, Simon will only get to wear brown, black, navy blue, forest green, and mustard yellow clothing. I'll reinstate white once he can get a better hold of his bowel movements.

until then, i'll just count down till summer. Naked kiddos day and night!!!!!

Wanna know what pure boredom looks like? ^^^^^^^

And lastly, mother of the year award for letting her toddler play with choking-hazard-toys right next to a baby. Don't call C.P.S. on me, I plopped this beautifully robed body of mine in between the two boys and kept a keen eye on all those green triangles. We're only missing one...

Simon's one month

There's this re-initiation phase into parenthood after every child, I've decided. There's similar challenges as the first child; then there's all this new stuff you imagined in your head, but didn't actually expect you'd have to go through with the second. I'm being reminded of past experiences with Lincoln, but Simon is making sure to create some original memories for himself.

So here's life lately, from one to two kids.

I found out, very quickly, how there is very little time for myself during the day. Making myself a meal and sitting down to eat peacefully??? Will that ever happen again? So it's pretty much me snacking here and there when I get the chance. I grabbed a handful of chocolate chips (seems like a nutritious option when I can't get a full meal) and was eating some while feeding Simon. I might have felt one drop; okay I did feel one drop because I remember taking like half a second to find it, but didn't.

A few hours later, Lincoln and I were in the living room playing trains, and he looked over at me, pointed at me, and said, "YUCK!" I look down to my chest and see this nasty brown shmear. What the?? Oh! The chocolate chip! Somehow stuck and melted to my chest. Lovely.

                                     

Also, I smell different due to this concoction Simon created. It's an equal blend of spit-up, urine, and poop. I just want to store the smell in the fanciest bottle and keep it for special occasions when I want to feel extra MOM!

One night, as I rocked Simon after a night feeding, I had him projectile vomit all over me. No big deal, just use my bare hand to rub it into my shirt more. I started falling asleep rocking him, but was woken up with a warm sensation on my stomach. Yes, urine. It was a cooler night, so it was his way of warming me up I guess.

That morning, I was able to sneak in a quick shower. WOW! A shower is so refreshing. I went in to make a green smoothie for breakfast that morning and Lincoln insisted on pushing the blender button. So I put the blender close enough for him to push the button, and when I pulled it away and took the lid off, he reached to push the button just one more time...

Green smoothie EVERYWHERE. All over Lincoln, all over me, and did I mention I was holding Simon? Well, it was all over Simon too. And this all happened as Simon was crying to be fed. I haphazardly wiped us off, and then hurried over to feed Simon to calm him. As I'm feeding Simon and using his blanket to wipe out smoothie from his hair, I feel and hear the biggest rumble on my lap. And almost instantly, my hand is wet. Complete and major blow-out. Perfect timing Simon. I say that only half sarcastically because the other half really did think it was perfect timing. I mean, we're all dirty from the smoothie, might as well smear some poop on us too.

Now for some more learning experiences as a parent:

1. Sometimes, toddlers need to be served their meal in courses.
Is it normal to serve a toddler his meal in courses? I've never seen or heard anyone doing this, but I do. And I tell ya, it helps. Since we always struggle with having him eat veggies, I give veggies to him first with nothing else on his plate. If he's hungry enough, he'll eat a couple. THEN, I will give him his actual meal. It's a pain, but a mom has got to do what a mom has got to do...

2. They will become a parrot.
We are learning quickly, now that Lincoln is talking more and more, that he will repeat anything we say. Example, the other night at dinner, as we sat down, Lincoln extended his arm towards me and pointed at my food and said in a commanding voice, "EAT!" It was quite hysterical, and I'm sure you would find it funnier if you actually saw him say it. He hears and sees me say that to him several times a day so his impersonation was pretty dead on.

3. Spiritual little giants.
This is my absolute favorite. Family prayers at night, seeing my little boy on his knees, arms folded, and sometimes closing his eyes (usually he's peeking around though). I know I shouldn't be so distracted during a prayer, but I can't help but just watch him the entire time. And as we close our prayer, he yells out, "AMEN!" And then there's prayer time before we eat. He folds his arms to remind us to pray. We'll say a prayer to bless the food, and if I'm standing in the kitchen as the boys pray at the table, the moment I sit down to join them, he says prayer again! Our food usually gets two blessings in this house.

