No More Babies Sleepin' in the Crib

I was so scared to move them into the toddler bed. I just knew it would mean the end of sleep as I know it. I knew they'd be up and down constantly and I'd lose absolute control over the night. The night--my night. My downtime. My necessary few hours of the night that I am off duty. I've so far been very lucky in this area. They've always been great sleepers and I've always been great at the routine. They know what to expect. I know what to expect:

They're going to bed at 8:00 or 8:30, period.

Ethan has been able to climb out of the crib for a long time now, but he doesn't. He stays in the crib with his sister and they chat, sing, and fall asleep. When I go in to check on them, no words are spoken if they are awake. It is the time of  disengagement. It's a look, maybe a re-position of limbs, an un-stack, an un-tangle, a spread of the blanket, but absolutely no words are spoken.

Not long before the big transition, Ethan started requesting a stuffed animal to sleep with, usually his little monkey. So I'd give him his monkey and Emma my old favorite stuffed mouse, Fredrick, to snuggle and they were happy. They seemed to feel like they were given an extra, a perk.

One night when Rodney checked on them before bed, he came to me and said, "Did you give the kids all kinds of stuffed animals?? Go look at them!" I went in to their room and Ethan was sitting upright, awake, and Emma was buried in stuffed animals.... Every stuffed animal in their room, big and small, was in the crib on top of sleeping Emma and all around Ethan, and he was just sitting there, dead pan in the corner of the crib: "Yep, that oughtta do it."

It was then that I knew that the crib had run its course. It was time to make use of the toddler bed that had previously only been used for monkey-jumping. Yet, I was frozen in the habit of the crib, not completely willing to let go of the baby nights, the singing and rocking and then carrying babies over and lowering their ever-getting-heavy bodies into the safety of the crib, and the the false sense of security that it provided me.

Kacie babysat one night and when the kids fell asleep, she laid them in their toddler bed. She couldn't reach into the crib as I can, so she unknowingly, out of necessity, moved the kids into the next step of their lives. I bet she didn't know how significant that moment was...not until we came home.

When we came home and I realized, I'm sure she figured out that this was a very big deal. I became so excited and happy for the kids and we all three rushed into the room by the light of the hallway and admired the big kids.  I hugged Kacie and thanked her for helping me get over the emotional mountain of the toddler bed. We took her picture with them, and I never felt so proud of my niece and of my kids. She acted like it was nothing--what she had done. But it wasn't nothing; it was definitely something.

And now they do it every night.

This morning at 4:00am was the first time they ever came out of their bed too soon. They had turned on the living room lights and started the day. Ethan was playing with his dump truck and, thankfully, Emma came into our room to say good morning.

*Gasp*-- "Night-night!" I whispered loudly. I turned the lights back off, gathered them up and herded them back to their bedroom. Ethan whined and protested. "Shhhh, shhhh," and I tucked them back in. "Night night," I said as I crossed my fingers, hoping they'd follow suit.

And they did. They laid in bed (as far as I know) quietly but for a few mumbling exchanges until about 7:00.

I guess this is it.... My babies are big kids.

Karli's Story: "My first sleepover with Emma and Ethan"

This post was written by Karli Ashing

My first sleepover with Emma and Ethan

The first time Emma and Ethan stayed the night we had a lot of fun. At first Emma didn't want to leave her mommy so we watched a movie. Ethan just went straight to the game room ready to play.

The next thing we did was eat Emma was the first one to the table she must have been hungry we had to go get ethan he was to busy playing. We ate spaghetti they both liked it alot.

We went to my room to play with my play basketball goal after we ate Ethan and Emma both loved that because every time we went to my room that was what we did plus bop it they liked that to.

When Ethan went to the extra bedroom he would always say play drums so I would go and get him the drum sticks and he would play drums. While he played drums Emma was taking a nap. After a while we found out Emma was sick!!! :(

That night we had all went to sleep. I woke up at about 1:00 a.m. and Emma was throwing up. :( I felt so bad for her it got all over her and Ethan. My mom had to take Emma and Ethan to take a tubby. Poor Emma and Ethan. :(

The next day emma woke up and played for a little bit then took a nap on Kacie my sister. While me and Ethan played drums!

About 30 min. later there mom and dad showed up and took them home.

The End.

