I can type!

I can type lots and lots of words hahaha! For the last probably 6 months I've been limited to typing, if you can call finger plunking typing, on my Ipad. We busted all our computers so its been a long wait till now. My new computer is lovely and I can type to my hearts content as long as I don't mind that my fingers are turning into icicles is this frigid basement.
So just to catch you up on whats going on...
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Just play mom. We play make believe most of the day. Usually our play involves robots or babies. Sometimes there are so many imaginary beings in our house I start to feel nervous that the landlord will up the rent. I love watching Lizzie smile and grow and learn, except when its learning how to use toys to get high enough to pull full bowls of oatmeal off the table. I have taken to painting my nails a couple times a week with the help of my Julep subscription. I play makeup, thanks to my Ipsy subscription. I eat a lot of crap food, with a little help from Brady's Treatsie subscription.  I watch Scandal, The Walking Dead, and Downton Abby. We play with our Russian neighbors pretty much every day. We are a good match, if only the 3 year old could speak English. Poor Aurora must be frustrated about that.
The days are long here and the weeks are short.
Right now I'm working on our taxes, getting my pictures off of my iPad and iPhone, a First Year photo book for Lizzie, and a blog book of my second pregnancy. So this computer is gonna get right to work for me.
But I am also gonna start getting my mind to think and write here. Its good exercise. I think it will revive me flabby brain cells.
Oh it feels good to type again. I'll do it again soon.

I'm missing it

I'm missing it. My time with these little ones is so limited. They grow faster and faster. They are cuter than I ever imagined. They love to play and have fun. They love me I can tell and waiting for me. I'm wanting to be up narrating a fantastic adventure while we jump over couch cushions and hide under blankets. But I'm not with them. I'm in the middle of a busy street, concentrating on keeping between the solid yellow lines and there is a voice yelling at me in a thick accent. It's demanding I solve mathematic equations or it will throw tomatoes at me and I will lose balance and fall into traffic's way. Only the voice is actually my child's and she is saying she wants me and needs me and it feels like she is tightening a rope around my neck. Each shriek and whine tightens my chest. I never want to get out of bed. I'm doing the best I can, which isn't good enough.  I am being cheated of my life by my brain chemistry. 

My baby does not like to sleep

My baby does not like  to sleep. She will not do it with my boobie. She will not do it watching a movie. She doesn't want to rock in a chair. She doesn't want to anywhere. She will not sleep bouncing on a ball. She doesn't while I'm pacing down the hall. She will not sleep when she cries it out. She doesn't tire while I pat it out.  She doesn't relax while I'm in the room. She doesn't sleep in her swaddle costume. She doesn't care about pick up put down. She won't sleep driving through town. She will not sleep through the night. She will not ever sleep without a fight. 

I am the great and powerful

Today was a day worth remarking. I conquered the world today. It all started with Kangoo. A workout named after kangaroos my friends is a workout worth trying. You strap on bouncy boots and accelerate your heartbeat to full blast and it ain't easy to keep that up. Especially when you had a couple babies and haven't kept up on your kegals. You don't have to run to get a runners high. At the workouts completion I might as well have added the ladies in my class to list of people to buy Christmas crap for. When you go through tough stuff with people they become family. Even if the tough stuff is over after 60 minutes. 

Then there was some regular stuff that happened At the house. Mothering the babes and what not. 

But then I busted the boundaries of what can and can't be done with kids. My ugly yard just keeps getting uglier waiting for a day when someone can watch the kids so I can take care of things. But then I thought a glorious thought I CAN DO THIS NOW. So I did it! I conquered those hedges! I chopped down those weed stalks. I got out the ol heavy duty extension cord, put sensitive Aurora in the rocking chair on the inside of the glass where I could keep an eye on her and the teething baby in her excersaucer near me and those little chicas beheld how awesome their mother is when she kicks the shit out of ugly overgrowth. 

Now that's a powerful woman who can take care of what needs to be done so that time isn't wasted wishing and waiting. 

ROOOAAR 

Three is a like eating chocolate chip cookies full of gritty sand

 

I am Aurora. 

I don't talk because I'm a cat. I only meow. But when I do talk, I ask why. Why cant I hit the cat? Why will he not like it? Why does it hurt him? Why can't I have 3 Popsicles. I don't like when you talk to me mom. Go away, but Mom play with me. I need you. Make my stuffed animal talk.  I want, I want, I want, I need, why can't I? 

Happy Horrible Cake Birthday Brady

Yesterday in the cake mix isle Aurora said "I have a geat idea! Lets go to the ice cream store and get a cake!" I shoulda listened. This cake is hideous. 

You Can, I Know It

Today I stood by my three year old as she inched her feet around the swirly that after probably eight rotations poles over to the peek of the jungle gym. She went ever so painfully slow and careful. She grinned and squeeled above my head as she was triumphant again and again. Up and down bout 3 times before She slipped. Thankfully she held on with a hand and did not fall or hurt herself much. She cried a moment and then went again. She got up again about halfway before I saw hesitation. I asked, "Are you going to make it?" Immediately I realized I was a hypocrite. Let me explain. 

When I struggle and meltdown, but then pick myself up and try to keep going I abhore questions like "Are you going to be alright?" It feels like such a ridiculous thing to ask a person whose just used half a box of tissue. How can someone whose not alright possibly make someone else confident that they actually are alright. They are still trying to figure it out. 

So after asking my daughter if she was going to make it, I was now doubting her ability to climb to the top successfully again. But like I cannot immediately answer whether I am going to be alright for those who witness my weakness, she could not predict if she would fall again. What she needed was someone to steady her feet and strengthen her resolve to make it. "You can make it!" I told her. That's what she always needs to hear. I need to be her cheerleader. Even when doubt enters my mind I want to cover it with belief in her and her abilities to succeed. I know that my confidence in her can give her the strength she will need to grow into a strong self confident woman.