4. The floor becomes a war zone.
A war zone AND a death trap. Especially in the middle of the night when the house is dark and you walk across the living room and your son's plastic helicopter spears the bottom of your tender foot. I'm not sure how many times I've stepped on that cursed helicopter. I swore that if it happened one more time I would chuck it at the wall and then burn it and throw it away.

Well Simon, you've been surprisingly easy on your mother. Either you're easier or I'm less stressed this time around.....probably a little of both. You have been held and kissed many many times by your brother. You don't seem thrilled by it, but you put up with it. Happy one month!

And one last thing... 

It's something you're working on, but as soon as you open your eyes, they're usually looking in different directions. You give us the creepy eye pretty often and we get a good laugh. I caught a picture of it with a little spit up action. You crack me up. You're still adorable, though!

Simon's story

January 23, 2015

It was 6am and I was getting up to take my millionth pee for the night. First blessing of the day, I actually slept REALLY well that night. As I laid back down in bed, my lower back started aching. It wasn't the first time I've had that pain, especially this late in the pregnancy. But for some reason, that morning, and this time, I knew it was different-- mother's intution. I tossed and turned in bed, trying to find a position that would ease the pain, but no luck. I tried to pull my legs out of bed to walk around, but every little inch I moved killed! How the heck am I supposed to get Lincoln out of his crib in an hour? Second blessing of the day, Lincoln slept in for me. 

It took every ounce of energy to get out of bed and go get a glass of water to alleviate my nasty cotton-mouth. Unfortunately, that glass of water made me nauseous (dang you water!) and by the time I choked down a saltine cracker, I was waddling like a mad-woman to the bathroom to throw up. Ever thrown up straight water before? It's one of the better things to throw up that's for sure. I'll say that was my third blessing. 

Lincoln slept in till 8:15 which is rare. God knew I needed some extra time that morning and I'm super grateful to Him for that. It was enough time to be able to walk around a little bit and I mustered some strength to pull him out of his crib. He ran to his chair for breakfast and we skipped his usual oatmeal and I poured him a BIG bowl of cereal. I knew that would occupy him for awhile. I went and laid down on the couch while he ate. I didn't hear a peep out of him for 20 minutes until he said "more peease". I poured another big bowl, have at it kid.

After his breakfast, I tried having another sip of water. Bad idea. I waddled as fast as I could back to the bathroom with Lincoln following me. He stood next to me as I was throwing up. I thought he would be mortified seeing me like that, but instead, he took his chubby little hand and stroked my shoulder. My 22-month old was showing me the love I needed in that very moment. There were a few seconds that I was able to focus on Lincoln and how sweet he was being......and then he closed the toilet lid (almost on my head), flushed the toilet, and walked away. 

I texted Ryan and said he needed to come home. I'm 99.9% sure I was in labor and even if I wasn't, I needed him to work from home that day. He was home by 930 and that's when the contractions started coming. Every 5 minutes. We were at the hospital by 11am.

Fast forward to that afternoon when things got a little ugly. I was taking fentanyl for the pain, which was effective the first time, less effective the second dose, and the third dose wouldn't even touch the pain. They waited to tell me every dose would become less and less effective. Uhh? Thanks for nothing! It was late afternoon and I had stopped progressing and knew that I needed an epidural at this point since the drugs weren't even touching the pain. But guess what? After they brought the epidural cart in and got everything set up, they told me that my platelets were too low to receive an epidural. WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?! This is the point where things got REALLY ugly, and by "things", I mean, "me". Ryan saw a different side of me that day. A side that I'd rather not have to bring out ever again unless someone tells me they won't give me an epidural. Ever seen a mama bear protecting her cub? Well, I was the mama bear and the epidural cart they wheeled out of my room to give to another mother-- well, that cart was my baby cub. Ryan later said he would try paying off the anesthesiologist to give me an epidural anyway. My husband is the best.

They said they would redraw blood and do another platelet count. That was the. longest. wait. EVER. And then the nurse came back and said, the platelets were still too low.

