Nap Time Comedy of Errors

Nap time for two is far more difficult than nap time for one. When Maya was 6 months old, I would simply wait for her to rub her eyes a bit and then nurse her while I caught up on my Days of our Lives. After the 10 or 15 minutes it took for me to get annoyed with the regurgitated story line, Maya would be asleep. I would set her in her crib and then dash off to weed the garden, or more likely, read in the hammock.

Poor Elliot doesn’t have it so easy. She was tired right around the time Maya needed her pre-nap story. Toddler stories don’t last all that long though, so Elliot had just started dozing by the time we were finished. The poor baby was jostled around while I helped Maya with the potty, and she got a bit antsy while I tucked Maya into her Little Mermaid sheets. At last, it was quiet, and she was nursing with her eyes closed. In mere moments I would have some alone time.

Then Maya cried out, “I have to use the potty.”

Have you ever tried to gently perch an almost-sleeping baby on your shoulder while simultaneously running like mad to facilitate another person's call to nature?

One change of pants serenaded by a so-sad baby later, we were back where we started. All was quiet, and Elliot was just about to doze off.

Then the doorbell rang.

Her eyes popped open like a scene from the Shining! I had no choice but to introduce her to Mr. Fix-it, as I directed him to the loose siding at the back of the house. The doorbell, of course, roused Maya out of her quiet enjoyment of Little Critter, and I could here “mama, mama” drifting from her room when I turned back inside.

Finally, Maya was re-tucked, and Elliot was re-snuggled. Everything looked good. Until the phone rang. Daddy couldn’t have known that nap time would take so much longer than usual, but it’s a good thing Elliot doesn’t speak English… well, she was crying too loud to hear the choice words I muttered at the caller ID.

Finally, Elliot was asleep in her play pen downstairs; Maya was asleep upstairs in her bed. For about ten minutes, I had found my bliss. Then Maya woke up, cranky, and she cranked so loud Elliot woke up. Oh what fun. At least bedtime will be early tonight.

Some days nap time just stinks. I need to clone myself or get my hands on a duplicate or some FDA approved baby-Lunesta. Someone must sell that right?

Cleaning for Spring

It’s still not spring yet.

We’re stuck in that awful limbo in which snow is more likely than rain, but snow boots get so soggy they take days to dry out for the next walk.

So we are spring-cleaning. Of course, we’re cleaning the green way, as we’re trying to raise organic girls. Here are my favorite green-cleaning staples.

Borax (to scrub whatever needs scrubbing)

Alice's Wonder Spray (truly all purpose cleaner – even on woodwork)
* 1 cup white vinegar
* 2 tsp. borax
* 32 oz. hot water
* essential oil (optional) 20 drops
* liquid dish soap (add last) 1/4 cup
* Mix in a 32 oz. spray bottle.

Furniture Polish
* 1 part white vinegar
* 3 parts olive oil
* a few drops of lemon oil

Glass Cleaner
* 1 cup white vinegar
* 1 cup rubbing alcohol
* 1 cup water

I just mix this stuff up once a year or so, so I have it all on hand. The house doesn’t have that satisfying bleachy-clean smell when I’m finished, so I burn some soy candles and open the windows to give it a fresher feeling.

Or I will. I’m really just doing one room a day. Cleaning out drawers and closets, washing windows, wiping down walls and base boards…. It all takes time. The girls have been great. Elliot perches on a blanket full of toys, crawling and rolling around to reach them, and Maya intermittently helps spray the cleaner and draws on her easel or hides in her fort.

At the rate I’m going, the house will be somewhat organized and clean by the time the weather warms up a bit. When it does, we’ll never come inside again (hopefully… that way it will stay clean, right?)

The Home Court Advantage

After two excursions away from home base in as many weeks, I must say, I love the home court advantage.

Our house is brimming with kid-friendliness. Each room offers multiple distractions for toddlers (thanks to bountiful holidays and generous friends and family), safe and entertaining docks for babies (the excersaucer is infinitely popular right now), and a complete lack of decorative plates or candles below a four-foot level.

