That Evil Blog...

There must be some kind of evil Blog Jinx out there.

It seems that every time I mention how well Joseph is doing on this blog, he does something terrible. If it gets bad enough, I may have to stop posting about my kids!
He has not slept through the night since Thanksgiving. Thursday night, it was up at 3:15. Then Friday night, 3:11. Saturday night was 11:40 p.m. and then again at 4 a.m.. Sunday night was only at 12:35, but still. It's enough to kill a young mother. Or at least make her feel very, very old for a week. As a result, I am going to ramble through this post until I feel that you have been sufficiently caught up, O Gentle Reader.

Thanksgiving was beautiful. There were thirty of us at my grandparents' house, and we were even missing some! Houston was gorgeous that day, and we had extra tables set up in the back yard. Everyone was outside most of the afternoon, and the kids had a great time running around. All the adults played "pass the baby" with Joseph, so I actually got to have a hot meal. I love my family.



I am hoping to get my act together enough this week to start decorating for Christmas. I have to be careful to set out only the minimum of things that I need to make me feel happy, though. I must remember that I will have no time to take it all down after the holidays; and with Moriah's birthday coming soon after, it must come down. I love the Christmas season, and I ain't afraid to bring it when it comes to decorating.

On Friday night after dinner, I got us all in the car and we drove down Post Oak to show Moriah all the lights. I felt like I was on the drag in Brownwood, because we made a U-turn and drove down a few times (that's a shout-out to all my old HPU friends there - I'm not going to explain that one). We listened to Christmas music the whole time, and Mike didn't object. Mike doesn't love Christmas as much as I do, but he should. We even got married in December, and I had live trees behind us on the stage. It smelled so pretty up there. I just realized that I'm making myself sound like one of those crazies who go hog-wild with the holiday spirit. Trust me, I haven't touched the egg nog...

For the second time in the last few days we have had breakfast for dinner. This is due to my post-pregnancy inability to focus, and poor planning. I forget to thaw the meat until too late. Saturday night we had sourdough buttermilk biscuits, and tonight's dinner was bacon & egg nests and pancakes. One of these days I'm going to have a party and just serve biscuits. I feel the need to share my love of biscuits with everyone.

I already shared this with my family today, but it bears repeating. I overheard Moriah say today, "Don't worry, Joseph. I'm just painting your hair blue." Turns out that she was playing beauty shop, and Joseph was the lucky recipient of a pretend-makeover. And because of the evil Blog Jinx, I am certain that in the next few days I will be posting a picture of Joseph with his newly painted hair, only not pretending.

Drawing a Blank on a Clever Title, So I'll Just Call This "Post Number 238"

I am officially in a new stage of motherhood, and it is not for the faint of heart, I tell you.

I well remember this stage after Moriah was born. We have come through the hardest part of having a baby, and now everyone is sleeping well and we are becoming more consistent and predictable in the routine for Joseph. We are certainly not lacking challenges, as Joseph is still a major "mama's boy." He tolerates being "alone" (which is defined as not being held) for only so long, and then he pitches quite a screaming fit until I pick him up. This happens several times a day, but he's just going to have to learn that he is not the only one in this house.

We are now in the stage where Mama gets restless. I am much more aware of what I am doing than I was the first time around. I can see and relate easily to how women become emotional eaters. In the moments just after both kids nod off for their afternoon naps, I have found myself looking for something to eat. Same thing after we tuck them in at night. I feel this crazy urge to go somewhere, or eat something, or call someone, or consume a great amount of caffeine. I don't realize how stressed I am until I sit down for a moment, and the muscles in my shoulders begin to ache terribly. When I get out of bed in the mornings, I notice that my mouth is sore from clenching my teeth throughout the night.