But then another blessing. The anesthesiologist came in and agreed he would give me the epidural since the platelets weren't dropping anymore and the levels weren't too below the cut-off. He instantly became my hero.

Then, shortly after receiving my glorious epidural, I learned something new. It's called a hot-spot. It's when you get an epidural and there's a patch that the epidural doesn't touch. My first contraction after the epidural kicked in, I thought my left hip was on fire. Literally. Hence the name, hot-spot. It was localized to my left hip and even though it was extremely painful, it was a whole heck-of-a-lot better than where I was prior to the epidural.

And then it was time...
Luckily, after my lack of pain management ordeal, I was blessed with a speedy delivery. After 2 pushes, I had the greatest blessing of the whole day in my arms, Simon Barry Shideler. And my day became perfect, just like him.

The next day, Ryan brought Lincoln in to meet his new brother, and eventually BFF. Lincoln brought me a rose, a chocolate doughnut (which he ended up helping himself too), and a trash magazine. My boys take good care of me. :)

And watching Lincoln with Simon, and saying his name-- just down right melts my heart. 

And lastly, the look of a mother who realizes getting a family photo will become more and more of challenge...

Our first, FAMILY of 4 PHOTOS!

Lincoln

One morning, maybe like around 4am, Lincoln wasn't sleeping well because he had been sick. I was way too tired and just brought him back to bed with me and he finally fell back asleep. I was laying there, trying to fall back asleep myself when my little sleeping Lincoln softly and slowly muttered the words, "chooooo-choooo". I tell ya, it was one of the sweetest moments EVER!!!! One of those moments that you'll remember and tell him about one day when he is old enough. I can still here exactly how it sounded too. The sweetest choo-choo train noise you've ever heard. Now I know what he dreams about.

I told Ryan we should let Lincoln sleep with us one night. He's never really slept the whole night with us because having our kids in our bed with us hasn't been anything we've wanted. Even when we brought Lincoln home from the hospital, he was in our room one, maybe two, nights total before we both decided he needs to be in his own room. Our bed is our bed.

Don't get me wrong, there are rare occasions where I would bring him into bed if he was sick and having trouble sleeping. But he was only in our bed long enough to fall back asleep and then I would take him back.

SO, here comes my experience. My sister-in-law had posted this sappy poem online about how there's always a "last time" with your kids. So sappy, in fact, that it literally made me cry reading it. There will be a "last time" that you carry your child on your hip, and a "last time" for singing "Wheels on the bus" and a "last time" they'll crawl into your bed because they had a bad dream... And how we need to cherish these moments because they don't last forever. And that's when it hit me, I wanted Lincoln to sleep in bed with us for a night. Just to have his sweet little body there, all peaceful and cute.

I talked to Ryan about it; I even quoted some lines from the poem, which I think is what helped win him over with the idea. He agreed, I was happy, but that all changed----quickly. We had Lincoln fall asleep in his bed (since he wouldn't fall asleep with us in our bed-- too exciting for him) and then brought him into our bed once he was asleep. I was so giddy having our toddler sleeping with us for the first time for the whole night. It was so hard to fall asleep with him next to me, but eventually I did......and then eventually, I couldn't stay asleep!!!!!! Reality hit me hard. It was the worst!!!!! He smacked me in the face I don't know how many times, he would kick me in the stomach or judo chop me in the throat. He breathed way too loud for me to ignore. And I had no room at all. We have a king size bed, but I had Lincoln more on my half, so that Ryan wouldn't be disturbed. It was my idea after all.... I couldn't let Ryan think my idea was the result of his poor night's sleep. Pretty much Ryan had half the bed, Lincoln had the other half of the bed, and I had the very edge. And don't get me started about when he woke up in the morning. I'm used to slowly waking up, but Lincoln just popped up and started shoving his finger up my nose and jabbing my eye out. Not exactly how I want to wake up.

On to more pleasant times with our boy. 