The Mornings of Mommy

Every morning since Ethan has been able to say "Mommy," he has called it out over and over from his crib when he's ready to get out. Rodney teases me about how he has me wrapped around his finger and says I "shoot out of bed like a rocket ship" to meet him. My heart is so happy to hear him calling for me. I run into their room with a big smile on my face and they're standing there watching the doorway, wide-eyed and waiting. Emma smiles and raises her arms because she wants to start the day too. This may be the happiest part of my day. They need me. They want me. They know I will absolutely always come to get them without fail. And surely they can see and feel that I am more than happy to do so.

Now and then Rodney has questioned why Ethan always calls for me instead of him. There is a little envious tone in his voice, but I still say, "I can't help it if he's Mommy's baby." And I was happy to feel like he was.

"Come on!" Ethan says. Emma and I follow him to the kitchen. They take their seats on the bar stools and make their breakfast requests. Emma almost always wants a banana or yogurt with granola, and Ethan wants Cheerios or peanut butter waffles. Ethan says, "How 'bout...waffles!"
Meanwhile, Emma is on auto-repeat: "Anana? Anana? Anana?" I try to vary their breakfast from day to day. They also like eggs, oatmeal with fruit or honey, berries are always good, and they love the occasional biscuits or cinnamon rolls.

Rodney decided one morning that he would go into their bedroom instead of me...even though Ethan was saying Mommy. I ran right behind him though because I didn't want to disappoint. "You better call for your daddy from now on!" Rodney teased as he scooped Ethan out of the crib and then lifted Emma out too.

The next day, I let Rodney go in by himself because he wanted to and I thought...Yes, he should get to enjoy that first waking moment by himself. I heard shrieking laughter as I laid in my bed and I smiled. They love their daddy's playful way.

The morning after that, I was hearing the usual chatter back and forth on the monitor. I'm laying there soaking up the last few minutes of stillness and rest before that inevitable and sweet little voice calls out....

     "Da'y, Da'y, Da'y, Da'y"

What?

"He's saying Daddy!" Rodney said as he shot out of bed like a rocket ship.

Can this be true? Are the mornings of Mommy really over?? Oh, I'm sad. So sad. For three days in a row now it's been Daddy, Daddy, Daddy.

Sigh.

I have to admit it's nice to see that spring in Rodney's step and the sparkle in his eye when he hears that little calling voice. They need him. They want him. They know he'll absolutely come to get them without fail. And they can see that he's happy to do so.
I know how it feels...how sweet it is.

Sweeten the Pot

I thought I could potty train the kids real quick over Christmas Break. LOL!

I had done nothing in the potty training department before that. I must've known it was crazy to think I could tackle that in one month. That's probably why I hadn't even attempted it before then. Intimidated. It seemed like such hard work. And it was for those few days that I really pushed it. Too much work! I was taking them into the bathroom every 20-30 minutes: pants off, diaper off, on the potty...wait...wait...wait. Meanwhile the other one was going in their pants. Diaper back on, pants back on. Repeat for other child (even if it was too late).  We bought big boy underwear and big girl panties and wore them all day one day. They looked so cute and grown up! I've heard that you can just put those on them and suddenly the kids want to pee-pee in the potty. Our kids had no problem peeing in the big kid underwear and I didn't have the patience or the mental restraint to let them sit in them for long enough to get uncomfortable. How do people do that? Just let 'em dribble and soak through on the furniture and carpet until they've had enough? Yeah--no.

This is my vacation, I thought. I'm not going to ruin it with potty obsession, poop and pee all over our carpet, constant bathing, changing clothes and scrubbing floors. But I did introduce the concept. That's something.

So with my sanity and my vacation in mind, I just kind of gave up. Ethan was fighting it very hard, crying and saying, "Scared." So I am not going to force him on the potty and make it worse. You can lead a boy to the potty, but you can't make him go.

Emma did pee in the potty several times during our few days of hardcore training and she seemed excited about it. "O-KAY!!" she'd say as she sat there. The first time she ever peed in the potty, I screamed so suddenly that I scared her. She stopped the stream and smiled. I picked her up and hugged her, and she finished peeing in the floor. I didn't even care. I was so happy. And she was so proud of herself.

I bought peanut butter M&M's to sweeten the pot for Ethan, but he still says, "No pee-pee in the potty." After the bath is the best time for Emma, and while Emma is going, Ethan goes in the tub. He looks down and purposefully and defiantly goes in the tub. I ignore it, and I'm actually fine with it. At least he waits until Emma is out. And at least he is practicing a controlled pee-pee. I just pour on the celebration for Emma and give her a "potty candy" after she's done.

