Cirque du Soleil

Watching the Australian Open -- Sharapova grunts so loud, I have to turn the volume down or else she'll wake LO.  She just beat Kvitova, which means the final on Saturday is going to be Sharapova v. Azarenka, the tour's loudest grunters.  The Daily Mail measured Maria's grunts to be equivalent to a small aircraft landing.  I've experienced both of them in person and it's no joke.  I may have to watch with the volume completely OFF.

LO loves watching tennis with us.  We're tennis junkies and it's already rubbing off on her.  When I was pregnant, I worked at the French Open, Wimbledon and the US Open as the Field Producer for the TV broadcasts.  By the time the US Open rolled around, I was so pregnant, I could barely bend over to pick up the camera.  Ironically, the first time I ever felt her move was in my hotel room after a long day at the Open.  I'm convinced she had seen a match she liked that day and wanted to let me know about it.  She's probably the only baby that had been to the Slams by the time she was born!  I got her a t-shirt back then that finally fits her.

Also in the entertainment department, we took LO to Cirque du Soleil's "Ovo" at the Santa Monica pier.  I thought she'd want to leave after 10 minutes.  She was scared at the beginning, clinging to Daddy and shouting to turn the lights on, but she quickly became enamored with the show.  She was totally interested in the giant egg, the funny insects and the acrobats.  She's still talking about them.  "I love acrobats!" she's been saying ever since, jumping and trying to do somersaults in the house.  If you're looking for an activity, try the matinee.  LO loved it, but we did meet another mom who brought her 2-year-old for his birthday and he refused to go back inside a few minutes into the show.  So I guess it depends on the child, but certainly worth the gamble!



http://www.cirquedusoleil.com/en/shows/ovo/default.aspx

Short Attention Span Theatre

Here's the latest.  Naps are forming around 1:30pm these days.  LO refuses to sleep before 8pm.  This battle has recently turned into some bedtimes for her after 10pm.  Knock down, drag out marathons where we try to cajole/sweet talk/force her to sleep.  It's not that she can't sleep, she can't sit still long enough to feel how tired she is.  Reading books at bedtime is another challenge because she'd rather run in circles in her room and wants me to do it with her.  This inability to sit still is also apparent at bath time.  She either refuses to get in entirely or dips in, then by the time she's soapy, screams to get out.  Rinsing off has become one of us holding her while the other sprays.  Nice.

Here's an example of how quickly she goes from bliss to boredom:

In fact, while sitting in my lap on the sofa the other night, she turned to me and said, "Mommy, I'm bored."  This morning her first words upon waking were, "Mommy, I can't take it. Any. More."  What "it" is, I don't know.  Is this just part of the terrible twos?  I feel like she's soaking in the world at such a rapid pace, it's staggering just to watch.

23 Months

According to the stats, I had 4 page views from Russia this week.  To all my comrades, Holla.

LO just turned 23 months.  This means her 2nd birthday is right around the corner.  The big dilemma is do we throw a big expensive party or just celebrate with family?  Looks like the bouncy castle will have to wait another year.  We've decided to have a small gathering with family since Gram and Gramps are in town and now my sister and brother-in-law might fly in for the occasion as well.  So instead of the bouncy castle, I'm going to enlist Uncle J to play horsey with LO until she's had her fill, which could be hours.

In the I-Don't-Know-Where-She-Gets-That department, LO has taken to telling me what to do with a vengeance.  When I tried to put her to bed, she clings to Daddy and says "Mommy go out.  See you next time!"  "Mommy food!" was the directive I got tonight.  She now calls her Yo Gabba Gabba dolls her "guys" and "everybody" and wants them to go everywhere with her.  Before we go out, she puts them in her diaper bag to bring along.  They sleep with her too.  And in the mornings, I have to carry them downstairs, of course.  She used to try to carry them all herself and scream whenever one fell out of her grasp.  Now she's wised up and just tells me to "Carry everybody, Mommy.  Bring them."  We moved her from a toddler bed to a twin bed (a mattress on the floor), and her first words when seeing it were, "It's perfect!"  And, as she pushed her little cart around the house, she said, "I help with the shopping."

The best, however, came a few days ago.  LO hugged me and declared, "I love you, Mommy."  I'm still smiling.

Where's Christmas?

LO's first words after coming downstairs on December 26 were, "Where's Christmas?"  That's exactly how I feel.  It came and went super fast, maybe because we hosted relatives and when you're entertaining plus chasing after a toddler, you have no concept of time.  I was completely exhausted for days afterward.  LO's favorite present was from Mommy and Daddy, a pink retro play kitchen filled pots, plates and fake food.  She can't get enough of this thing.  The sad part is she has more utensils than I do.  I borrowed her whisk the other day to finish off my cupcakes.

Here's what LO had to say about it:

80's Love Songs and KY Jelly

It's that time of year again when employees around the world are forced to do the White Elephant gift exchange game with their peers.  If you're looking for ideas on what to get for yours, here's one:

My boss was 4 feet tall, red-headed, insecure and hated other women.  In a department of her hand-picked men, I was the lone female.  I guess she kept me around because I was good at my job, but really I think it was her sheer joy in letting her inner bitch out on me.  Stuff like not inviting me to group lunches, "forgetting" to include me in important email exchanges and meetings.  She wasn't the first insecure woman I'd worked for and the first one was no picnic either.  

