Round-Up

Here’s your sporadically produced Round-Up. I know you’ve been waiting eagerly for this one, because who doesn’t want to know what I’m doing when I’m not spending my time here, writing? That’s what I thought. So while you’re enjoying that final sugar rush of the holiday season, tree still twinkling in the window, leftovers still fresh in the fridge, enjoy this belated Christmas gift.

The Heathens
You remember The Heathens, right? The little scoundrels we discussed in this post? Well, they got golf clubs for Christmas. ALL OF THEM. How do I know they got golf clubs? Because they were at the park committing arborcide yet again. I’m surprised they weren’t wearing their karate uniforms and shooting paintball guns at squirrels, too.

How squirrels feel about the Heathens.

How squirrels feel about the Heathens.

We have a “no heathen” rule in our house. Miles – and all future sons – are banned from exhibiting any heathen-like behavior. Guess what Mr. and Mrs. Heathen got for Christmas? Matching Lexuses. Lexi? Lexusi? I’m not sure how you pluralize “obnoxious” but that’s what Santa brought them. Mrs. Heathen even got a pink bedazzled license plate cover. Barf.

The Crunch Off
Let me preface this by saying I’m not that crunchy mama, but on a scale of Fig Newton to Mama Earth Arrowroot Cookies, I’d probably fall somewhere in line with a Pepperidge Farms Sausalito (side note: DROOL). Here’s what I’ve learned: No matter how crunchy you think you are, there’s someone crunchier. And if you boast about your crunchiness (which I would never do because I’m lazy, and my buggy probably has some non-organic produce in it because I’m also thrifty) someone is going to out-crunchy you. Before you know it, you’ve entered The Crunch Off. For every cloth diaper you’ve changed, someone else is teaching her kids “elimination communication” (Google it). And for every mama going with elimination communication, some other mama is taking her kid’s poop and adding it to her compost bin outside (Google that, too). And for every mama with a compost bin, there’s another mama using Family Cloth (GOOGLE IT. I DARE YOU. No, don’t…it’s toilet paper you wash. Feeling crunchy?)

Hate your hubby's lumberjack shirt?  PROBLEM SOLVED.

Hate your hubby’s lumberjack shirt? PROBLEM SOLVED.

So, moms of granola and non-granola alike, can we just stop it already with the one-upmanship? It’s so lame and aggravating. Parenting really comes down to one thing: love. Also, feeding them and keeping them clean, but that should be part of the love. As long as you’re loving your kids, and caring for them in the best way for your family, you’re getting an A+ from me. Also, Doritos moms, stop telling the crunchy moms that they’re weird, because it’s not nice. At least we never have to clean orange cheese dust off our furniture.

Nightmares
I think I’ve mentioned before that we are big fans of The Wonder Weeks. At 36 weeks old, Miles is in his sixth phase of mental development, called the “World of Categories.” The book tells you that he’s starting to group things in categories. For example, a picture of a cow, a stuffed cow and a live cow are all in the category of “cows” (yes, I realize that sounds simple, but remember…Miles still eats his toes). Each leap in development has its own challenges. I will brag and say that for the most part, Miles has had very few fussy moments during these leaps. The app gives you a chart with sunshine and rain clouds so you can track where your baby’s mood might be. Miles currently has a picture of a looming black storm cloud with a huge bolt of lightning. Nice thought, huh? Anyway, one of the new things that can begin during this development: NIGHTMARES. So this is what I get for bragging about what a good sleeper my son is…last night, starting at 1:30a and every 90 minutes until 7a, he woke up. Sometimes he would cry, sometimes he would talk, sometimes he would just crawl around his crib and bang on the rails. But there was crying, and he was asleep. Suffice to say, we’re thinking we’ve had our first nightmare. Of course, when Miles woke up this morning you’d think he had 12 hours of beautiful sleep at a Swedish spa, because he was rip-roarin’ and ready to go. I, on the other hand, needed two cups of coffee. Let’s hope tonight is more…peaceful?

EDITED TO ADD:  The “up every 90 minutes” fiasco from last night?  Mystery solved…WE HAVE A TOOTH! HALLELUJAH! I thought this kid would be toothless until being toothless is okay (i.e. when he could wear dentures).

Cheers to the weekend and GLORIOUS NAPS TO BE HAD,
Kristin

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