Belly and The Bug: January 2010

Oh peeps

I've been wanting to blog, but my energy has been at about -26. These girls. My god. Belly has continued the screaming every single nap time for the last week and a half. I can't separate them because a) I don't have a safe place to do that and b) they freak even more if they're not by each other (at least I'm pretty positive that would be the case). Buggy cries for a couple minutes and then plays quietly, but Belly goes for eleven on the volume every single day. Today it was a solid 45 minutes of screaming. I have no other ideas, which means no other options, so it is just continuing.

And can we talk about the "No! MINE!" for a minute? And the pushing? And the hitting? And the hair pulling?

I'm so at the end of my rope, I'm thinking about building a tree fort in the back yard so I can have a place all to myself. I will pull up the rope ladder and listen to music and pretend I'm 22 with not a care in the world. Or I might run away and sit by some hotel pool for a week wearing large sunglasses, sipping vodka drinks, and telling anyone who asks, "Je regret. Je parle le francais seulement." Or I might... I don't know. Something has to give.

Sorry this isn't a funny, fun glimpse into life at Chez BellyBuggy, but this is reality. I'm aching for fantasy. Positively aching at the moment.

Day 3

They still chose the screaming option. I wanted to shoot myself. What happens if we get to, say, the end of next week and they're still screaming for 30+ minutes when they wake up from nap and are forced to stay in their room until the music stops? I need to explore my options. I want to have a back-up plan. Suggestions?

Taking the reins

As my last post about life with children indicated, something needed to change around here. And so I've instituted a new nap time policy. First, I had Dude put a hook-and-eye on the outside of the girls' bedroom door. Then I told the girls that nap time goes to the end of the cd. I will lie down with them until they are asleep, but if they wake up and the music is still playing, nap time isn't over. They have several choices at that point: a) scream, cry, pound the door and call for me; b) lie back down and either sleep some more or just rest quietly; or c) read some books or play quietly. No matter what they choose to do, I will be downstairs until the music stops.

Yesterday was Day 1. It totally freaking sucked. Both girls went for option A for about half an hour. I called over the monitor several times to remind them that I was just downstairs and would be up when the music stopped. At the appropriate time, I went upstairs to find them both lying on the bed covered in snot and tears, still screaming.

Day 2 is a little better, but not much. The Bug woke up about 10 minutes ago (there's still a good 15-20 minutes of music left). She cried for about 5 minutes and then started to peter off, but now Belly is going full throttle, "Mommymommymommymommymommymommy..."

They'll get used to this routine, right? I mean, I know they will, but right now is downright miserable for all of us. I'm not exactly enjoying having a "break" when I'm spending the whole time feeling like I should rescue my kids from their own personal hell. But then I'm in hell by not getting a break.

To top it all off, Dude is sick in bed. He has a doctor's appointment in an hour, but he's pretty sure that it's a sinus infection.

Both girls are now raging in full effect up there.

Welcome to the happy house.

Looking for love in all the wrong places

So yesterday afternoon, Dude and I went out for some pints and Gin Rummy at the Lucky Labrador while Bri and Sissy hung with our girlies. It was pretty random and fun and I must say that Dude was waaaaaay ahead until I came from behind and totally spanked his ass at cards. That's right. I'm gloating. I rocked it.

Anyway, we were starting to wind things down when two women in their 30s came and sat at the table next to us with their beer. I couldn't help but eavesdrop. Oh my. The one with the short, dominatrix-ish bob talked a mile a minute. She started out by saying that she'd just slept with someone who informed her immediately afterward that he wasn't over his ex-girlfriend and that means that there are now only three guys in town that she hasn't dated and they are... (she actually named names here). Then she said that so-and-so broke his foot so she needs a new riding partner and she's taking a drawing class and there are some really great nude male models in Portland. "There's this one? Who is really little? I mean, like, EVERYTHING about him is really small. Here. Look. I took a picture." At this she pulled out her iPhone and the two of them gushed about how tiny he is.

My God, women! How old are you? Their shallow prater was just... painful. I looked across the table at my dear husband and felt very grateful that I'm not single. I also realized that - if I should ever find myself in that most unfortunate predicament - I can handle the competition. Ugh.

I'm under attack

Things have been pretty difficult on the parenting front lately. The girls are just... I don't know... really hard on me. EVERYTHING is about pushing my buttons and seeing how far they can go. I'm feeling like a crappy mom because I'm yelling all the time, constantly saying no.