On top of the safe entertainment value of our house, add safety features. In addition to the timeless electrical outlet barriers, we have installed toddler door locks on all of the outside doors, the door at the top of the scary basement stairs, and even the inside knob on the door to Maya’s room (Don’t laugh at it... or call child services! It makes bedtime a snap, and we monitor them closely).

Of course dangers still lurk, and I’ve done my best to teach Maya not to fool around on the stairs, stand up in the bathtub, jump on furniture, or walk past the end of our driveway. We’re working on breaking her bed jumping habit (it was so cute when she was a bincy little 18 month old, but now she strong, tall, and jumps so wildly we fear for our light fixtures).

When we leave home base, however, Maya is woefully unaware of the dangers around her, which makes the adults in her life extra stressed when she’s on an adventure. After a long weekend at the farm, I’m beginning to recognize the need to actively teach her some basic rules for “big” kids.

For instance, after four days of playing zone defense on the two doors leading into the farmhouse, I’m committed to taking the toddler locks off of the garage door and teaching Maya not to leave without permission. It was just silly when she snuck out to let the muddy farm dog in, and then call out, “Mama, Naladog is ALL muddy!” Luckily, Grandma had a swiffer handy, and Maya cleaned up the mess.

But I’m nut sure we can head up to the lake cabin without teaching Maya not to go outside without an adult.

Also, our kid-friendly backyard is great for affording Joe and I some down time. The farm however, was brightly decorated with giant red machines with bright yellow ladders. In Maya’s world yellow ladders lead to endless playground fun, not certain catastrophe on an international combine.

So we’ll work on taking her places (sans Elliot Rose) without her stroller or a shopping cart, and teach her to heel and stay. Maybe we should just enroll her in a local obedience classes… Maya would surely love to have a beagle for a classmate after watching “It’s Flashbeagle Charlie Brown” all weekend (a great 80s spoof on Flashdance).

Of course, the baby proofing of our home is about to get stepped into high gear again. We’re dragging out the baby gates, touring the house with a toilet paper tube to remove all small items, and hiding our cat.

That’s right, Elliot Rose is crawling. Now the fun begins; we have two mobile kids!

Most likely we’ll be playing in our home court more than ever.















We dyed Easter Eggs during the blizzard Friday, trying to pass the time as Maya repeatedly shouted, "But I want to go to the farm right now!"



Grandpa treated Maya to several tractor rides. She loves it as much as I used to!

She just crawled to catch the measuring cup... do I see a professional baker? Food Network Challenge here we come!

A Pre-Spring Walk in the Park

We have resumed our daily walks to the park, even though spring is still just a fantasy. Everything is slushy and melty, but we're expecting several inches of snow tonight and tomorrow (just in time for our Easter drive... we'll see).

We follow the streams of water to see where they end up. Maya is fascinated by the storm drain.


She splashes in every puddle she can find. The snowsuit keeps her really dry, but the cheap boots are miniature lakes, and icey ones at that, by the time we get home. Good thing rain boots are in the Easter Basket!

We walk around in the snow just to spray slush out from our footprints.

We talk endlessly about the mommy and daddy ducks that swarm the melty ice rink.

Elliot sleeps through it every time.

Heart Chart Success

I’ll just stick to my theme. Since I can’t seem to upload pictures right now, I’ll add one more post that is better without pictures.

We seem to have turned a corner on the potty training issue. We have been diaper free since January, only using pull-ups at bedtime. Some weeks have been more successful than others, and some days created a bulging load of tiny laundry. In late February, though, we instituted the Heart Chart, and that seems to have done the trick.

We tried several other methods.

Seat treats (usually an M&M or gummy bear) failed because she just kept forcing herself to go until she was full of treats and then she didn’t run in there when she really had to go.

A star chart (adding a star for each success) seemed to work for a bit. We even started adding stars for hand washing, as an extra incentive. Then, after she got 5 stars, she would get to go somewhere fun. Ultimately this failed, because it took to long to get to the treat. If she had a couple of bad days, but was just one star away from a treat, she might end up getting rewarded for one random success amid a string of messes. She just didn’t associate the stars with good potty habits.