This week I went in for my 38 week appointment and was 3 cm dilated. The doctor says he'd be surprised if I even made it to 39 weeks. I was thrilled..... until I realized I now have one week to get those little things done I need to before baby boy 2 comes. And then I went into panic mode. I'M NOT READY!!!!!!! No wait, yes I am. NO I'M NOT. YES, yes I am. NO. I'm not!!! You catch my drift. Anyway, leave it to Ryan to calm me down. He's my tranquilizer when I'm getting out of control. :)

So the next day I decided to take Lincoln out, just me and him, and have a fun day together before his brother comes. We went to the children's museum. I love that place as much as he does. I tried to just soak him up, as much as I could, and enjoyed every moment. I would get excited when he got excited about something, I let him drag me and my big belly in every direction he wanted to go....Man it was exhausting. But really, I'll cherish that day forever.

We ended the night by going to get us some doughnuts!!! I don't let him have many sweets.... so this was like, "ENJOY THIS DAY BUDDY. YOU GET A DOUGHNUT FOR DINNER!!!" Here I am trying to be "fun" and spoil him with krispy kreme... but guess what?!? This kid of mine wouldn't eat his doughnut!!! The glaze was too sticky on his hands so he wouldn't touch it..... and even when I tried to hand feed it to him, he would take a tiny bite and shake his head no! So I sat there, big belly and all, and ate my chocolate sprinkled donut and his glazed donut while he sat and watched me. He came home and ate an apple spinach pancake and yogurt. HA!

Our first own little christmas

This Christmas was our first own little Christmas without family. Just us three (+baby boy). We went to the Trail of Lights here in Austin, which will now be a new tradition for as many years as we live here. Lincoln had special seating right up on daddy's shoulders for the whole trail. We thought about having his picture taken with Santa while we were there, but that thought was squashed in about 30 seconds when we saw how long the line was. So what does any lazy but somewhat creative parents do? Just pose in FRONT of Santa, and maybe photo shop the other kids out? Well, at least we got a picture with Santa in the background....close enough. 

Christmas Eve we went over to some friends for a little while and then made a drive around neighborhoods with gas-station hot chocolate on our way home. Since we were in a residential area, we brought Lincoln up front to sit on my lap to get a better view of the lights, but all he was interested in was pulling on the visor and cranking up the radio and pushing buttons and trying to open the door. He lasted maybe one block or two before we put him back in his car seat. 

I know our gifts look bare. Funny things is, is that two of the three gifts you see wrapped are from the in-laws. And all the little gifts for Lincoln were from my parents. The only thing we bought Lincoln was a train set I found at a consignment store for $20. With the train set and gifts from Papa and Nana, he scored big time. SHHHH. I even put half of the gifts they gave him away for his birthday. :)

Oh, and then there was the brilliant idea of decorating sugar cookies. I tried to make it as easy as possible and buy the pre-made dough that only requires you to slice and put on a cookie sheet. Apparently that's still a little too complicated for me. Mine turned into a sugar cookie sheet. I ended up getting a cookie cutter and cutting a few and thought, screw it. I don't care if they are perfect circles. They're all going to the same place right?

Good thing I didn't take the time. Lincoln didn't care for the cookies, or frosting, or sprinkles. He's weird like that sometimes. Or maybe he refused to eat the cookies because they were ugly and odd-shaped.

But he was pretty dang stoked about his Santa pancakes I made. It's a good thing he doesn't really understand Santa because he would have told me off right away saying, "This doesn't look like Santa!" And I would have replied, "you're right kid, they sure don't." Thanks pinterest for making our food look creepy. 

And this picture just cracked me up. I was making our hot chocolate and thought, as I was admiring our pretty hot chocolate, "Parenthood must mean having toy rifles on the counter."

And lastly, our new christmas ornament this year!!! We do one every year and I was so unoriginal and bought a texas state ornament. It's pretty cool but pales in comparison to what Ryan bought. He's never bought one before and of course the first time he does, he showed me up big time. If you didn't see the photo I posted on instagram back around Halloween, we had an owl get into our house that nearly gave me a heart attack and luckily didn't scar Lincoln with owl-terrors. Anyway, Ryan was the hero and caught the owl. He found an owl ornament and now, every year when we hang up the brown owl we can re-tell the story of the owl getting in the house through the fireplace. Good times. :)

anyway, we hope y'all had a great and merry Christmas!