Christmas time came around and it was time for the department White Elephant party.  Boss Bitch took us to a nice restaurant where I had to suffer through the boys kissing up to her shamelessly.  She didn't mind, the male attention for her was intoxicating.  I quietly sipped my cocktail and smiled along.  Then came time for the gift exchange.  Boss Bitch was known for giving humorous gifts to match her twisted unique sense of humor, but then again that's the fun of the whole concept.  I played it straight and brought a wine bottle opener or something like that.  I was geared up and ready to tolerate it all nonetheless.

When it came to my turn, I had options.  I could steal the caramel popcorn the guy next to me had or I could pick a new gift.  I decided to go for it -- pick a new one.  I ran my hand over the pile of packages, feeling their vibes.  I picked the one with the dowdiest paper, thinking it was probably my assistant's.  I opened the package to find an '80's smooth love songs CD and a pack of KY Jelly in various flavors.  I looked up at Boss Bitch, who was laughing so hard and loud she was snorting.  She had been waiting all night for this moment and somehow, randomly, I was the lucky recipient.  The whole table was in stitches, yet I felt strangely violated.  Isn't this harassment, I wondered?  Why me?  Why didn't I just take the popcorn?

Boss Bitch must've felt bad later because she tried to steal her gift back when it was her turn.  But I wouldn't let go of my prize, no no.  I took it home and showed it to DH, who reminded me to start looking for a new job, right after depositing my gift in the trash.

You Mean, She Can't Stay in a Crib Forever?

Over the past couple of weeks, we made the move from crib to toddler bed.  Sniff, sniff.  

LO loves her new digs, especially tunneling in the little comforter.  But for the most part, she still sleeps curled up in a ball with her face planted into the mattress.  The first night, she fell out.  The second day, I came to get her after her nap and she was sleeping on the floor in front of her closet.  Now she pretty much stays in the bed but wakes up A LOT during the night.  

This transition has been a bit scary because the concept of LO being able to get out of her bed on her own opens up a whole new world.  We had to baby-proof her room and put a gate at the top of the stairs so she doesn't wander the house at night.  At 21 months, I guess I'm not prepared for LO to have this level of independence.  It's really a loss of mommy freedom.  The crib was a place I could put her and know she was safe and that she'd stay put.  Until she figured out how to get her leg over the side.  Now the crib has been disassembled and sent to collect dust in the garage along with the changing table.  (Fifty bucks to anyone who can get her to lie on it).    

Another milestone in the books.  And they keep coming.  Next week: training pants!

There Is No Manual For This

There is no manual for being a mommy.  It's the world's most important job (daddies too) and you're on your own.  Usually, when you start a new job, they send you through some kind of training or indoctrination course, like when I worked at Disney.  But not this job.  Motherhood is trial by fire.  The stakes are high and there are no re-dos.  You can't just hit the BACK button.

Sure, there's plenty of advice out there if you look for it.  Actually, you may get it without asking, as people you don't know tend to do when they see your baby bump or screaming toddler in a supermarket.  You've got your own parents at the ready, willing to share unwanted advice, and you've got parenting classes and a multitude of books written by "experts" who want to tell you what to do but you're open to it because they're not your parents.

The book I've consulted most is the ever popular "What to Expect When You're Expecting," then "What to Expect: The First Year" and now "What to Expect: The Toddler Years."  I'm sure one day I'll be reading "What to Expect: The 'I Hate You' Years."  These books have been helpful at times, particularly while I was pregnant, but now I just find them annoying.  For every problem, their answer is the same -- it's okay.  It's okay that your child isn't eating much, don't worry, it's normal.  It's okay that you took your baby out shopping all day and she didn't get to nap.  It's o-kay.  It's not just these books; it's everything I read these days from parenting magazines to experts' websites.  Motherhood is hard, they seem to be saying.  You're excused from flying into that rage at your toddler for taking a magic marker to your sofa because mommies have feelings too and it's okay to trip up every now and then.  Really?

Which leads me to a young mommy I saw on my flight back from Austin last weekend.  She's no doubt been reading all of this literature and just letting it fly.  It started when she hit me in the security line with her stroller, but that's beside the point.  She tried to put her two-year-old into an open seat without her having a separate ticket, then caused a scene with the flight attendant for following the rules.  This caused our takeoff to be delayed.  The child screamed throughout the flight and this mother, I believe, was only making it worse.  She jerked the little girl out of her seat, hitting her head on the overhead bin, kept yelling at her to be quiet and generally ignoring the girl's needs.  After landing, she apologized out loud to the entire plane for her daughter, who was simply acting like a normal two-year-old.  All I could do was feel for that child and how bad her mom was making her feel.

A bunch of us waited for our checked-in carry-on luggage to be brought out, including this mom.  She sat the squirming girl on the ground, pointed her finger and said, "Sit!" as if she was a dog.  Of course, she didn't.  The mom continued out loud to everyone, "I'm not having another kid.  My husband wants one but I said no way, I'm not going through this (re: her daughter) again."  "This is reason for birth control right here."  I couldn't take it anymore.  I walked over and struck up a conversation just to shut her up.  I even offered to watch her daughter for a minute while she grabbed her bag and stroller.  Help a fellow mommy out, I thought.  But it was as if she couldn't hear me.  Or maybe didn't want to.  And just went on complaining.  I offered one last time, got my bag and left.  I felt bad for that mom, but what I really felt bad about what that poor child.

I never want to make my child feel that way.  No matter how overstressed I may get, no matter how many articles in parenting magazines say it's okay, I know better.  I came home and hugged LO and promised her quietly to always put her first and she said..."Okay."