The Heart Chart seems to provide the right combination of instant gratification, benign punishment, and reward.

I drew three hearts on one piece of paper and cut three hearts the same size out of a separate sheet. I taped the chart to the wall and clipped the hearts, along with a box of conversation hearts, to the chart. Each success was rewarded with a conversation heart, and she was able to tape a cut-out heart to the chart. Then, when she filled all three hearts, she could pick whether we went to the park, the Children’s museum, or just had a little ice cream.

I realize this is just a combination of the seat treat and star chart. But I added a twist. Every time she had an accident, we removed a heart. This was good for Joe and I, because instead of asking her “why” or reminding her about potty etiquette, we were able to say, “Shoot, that means you lost a heart… and we really want to go to the museum after nap.” It was good for her too, because visually loosing a star had as much impact as putting it on. After a few days, she was able to end each day with three hearts. Off to the museum we went!



We try to keep the rewards coming by making them a bit smaller and easier to fit into our regular schedule. Soon, though, she won’t need the incentive, or the punishment, that the Heart Chart offers.

I think the parents that claim their 18-month-old just decided to use the potty and never had an accident again have blissfully forgotten how it is to parent a young child. Or maybe they just never had a lazy day when they forgot to prompt their kid in time. Who knows.

I know we’ll still have accidents and setbacks, but she has ended the day in the same pants she started in for more than a week. That’s progress. I do know I’ll probably be interrupting playtime with “it’s time to use the potty” for years to come. What a funny thing to have to teach someone!

Awh, Poop

I’ve never been very squeamish, and motherhood is notoriously a dirty job. Armed with both of these facts, however, I am still more than a little surprised to find myself in this place of complete immunity to all things gross.

I (along with most fellow parents) am completely unphased by the grossness of my constantly erupting baby. In fact, when we brought Elliot home, I was completely nostalgic about that sour cream fragrance that mingles with the baby powder scent of newborns. I suppose not all parents of newborns are quite so immune, given that half of all babies under three months have “acid reflux” (formerly known as spit-up) and pediatricians (responding to incentives from pharmaceutical companies and demands of parents) are increasingly offering Zantac and Prylosec to treat the “problem.”

I have been less than sympathetic when other adults react to Elliot’s little displays with disgust or compare her to Stan on South Park. That is, until I reminisce about the good old days when my shirts were stain free (well, unless I had coffee) and my perfume was more “wildflowers” than “dairy case.” I can hardly blame others for finding a palm full of regurgitated milk less than endearing.

As the title implies, spit up is not nearly the grossest aspect of parenting. I won’t even go into my post traumatic stress syndrome caused by a recent mommy-daughter bath and a couple of horrifying public displays of evacuation (PDE’s?). We’re in the trenches over here, making fantastic strides in potty training punctuated by seriously offensive steps backward, plus we are transitioning Elliot to solid foods (which means giving up the easy infant diapers).

You want one last gross thought…. The Special Potty, also known as the public restroom. Ugh. Every place we go, the bookstore, the library, the mall, even the zoo, Maya wants to use the Special Potty. She even refuses to pee before we go, knowing that an exciting new toilet is awaiting her.

I used to eat a bunch of salty popcorn with the hope that dehydration would keep me out of the zoo bathroom. Now I’m in there cheering as Maya clings to her perch on the edge of that nasty potty. When you’re three-feet-tall hovering just isn’t an option.

Someday my life won’t be so full of bodily functions, and I’ll regain my sense of decorum. Until then, I’ll just record as many stories and pictures as possible for use as high school blackmail!

The Sprouts

One long weekend away from my “routine” (of unscheduled chaos!), and everything has changed. Yes, everyone is always commenting on how much the girls change from one visit to the next, but I didn’t expect to feel that way after just a weekend.

