Hurry Up! But Slow Down . . .

Today my beautiful Molly is three months old. To celebrate the occasion, Garry got out all of her 3-6 month clothes that I'll wash this weekend and also broke out her hi chair and Jumperoo. She's still tiny, tiny and not ready for any of that stuff, but we're getting everything ready and clean for her next big step.

Sleeping in her crib! Eating cereal! Jumping! Sitting up! Wearing cutesy outfits! It's all very exciting. Is there anything cuter than the 3-6 month stage? I cannot wait, but at the same time I am having little panic attacks putting away her newborn-sized clothes. I know how fun the next stage is but wouldn't mind too much if she took her time going into it.

On Second Thought. . .

In a few months I think that I will regret the blog that I did about Molly biting me while I was nursing. My traditional, conservative values will return and I will think, "Did I really write a blog about THAT?" Sadly, yes, apparently I did.

The interesting thing about breasts after you have a baby is that they become very asexual. They have a job, and since Molly will not take a bottle, they are at work A LOT. And since we are not home all day, I feel that they are on display a lot. They have been whipped out at Wendy's, Pizza Hut, Mimi's Cafe, the doctor's office three times, book club SO MANY parking lots. . . Good thing that they are at their best right now.

I Knew It!

I have long believed that products made for men and women are simply not equal. For example, take nylons. Truly, if you are "nice" to your nylons -- take them off as soon as you can, handwash, clip those unsightly toenails (oh, the stories I have about old roommates and you know who you are!!) how long does a pair of nylons last? Not long. Even the ones that are run-proof do not run, they simply tear.

I have often thought that if men wore nylons they would come up with some sensible, durable ones.

Today I ran out of deodorant and had to use Garry's. It was like applying cement to my armpits. Not a single drop of perspiration would dare escape. It simply was not possible, what with the liquid cement and all. Why can't I have a deodorant like this, except with a more pleasant scent?

Those of you who think I am kidding, or, dare I admit, EXAGGERATING, go ahead and steal your husband's deodorant and try it out. You'll be shocked at the difference and we can write letters of complaint together.

Pay Attention To Me!

Garry was gone for a few days to sunny Florida. That's right, he missed the fantastic 20 degree weather we enjoyed at the beginning of the week. It was a crazy few days as we celebrated Macey's birthday and then got ready for her Princess Party.

Molly suffered the most. I tried to multi-task while I fed her. After all, I could not just sit and feed her. There were things to do! There was no time to cuddle and will her hair to grow.

Being a baby genius, Molly came up with a way to tell me to stop it, to slow down, and pay attention to her. She bit me! She does not have any teeth and so no permanent damage was done, but she has some crazy strong gums.

Point taken, Molly. Point taken.

The Best of Times, The Worst of Times

Yesterday we celebrated Macey's third birthday. She had a great time being a Birthday Princess! She was able to pick out what she wanted for breakfast, she got a Princess Badge to wear at school, the kids sang to her at school and she got to eat yummy pizza with the Moore Family and they gave her presents! Even though Garry was gone, she had a good day. It was all too much and she told me at 7:10 that she was TIRED.

It was the best of times.

But for someone, it was the worst of times. Poor Emma had a really hard time. Macey got to pick the songs for morning devotional (she chose "Happy Birthday", I thought that was really cute) she got to open the door on the way to school, she got a Princess Badge, and then to top it off, she got presents. It was all too much for a girl who does not understand that EVERYONE gets a birthday once a year, you just have to wait until yours rolls around. I even caught her singing Happy Birthday to herself.

For her, truly, it was the worst of times.

Happy Birthday, Macey!

Sunday was a tough day with Macey. She had a few accidents and her attitude was in abundance. Garry was gone and I was so ready to put her to bed. But, when going through pictures and getting ready for her birthday, I just cried because this willful, stubborn girl is my little miracle, and she's perfect!

You Can Only Share So Much

Emma and Macey are a pound apart. Emma is about 30 pounds and Macey is one pound lighter. Someday they may disapprove of my posting their weight, but for now I think that I am okay.

Because they are so close to the same size, they have been sharing clothes for quite awhile. But the other day, when I was helping Macey get dressed, I asked her what kind of underwear she wanted to wear that day. Care Bears? Dora? Madagascar?

"Mermaid," she said.

"You don't have Mermaid," I said. "Do you want me to buy you some?"

"No," she said. "Emma has some in her drawer."

And that was the start of a long discussion on how we do not share SOME things. Okay, it was not THAT long of a discussion. It was pretty much me just saying "No". Really emphatically.

Stuck

This morning I got caught in another Project Runway marathon. (Curse you, Bravo!) One of the dresses that came down the runway was stunning, I thought. Bold colors, snazzy design. I was a fan.

Then came the judges comments. Apparently my favorite outfit was in the bottom two! What! What! The judges said that it was just "so 1990's".

And apparently so am I.

No Hope

I like to watch the news. This has not always been the case. I used to wish that the Nightly News would get cancelled when I was young. We only had three channels, and the Nightly News really put a dent into my evening enjoyment. And now, as an adult, I find it deplorable that the Today show is four hours long. But, I digress.