I was telling Nancy the other night after we played Bunko that I have lost all social skills. I get around the other 11 ladies, and I feel like all I do is stare at everyone. I have nothing to say, and would have no idea how to say it anyway. I talk to a baby and a preschooler all day. I stepped into the elevator a few weeks ago and sort of introduced myself to the brother of a guy I went to college with at HPU. Except all I could get out was, "I went to school with your brother." Then nothing. Nothing else came out. All I could do was look at my kids. He said, "I thought you looked familiar." Maybe next time I see him, I can apologize and give him a name to go with the face. Except then I'd have to explain why I'm an idiot lately, and he does not look like he's at the age when he would give a rip about my postpartum stupidity. I would most definitely make myself look worse, and that is assuming I could come up with an explanation for him other than, "DUH..."

This stage is when I begin to struggle with shutting things down at night. I relish the few hours of quiet, when I can catch up on email and blogs, or watch TV, or just have a few complete thoughts. This is the lovely time when no one needs me. As a result, I stay up entirely too late at night. My body wants so badly to sleep, but I just don't want to leave my quiet place. I have dozed off with my laptop on the couch more than once. It is so pitiful, I know.

Alright. Dishes are staring at me, and I do not want to be confronted by my enemy first thing in the morning. There is no beautiful conclusion to this post tonight. I have to shut it off. I am so sorry, Mrs. Neighbors - you taught me how to write concluding paragraphs, but it just isn't happening tonight. Please don't whip out the red pen on me.

Little Miss Moriah

(sigh)
I love Moriah so much. She is at the stage where she has fully embraced everything in her personality: strong will, fantastic sense of humor, and passionate about life. She remains in the "sponge" stage, where she soaks up absolutely everything she can learn. We have had great discussions, hearty laughter, and much drama around here in the last three months. As much as I adore her and love her curiosity, I have decided today that I will no longer explain myself every time I give her an instruction. I am making the conscious decision to say, "Because I said so." It is my right as a mother, and from now on, I am exercising my right.

Here are a few examples that showcase her personality:

She wants someone to sympathize with her when she is hurt. Usually we hear, "Owwww...I pinched/bumped/scratched my elbow/finger/toe/knee!" Then after a 5 second pause, "Mama, have you done that before??"

I believe that deep down inside, she really wanted a sister. She once told the cashier at Central Market that the tortillas and yogurt she was holding was for her new baby sister. She tells me all the time that her sister is doing such-and-such, or that she's making something for her sister. Some children have imaginary friends. Moriah has an imaginary sister. Her imaginary friend used to be Clint Black, so I think I'd rather her imagine the sister.

She comes up with all sorts of silly names for Joseph. This morning, it was "Chunky Pie." That one might stick with me.

She can recite the "Plaadge Allegiance." "With liverty and justice for all."

Last week she was asking questions, and she asked me when was God born. Somehow the conversation went all the way to the Holy Spirit. The conclusion of my explanation was along the lines of, "That's how Jesus can live in our hearts." She looked at me very seriously and said, "And that's why we say the Plaadge Allegiance." No...not quite. Another night, I was trying to explain one of her books to her, and she was looking at me very intently. I say, "God made you to be so special." She says, "Mama? Why do you have curly hair?" Guess that's the end of that conversation!

I went to the Nord on Thursday, and didn't tell Moriah I was going. She would have wanted to skip class. When we were on the way home, I told her I had bought some new shoes at the Nord. She perked up and said, "I can't wait to see them!" As soon as we got Joseph in bed, I showed her all of my things. She opened the shoe box and immediately wanted to wear them. I let her, of course. Then I gave her the crayons and place mat from the Bistro, as well as the little chocolate-minty-stick-thingy they give you, and she started to clap and say "Oh yay!" She bent down close to me and said excitedly, "What did you have for lunch??" I love that she was so excited that someone else got to go. I would have been jealous.

She has also figured out that when I'm feeding Joseph, I will not get up unless it is absolutely necessary. Therefore, if I am telling her to do something, she will walk away from me while I am talking. It's funny when I step outside of myself and think about it. Not so funny in the moment. She will also argue with me until I am blue in the face. Which brings me to my first point of making the decision to incorporate the "Because I said so," phrase into my discipline repertoire. What I don't know what to do about is when she completely ignores me and my instructions.

Which brings me back to the sighing. I love Moriah so much.