As I bounced and rocked and soothed my baby all weekend, she seemed as unpredictable as a newborn, but since we’ve been home she seems to be on the verge of crawling, or even talking. Right, it will be a while on both accounts, but she seems so animated and ready to play. She chatters endlessly at her sister, our cat, and all of her toys. She can scoot side to side to get at her toys and she rolls over easily now.


More surprisingly, if Maya and I dash into the next room while we’re playing, she cries the instant she realizes she’s been left behind. They sound more like howls of protest than cries. It’s amazing.

Plus she has her first tooth, slept 9 hours in her crib last night, and will be starting solid foods this evening!

After going a few days without talking to Maya face to face, I’m just amazed at the conversations we have. She has been using all of my most common phrases on me: “Are you okay, honey” when I stubbed my toe. “I’ll be right back, just don’t move, okay?” when Elliot spit up on my hand and she offered to get us a towel. And for the 100th time this week, “How was your day in Tulsa Mama?” No naughty words have appeared in her repertoire yet (miraculously), so I still have time to clean up my act (my St. Patrick’s Day resolution?).

And she’s capable of so much. She loves to mop the floor (her expression in the photo is really more concentration than forced labor, I swear!); it's an incredibly useful skill as I'm trying to get her used to big girl cups. She has been helping me make dinner every night. She made the bread crumbs with the food processor, added seasoning, and whisked the egg so we could fry our stuffed chicken breast. She still preferred cereal for her own dinner, but it was a fun activity.


The seeds we planted a few weeks ago are sprouting up nicely, and so are the girls. It’s spring!

Random Observations on Traveling with Baby

We’re back! It was wonderful to see family that I hadn’t seen in far too long (seven years or more for some!) and to introduce Elliot Rose to her family. She definitely loved being doted on and made some new friends while I reconnected with cousins and enjoyed a spectacular wedding.

The most useful “flying with baby” advice from all that I read:

• Don’t go solo if you don’t have to. Two sets of parental hands make all the difference.... and except for must-see family events, try to wait until baby is a distractable toddler…. At least with my kids, that would be easier!
• Get baby to suck on something during landing and takeoff (unfortunately on a two hour flight that’s the whole thing… but Elliot did deign to take a pacifier)
• Bring “new” toys for baby. even at 5 months they are most entertained by new things. Elliot was most distracted by my seatbelt, the plastic bag that held her Tylenol, my boarding pass (I had to watch her close to make sure she didn’t eat it!) and my seatmate’s newspaper (he seemed to have a sense of humor about it). For toddlers, gift wrap all toys, new and old. That’s just more activity!
• Don’t tamper with baby. If you are flying with a baby, don’t play the keep-her-up-so-she-naps game or you’ll end up with miss crabby pants. I did this on the first flight and Elliot was a puddle of tears for most of the trip. She was hungry and tired, but was too wound up to eat or sleep. We had a bit more success on the return flight, when I made sure she was content before hand.
• Strength train! After 4 days of traveling solo with baby, I’d developed serious shoulder muscles. This was very useful for awkward bouncing in coach airplane seats. I seemed to have the touch on the return flight.
• Remember that most likely fellow passengers just feel bad for the crying baby, and if not, you’ll never see them again.

Also, I was surprised to learn that even at 5 months old, Elliot has a real attachment to her home, her things, and her family. She was hysterical when we arrived at our hotel suite and it wasn’t her home (after the plane and the car, I'm sure she expected the comfort of her own swing!). It took her nearly 24 hours to mellow out. And when we did get home, she was clearly overjoyed. She kept lunging for Maya and daddy and talking to all of her familiar toys. It was kind of amazing to see. She is full of personality now!

A ridiculous number of pictures follow:

Into the Wild Blue

Tomorrow I pack 5-month-old Elliot and myself onto a puddle jumper plane and head south. Though the flight will last a mere two hours, I’m obsessing over all of the logistics! Everyone I’ve talked to says something along the lines of “flying with a baby is easy… she’ll just sleep” or “relax, everyone else travels with their babies, it’s no big deal.”

Well, mine are the only two kids I’ve ever heard of that don’t consistently sleep in the car, giving me little hope for the plane; and even though everyone does it, everyone also has stories about that terrible woman with the crying baby on the plane.