I like to watch the news because I like watching the Weather Forecasts. Is there anything better than watching a five day forecast and seeing the temperatures go higher and higher! Or seeing a big old sun clip art spanning the five days? It makes me happy as I look forward to the days getting warmer and warmer. Spring stretchy pants, here I come!

But lately, I have had no hope. The weather has plateaued and so has my mood. The days stretch forward -- 40 degrees, 46 degrees, 41 degrees. And instead of a big old sun clip art I see BREEZY written across the days.

This is horrible. This is a hereto undiscovered, unexplored level of Dante's Inferno. How long can it last?

My Addiction

Apparently I am addicted to reality television. The sound of Padma saying "Hands Up, Knives Down" makes me smile.

I watch the clock on Tuesdays, anxiously awaiting for that splendid 8:00 hour when Idol begins.

The beginning and finale of Survivor is a special event in the Cunningham household to be celebrated with Ben & Jerry's ice cream. Phish Food, of course.

I once wasted an entire Saturday on an America's Next Top Model marathon on Bravo. After about eight hours Garry made me change the channel, and so I had to look on the Internet to see who had won. It put a serious strain on our marriage. In my defense, I was already in bed because of the flu.

Though he watches most of these shows with me, Garry is puzzled and somewhat amused by my addiction. He thinks that I would watch a reality show about homeless men getting voted off their favorite park bench, and he might be right. Perhaps someone should pitch that to the networks.

Yes, She Talks!

Macey is coming out of her shell.

Today one of her teachers said that when Macey first started school she was a little quiet. I wish I could have seen that! But, not anymore. At snack time she announced to her teacher that she really liked pizza bites. And when it was her job to wipe and clean the tables, she told all the kids to excuse her, she needed to clean where they were -- make way for Macey!

The Road Trip -- Without The Road

After church on Sunday we took off on Molly's first road trip -- without much road. We just headed up to Baltimore where we used some of Garry's Marriott points to stay at a hotel near the Inner Harbor. Emma and Garry hit the pool and the hot tub while Macey, Molly and I relaxed in the room and watched a movie.

Garry then took the girls to Taco Express and then picked up some cheesecakes at Whole Foods where Garry ran up and down the aisle pretending that he was on Top Chef.

Sunday night we popped some popcorn and watched a movie.

Today we had breakfast and headed off to the aquarium when the trip started going horribly wrong. Molly did not like being in her Baby Bjorn, obviously oblivious to how much the darn thing cost. Emma was cranky and did not want to look at a single fish. And then Macey had a little peeing accident.

The best thing about a road trip without a lot of road? You can come home!

Procrastination

The thought of 6.5 million people procrastinating buying a DVR converter box has made me think about my own tendency to procrastinate. What am I procrastinating? A ton of little things like picking up Freakonomics from the library and doing ANOTHER load of laundry. But those things have more to do with time than procrastinating. So what am I really procrastinating?

My eyebrows.

It has gone on for so long that I have this whole unibrow action going on. It has gotten so bad that the other night I had a dream about Brad Pitt and I was hoping that he did not notice my unibrow. It has seeped into my dreams, ruining what could have been a really nice dream.

It's a matter of time. It's a matter of comfort. It's a matter of finding my tweezers since my girls like to play in my make-up bag. It's a matter of it hurting like a son of a gun.

And, it's a matter of procrastination.

So, what are YOU procrastinating?

#200! Woohoo!

This is my #200 Post. Woohoo! That's a whole lot of talking about nothing for a few months. But, it's been fun. But what topic is worthy of being part of #200? I know. . .

What Princess Really Rules The Castle? I was watching Mulan today, and I have to say, I like her. Brave, loyal, outgoing, quirky. She's a good hero, and I do not mind my girls watching her.

I'll tell you the loser princess: Ariel. Yep, she's a loser in my book. Why? Simple. Remember at the very end of The Little Mermaid when she has turned back into a Mermaid and is about to face the wratch of the Sea Witch, Ursula? Her Father and Sebastian come to the rescue and Ariel utters the following words:

"Daddy, I'm sorry. I didn't know. . .I didn't mean. . ."

For the love. Yes, she did know. Yes, she did mean. Yes, she did SIGN. She just hoped for a different outcome. That part drives me a little crazy and I almost wish Ariel was turned into a Schmoo just so that she could learn the consequences of her actions.

Do other people worry about this or just lawyers with little girls?

Now is THAT fair?

I think that before Valentine's Day women should not be allowed to watch commercials. Women should particularly avoid commercials advertising jewelry. Those commercials are so sappy and contain so much bling, anything any real man does will pale in comparison even if he really tried.

Has Garry contacted my mother, had her send my childhood jewelry box to him, and bought some carat-friendly new earrings to go in said favorite childhood jewelry box? Umm, no. I know what you're thinking -- maybe he did! Alicia, you never know! I may not know my husband's true capacity for being a sappy romantic, but I DO KNOW my mom's tendency to throw things away. That said, I also do not expect on Saturday for a fire to be burning, flowers blooming, candles glimmering, kids hiding. It's just not in the cards. Which reminds me, a card is always nice.

