Soos!

After Ella got out of her pajamas this morning, I asked her, "What do you need to put on now?" 

"Soos." (Shoes)

"Don't you need socks on first?" 

"No." (Emphatic head shaking). "SOOS!" 

She sits down and attempts to put her shoes on. Mind you, she is buck naked at this point. 

I help her put them on, and say, "Are you missing anything?"

She looks around, pats her belly, ensures that there are shoes on her feet. 

"No."

I think she has a slight obsession with her shoes. 

Sick Toddler

My clothes are encrusted with snot.

There are crayons all over the kitchen floor.

Everywhere I turn, there is yet another dirty tissue.

Foods that don't contain cheese are poison. Unless they are crackers. Preferably eaten with cheese.

Yesterday the only thing that made her happy was pretending to sweep the floor. Today, it's watching me sweep the floor (is she trying to tell me something about the cleanliness of the house? Hey kiddo, if you didn't smash your crackers into the floor, it wouldn't be so dirty).

We may not survive the week.

Weaning

Over the past few weeks, I've had to gradually wean Ella from nursing three times a day, to two, to finally only before bed. Tonight was the first night that I cut her nightly nursing session in half, and tomorrow I will cut that time in half again, until we are through. It feels weird to think that by the end of the week, I will no longer be breastfeeding her. 

I know many people are thinking, "She's 14 months old! It's far past the time when you should have stopped!" (And if you are one of those people, don't even get me started). I know logically it is the best decision, not only because of my history of miscarriage and preterm labor, but because my body is having a hard impossible time keeping up with the demands of pregnancy and nursing a toddler. I know Ella will adjust and be fine, and that I have breastfed her longer than the majority of women do in this country. I know I made it past my initial goal of one year, and I should be proud of that. 

Yet I still am having a hard time coming to grips with weaning. I already have fears and anxieties about going from one baby to two, and it feels like I am telling Ella that the new baby is more important than her. 

To be honest, I don't know if I would feel ready to stop even if she was two. 

The next few nights are not going to be pretty.  

Big news!

Ella tried to call up everyone to tell them herself, but as she's having trouble working the phone, I'll let the picture tell you instead. 

That's right, Ella is going to be a big sister! Baby Schrodinger (because we don't know whether it's a boy or girl so we can simultaneously think of it as both) is due on October 5 and is doing fantastic. I've been nauseated and exhausted, which is why there is a dearth of blog posts recently. Hopefully in the next few weeks I'll start feeling better and can get back to posting more. 

The poop rule (yes, I am writing about poop)

There seems to be a special rule that applies to kids and poop. After many months of careful examination, I think I have finally figured it out. The toddler poop rule goes something like this: 

-If Mommy or Daddy is sitting there patiently waiting for you to poop on the toilet, then don't go. Give it about fifteen minutes. They will eventually sigh and give up. Then, once your diaper is back on, run and hide behind the couch. Then, and only then, may you poop. 

-If they are able to manage to get you to poop on the toilet, don't go entirely. Just do a little bit and triumphantly yell, "Done!" Then, once you have lulled your parents into thinking that they have escaped from cleaning up a poopy diaper that day, go squat in a corner and finish your business. 

-The most opportune time to poop is when Mommy or Daddy is trying to get you ready to head out somewhere. Preferably when they are already running late. This is also the ideal time to have a blow-out. 

-If for some reason your Mommy is too tired to take you out in public that day, hold it all in patiently until dinnertime. 

-Another ideal place to go is in the car. Bonus points if you are on a road trip and there is no where to pull off for the next 40 miles. 

-If Mommy or Daddy asks you if you need to poop, the answer is always an emphatic "no." 

My problem with eating healthy

I try to eat healthy. I seriously do. I'm big into making the majority of our food from scratch instead of buying pre-made food. I mean, hello, I even have made my kid her own snack crackers. Obviously I wouldn't go through that much of an effort if I was not passionate about making sure we eat healthy.

But I have a problem with this. A big problem.

See, here is what happens. I go to the grocery store, feeling self-righteous in the fact that while other people are putting soda and potato chips into their cart, mine is being filled with things like broccoli and quinoa.

I get home, and start making all sorts of delicious, nutritious things for us to eat. Everything is going great. I am smug in my knowledge that while I could have bought ice cream, instead I am making banana bread as a treat.

Then a day comes where I look to see what there is to eat. As I peer through the fridge and pantry, I start to feel incredibly stabby. "Who the heck had the brilliant idea that I should eat granola and yogurt for breakfast?!" I think angrily.

Usually this ends with me finding the bag of chocolate chips I had hidden from myself in the back of the pantry. Feeling remorseful, I go off to the grocery store, determined that this week I will not fall victim to the siren call of sugary goodness.

It's a vicious cycle.