And for all of you who said, "I flew with my kids, you'll do fine." You could have given me a heads up to begin packing a week early. This baby needs more accessories than a diva!

So wish me luck. I’ve thought through all of the major details, car seat/sling/Tylenol/pacifier (as if she’ll take it)/easy access shirt/snappy comeback if I get seated next to a man that doesn’t approve of nursing in public… I found a reasonably good website with tips for flying with a baby, and my doctor added her own advice on de-pressurizing little ears: the aspirator (nasty blue bulb thing babies hate) as a last resort.

So we’re off. It’s just a two-hour flight rewarded with a long weekend featuring lots of baby viewings (a.k.a. many arms to share baby with) and a family wedding (a chance to dress up, fancy food, good company… perhaps I’ve been cooped up too long, but I’m positively giddy with excitement).

Incidentally, Maya and Joe are far too excited about a daddy-daughter weekend. They clearly have rule-breaking planned (French fries anybody?)….

Wish us all luck!

On Hanging in There

Maya is currently upstairs, tucked neatly into her toddler bed, dreaming about the new kitty she wants to give Anakin (our giant housecat) for his birthday.

This may seem mundane to you, but I’m out of breath from turning cartwheels in my basement.

While pregnant last summer, I began the tradition of napping with Maya daily. I was exhausted from the whole building-a-human-being thing, and we both love to snuggle. It just seemed like a great idea.

Then Elliot was born and the logistics have been all wrong ever since. At least once a week (usually more), they are not synchronized in their napping needs. Maya simply can’t fall asleep with a chattering (or crying) baby in the room with her, and Elliot just isn’t ready for a set schedule.

For a week and a half I have required Maya to nap in her own room. She piles her bed full of books and hangs out in there contentedly for the entire two hours of “nap time.” But she doesn’t sleep.

This means I have an overtired, crazy kid for the rest of the day. Potty training has suffered, table manners have suffered…. Elliot and I have suffered.

I was just about to give up. In fact, I told Joe last night that I’m just going to give in and lay down with her for naps (never-mind the fact that I covet the idea of a two-hour span of time with at least one, likely both girls sleeping!).

He told me to hang in there just a few more days.

And today she was asleep within half an hour. Woo hoo.

The transition away from diapers was the same story. We had one awful, really messy week. Then, just as we both about threw in the towel, she started cooperating. Don’t get me wrong. Potty training is ongoing. From here on out, though, she’s trying really hard and we’re down to one kid in diapers.

I actually don’t remember much about my pre-baby life (probably a self-defense mechanism to keep me from obsessing about weekends away, copious sleep, and happy hours), but I’m almost sure that all of those old clichés (darkest before dawn, battening down the hatches, tomorrow is another day…?) apply to life beyond kids as well.

Hooray for naptime. New York Times here I come!

Maya wanted to hold Elliot. She looks concerned doesn't she?

They play together so much now (well, they've started to interact, anyway)!

Motherhood Side-Effect: A Two-Track Mind

Motherhood has made my brain more efficient.

No really.

I’m not talking about traditional multi-tasking. Motherhood is famous for transforming otherwise sane women into organizational machines that can complete four or five different “to-do” items at once. Balancing graduate school, a part-time job, and a new marriage trained me in multi-tasking.

I’m talking about being able to successfully divide my brain into two active trains of thought. Admittedly, neither train of thought is focused on complex cost-benefit analysis or other high-level functions.

Still I impressed myself this morning.

I was reading Maya’s newest literary favorite. Hans Christian Andersen’s Thumbelina. The story became her favorite instantly when we discovered that Thumbelina is renamed Maia on the last page. Maya seemed to think that sharing a name with Thumbelina might mean she will get her own set of wings someday… not a bad thought.

Anyway, I was reading the book for the second time today, and probably the 125th time in a week, when my thoughts drifted to the Gurney’s seed catalog.