So what do I expect? This year my New Years Resolution was to learn to ask for what I wanted instead of just being mad when I do not get it. So, on Saturday I expect the necklace I dragged my husband to the mall to look at. And if dinner happens to be a cornish hen, hey, that would be great as well.

Earrings I lose. Ballerina jewelry boxes I break. Truly, I do. But the memories of a good cornish hen with yummy mashed potatoes and something chocolately for dessert? Those last forever.

Stupid Congress

A lot of the actions taken by Congress lately have brought me great concern. Truly. But one action in particular really bothers me.

Not the bank bailout or the so-called "stimulus" plan. Though I could blog about both of those.

What I find annoying is Congress extending the DTV deadline from February 17th to sometime in June.

After suffering through a year of those stupid commercials warning everyone about FEBRUARY 17th, I find that I have to suffer through at least another four months.

Why did Congress do this? Why? WHy? WHY? Because they estimate that 6.5 million people are not prepared.

How could over 6.5 million people not be ready? How in the world can there be 6.5 million procrastinators in the United States!! That is the entire state of Idaho procrastinating 6 times over.

And it's not just procrastinating something for a week. These people have procrastinated something FOR A YEAR!

Cut their television. That'll get em moving.

SNEAKY

Little Miss Emma is turning into one little sneaky devil. Or maybe she always has been and I've just started noticing.

Let's take the cereal example. We really struggle with the girls asking for food and then not finishing it or, in some cases, once they get it deciding they do not want it and not even touching it. This has been really frustrating for Garry and me, and so we have cracked down on this behavior. So Emma has had to get crazy sneaky.

She had cereal. Life cereal. And on the box there were strawberries in said Life cereal. So Emma desperately needed strawberries as well, just like the picture. We happened to have some, and so I cut them up, recut them after Emma discovered "something yucky green" still on top, and served them to her. She later happily reported later that she had eaten her breakfast "all gone". I went to check and to my wonderful amazement, her food was all gone. But wait. What were all these strawberries doing in Macey's bowl? I quickly explained to Emma that it did not count.

Then there's her delegation "problem". She has miraculously discovered the benefit of being oldest -- that being, she gets to reign over the smaller ones. But I think that even she knows she has to capitalize on this FAST because Macey is catching up. The other day I gave Emma something that she needed to put back in her room. I gave her specific instructions on where it needed to go. A few seconds later I heard Emma repeat the exact same instructions TO MACEY as she delegated the task right on down.

Upper management, here she comes!

The picture above is of our sneaky little devil ICE SKATING!!

Breaking All The Rules

There are a few things that a third child should be required to do:

(1) Be happy to get food from any source -- especially a bottle.

(2) Start sleeping through the night around 6 weeks of age.

(3) Love swinging in the swing. LOVE IT.

(4) Consider the pacifier to be her best friend.

Little Miss Molly is breaking all of the rules. She hates bottles, she was up three times last night, she has a low tolerance for her swing, and she gags at the sight of a pacifier.

She's breaking all of the rules. So why do I love her so much?

Getting Used To This

Miss Molly is now two months old, and I can tell that I am getting used to having a newborn again. How? Simple. Yesterday Molly spit up all over herself and my sweater and instead of changing us both into new clothes, I just wiped us both up with a wipe and carried on. She's a spewer, but she's a beautiful spewer.

Prove Your Love

It is only Tuesday, and already the theme of this week seems to be: Prove Your Love.

Case in point. After the Super Bowl was over I turned to Garry and asked him if he liked me. Really liked me. Would hang out with me even if he did not have to. Like me. Not loved me because I am married to you. But am happy to be with you because I like you. Like you.

So many men want to have this conversation right after the Super Bowl, and, needless to say, by the time the conversation was done Garry did not like me much.

Today I had to Prove My Love to Molly. More than anything in this world I wanted onion rings. Yummy. Onion rings with a special sauce. But I'm nursing, and I recognize that it would not be good in the long run for Molly. So I proved my love and devotion and just got fries. Now that is love.

The Unsinkable Molly Joy

For all those who did not get to see Molly on Sunday and ooohhh and aaaahhhh over her cute dress with matching shoes, I've provided the following picture. She is beautiful.

Wiggle Jiggle Wiggle Jiggle

It's easy to put people on a pedastal. If they dress better than you, if their children behave better than yours, if they went to a better school -- up the pedastal they go.

I'll never agree with Michelle Obama's politics, but she dresses well, her children behave well, and she went to a great school. So up the pedastal she went.

And down she came again.

Why? Because I realized on Inauguration Night that she is fully human. When? After the "First Dance" when she waved at the crowd -- her upper arm wiggle jiggled, wiggle jiggled just like mine! With all the resources of the world at her disposal, she cannot do anything about that wiggle jiggle.

Phew.