Monday was insane. I took the girls to Swap 'n Play in the morning. That was fine. They fell asleep in the truck about five minutes from home. I called Dude and asked if he'd help me carry them in to bed. We got them up there, but then Buggy woke up 15 minutes later. And she woke up Belly. I crawled in bed with them to get them back asleep, but they were being punky - goofing around, sticking fingers in my eyes and ears, popping their heads up and laughing at each other. I very calmly told them that this was nap time. If they didn't want to nap, they could read books or play with toys, but they needed to stay in their room. Mommy was going to go downstairs. They started to cry and both said, "No! Snuggle Mommy!" So everyone cuddled up again. Within 30 seconds they were doing it again. And again, I warned that I was going to go downstairs unless people wanted to sleep. It didn't stop. So I said that I was going downstairs and I'd be back in ten minutes. I got up and walked out. Both girls started SCREAMING and reaching over the gate in their doorway as I walked away. I came downstairs, but I could still hear them. So I grabbed the monitor and headed to the family room in the basement. I turned on the monitor just enough that I could see the red light "activity indicator" but not have any volume. It was maxing out over and over and over. I felt like crap. But you know what? They are two years old. They can't hang out in their room by themselves for ten minutes? What happens if they scream that whole time? Are they going to be permanently scarred? I didn't think that would be the case, so I stayed down there for ten whole minutes. The red lights never stopped going.

Exactly ten minutes later, I came back up. I could hear the screaming as I got closer but it seemed muffled somehow. What was going on up there? I walked up the stairs and turned down the hall to see Dude sitting in the hallway holding their door shut. WTF?

Dude had been sitting in his office on the phone with his business partner. He heard the screaming (seriously - the whole block probably heard the screaming), but then all of a sudden Belly was screaming a LOT closer than before. In fact, he heard her pounding on the gate at the top of the stairs. He got off the phone. Somehow, Belly had gotten over the gate in the doorway of their room (a first!). Dude returned a screaming Belly to her room with her screaming sister and went back in his office. Pretty soon, the screams were getting closer again. He went back in the hall to see Belly running down the hall and Buggy literally flipping over the gate, landing on her back in the hallway. He told them that they needed to stay in their room, took down the gate, shut the door, and quickly realized that they could easily open the door. So there he sat - sitting in the hallway, holding the door closed until I came back up.

What a disaster.

The afternoon continued with the girls doing their best to make me insane. I have no doubt they were trying to get even with me. Late in the day I remembered that I needed to reset the dehumidifier and went down to the basement for, oh, 45 seconds. I shut the door from the kitchen behind me so that no little people followed. As I was coming up the basement stairs, I heard some fumbling with the doorknob. Belly locked me downstairs. She freaking locked me downstairs. I could go out the back door and let myself in the front door, but the back door needs a key to unlock it - a key that was in the kitchen. Fortunately, I had my phone on me so I called Dude and had him let me back in.

I hear that the terrible twos got nothin' on three. Really? REALLY?? I'm not sure I'm going to make it.

A new year, a new boyfriend, and some Little House on the Prairie

Whelp, lemme tell you that NYE was perfectly fine. Dude and I got some amazing Indian takeout, opened yummy wine, made a fire, put a Muse station on Pandora and talked well past midnight. It wasn't a wild dance party, but it certainly wasn't boring either. Sometimes it feels like we get so bogged down in parenting (and bills and chores but especially parenting) that we lose track of each other. It's such a challenge to balance (his) work time, family time, alone time and couple time. There's just not enough time in the day. Or sometimes the week. Or - I hate to admit this, but it's true - the month. I'm not talking physical intimacy here, but bonding, engaging couple time wherein we're not discussing Belly and Buggy the whole time. New Year's Eve found the two of us having just that kind of special time - and both acknowledging that we need to find more of it. So, I'm taking a boyfriend in 2010. And that boyfriend is Dude.

And with that, we had a date on Saturday night! Bri babysat and we went to HUB for dinner, followed by bowling at Grand Central Bowl. SO fun! I think I've bowled exactly twice (counting last night) in the last 12 or 13 years. It's really an activity that requires alcohol. The more I drink, the better I am. We played two games with pretty pathetic scores - the first he won 85-83 and the second I won 111-100. I think with another vanilla vodka and coke and one more game, I may have broken 150. I might also have puked.

So complete non sequitor...

I have two Little House on the Prairie tidbits for you. The first is from McSweeney's and I thought it was hilarious!

The second is a beautiful set of LHOTP coasters that Erika made for me for Christmas. Check it:

Aren't they fantastic? I love them!!

Belly and The Bug