Oh yeah, I spent the next several pages of Thumbelina contemplating whether I wanted three raspberry bushes and two blue berry bushes or two elderberry bushes and two blue berry bushes. I started thinking about where I would plant them. From there, I started reminiscing about the feel of the warm, stony sidewalk path on my bare feet, the smell of grilling hamburgers, whether we’ll really get chickens this summer….

“Maia like me Maya,” she interrupted my thoughts. Apparently I was able to daydream rather intensively while reading the entire book. Sure it’s only 15 pages or so, but I must have read all of the words with the right inflection. I always receive enthusiastic heckling if my performance isn’t up to code.

So motherhood has trained my mind to operate on two tracks, simply to avoid the madness that would inevitably follow the 126th reading of a children’s story.

Before motherhood, I heard about this book called The Mommy Brain, and now I think I’m adding it to my reading list on Goodreads. This book simply contradicts the popular wisdom that motherhood dulls your intellectual capacity.

I can’t tell you how useful a two-track brain would have been in my last job. I would not have had to choose between paying attention to loquacious and nonsensical blather at meetings or being completely rude and working on improving my latest grant language. Instead, I could have appeared to participate (nodding and murmuring assent at all the right times) while actually doing my own work.

So that's my story. Now, check out the latest pictures from our weekend trip to the zoo:

Reading the paper before the zoo trip.

Elliot enjoying (hopefully) her ride in the sling.

We said good-bye to our polar bear. He's headed to Chicago for a year or two while they build him a new habitat.

Maya loves the giraffes on a good day...


She particularly loved watching this one stick his tongue out!

I guess 40 degrees seemed warmer when we started the day. Maya turned a little blue and still refused to wear her hat and mittens (but I guess so did mom!).

In Her Own Words

Here are some of our favorite quotes from the last month (and some recent photos of Elliot)!

While coloring on her marker board with vigorous red strokes, Maya said, “I am not drawing anything… Just the News.”

Maya looked at the turtle daddy made out of play dough and asks, “Does he know the muffin man?”

“But I want it!” She exclaims in reference to tv, hot chocolate, scissors, paint, and pretty much anything else. Joe and I would love to be able to use that line in the adult world!

After listening to NPR at breakfast and lunch, I turned it on again at snack time. Maya promptly pushed a chair up to the counter and hit the off button. She looked at me and said sweetly “I turned it off…. It can’t be on all the time.” Of course she’s right.

“Can we go look at the guy,” and “can we go look at the guy’s car,” and “he DID bring a car, yea!” in reference to the sketchy guy that came from Hom furnishings to clean the couch.

“What you laughin’ about guys?” She asks at the dinner table when she suspects we are talking about her.

After eating Chinese food with Grandma, Maya opened her fortune cookie and grabbed the fortune, “Mama, this says Grandpa, grandpa, grandpa!” What a fortune!

Maya found my pumice stone and asked what it was for. I showed her and then she looked at me with that wild, knotted hair and those sweet, long-lashed eyes, and said and the most adult tone she could muster, “I would like to try it if you don’t mind.”

When asked how was your day, she says “absolutely wonderful.”

“Mom, I just love it when you say, ‘Maya, your just the best!’”

We occasionally catch her singing “Everybody wants to be a cat!” from Aristocats over the monitor.

“I don’t like this one, I want a new one” says Maya each time her book or tv show gets within the last two pages or the last five minutes! Clever!

“I’ll get your book for you mama, I really want you to read your book and snuggle!” after I told her I couldn’t read my book because I couldn’t reach it (nursing Elliot, who appeared to be starving!)

“Those kids were touching my baby and that made me so mad so I said that is my baby,” Maya said recapping why she grabbed the handle of Elliot’s bucket and started to swing it wildly back and forth.

“I really don’t see a horsy, but I would like to ride a horsy right now,” she said, randomly interrupting Joe and my conversation about the primaries.

When Maya fell on her bottom on the bench and said “I’m okay with my feathery bottom….” And then a few moments later, while I was still laughing, “I don’t have a feathery bottom.” (I think this came from a TV show).

Cheers!