Potty candy really motivated Sugar Baby Emma even further. Now she asks, "Go pee-pee in the potty?" at least once a day. And I take her right away any time she says those words. She went three times today! I am so proud of my little big girl! Her favorite part (besides the candy) is playing with the toilet paper. She pulls the whole roll out or just rips tiny pieces off and drops them between her legs. "All done," she says. It won't be long and Skinny Bop will potty train herself.

She likes to follow me to the potty too, and the other day after I was finished, she pulled the toilet paper and tore it off for me. She poked the paper down into the toilet, puckered her lips and said, "Good job."

The Surprise Party Bandit

Rodney and I walked with the kids around the corner last night for my friend Katie's surprise birthday party. There were lots of other kids there. They were all so excited about the big surprise! They kept hiding and declaring false alarms, turning off the lights and saying, "She's coming!"

Emma and Ethan aren't usually out this time of night. The party started at about 7:00.

There was a new baby named Kate at the party, and I was so excited to hold her. I haven't held a little baby since my own were that small. Emma was very interested in Kate. I don't think my kids have ever been around a newborn baby before, and they definitely haven't seen me hold one. Emma started tugging at Kate's shirt, pulling at my arms. I think she thought baby Kate was a doll. She couldn't understand why I would not give her the baby doll. We let her look and even touch, but I still don't think she got that this was a real live baby.

When Katie finally did come home and we all yelled surprise, she didn't seem very surprised. Maybe she was. I'm not sure. But she just smiled and looked at everyone while all the kids surrounded her and blew their birthday horns right towards her face over and over. They had been waiting for so long to jump out from their hiding places and blow their horns. They gave it all they had, and then they gave it some more.

The horns must've triggered some sort of switch in Emma's brain. From that point on, she started acting very strangely. The food was being served. It was McDonald's for the kids and Buffalo Wild Wings for the adults. Emma and Ethan had eaten dinner before the party, but Emma was suddenly starving like mad, and I mean mad. She immediately climbed up to the table beside a little boy and started aggressively eating his chicken nuggets! I pulled her back and told her no, and she was still reaching for the kid's food. She bucked and screamed at the top of her lungs. So I fixed both of my kids a plate for their 2nd dinner. I can understand how watching other kids eat McDonald's could be pretty tough on a kid's psyche. So she and Ethan sat there eating their own nuggets and fries.

But then she got down and walked over to another table and took a nugget off of another child's plate. The victims of her burglary were very kind. They both just looked straight ahead and politely tried to ignore the offense.

"Emma, no! That's not yours. You have your own. Come back to your seat. I'm very sorry, Khloie, that Emma stole your nugget. She's only two." It was okay, she said. Why was Emma doing this? She wouldn't stay seated with her food. I turned my back for a second and another adult told me they saw her eat a fry out of the trash can. I covered my mouth. Well, there was nothing I could do about it now. I was getting embarrassed. At least it was discarded food and not another person's. These people probably think I don't feed her. She was acting like a starving child gone crazy, breaking free from her captors. She screamed every time I pulled her or carried her away from her devious mission.

The birthday cake with 31 lit candles was carried into the dining room and we all sang Happy Birthday. After the candles were blown out, the cake was taken back into the kitchen to be cut and served, but not before Emma could strike her fingers through the side of the cake in the blink of an eye. "Emma!" I gasped. I cannot believe this child! What has come over her? She followed the cake into the kitchen licking her fingers. Katie's son Brayd'n stood in the doorway eating his cheeseburger. I saw her eyeing the cheeseburger and getting ready to dive in for another uninvited bite. I felt paralyzed. Powerless. Everything was happening so fast, yet it felt like slow motion...like a bad dream where you can't move as fast as everyone else. She was on a rampage. Katie scooped her up before she could sink her teeth into the cheeseburger. She started cutting Emma a piece of cake. Thank God. I knew the cake would be enough to occupy her and satisfy her hungry eyes. I sat beside her at the table and tried to relax. I looked at my husband who was sitting across the table with Ethan. He just looked at me, and I could see that he was humiliated and he was probably annoyed with me for not assuming control, for not teaching her some manners. "She's only two," I said again. He rolled his eyes. I was just glad her rampage was over for the moment, but it wasn't. Just then she stuck her fork into the cake of the boy sitting beside her, Dakota.

This is not happening. This is just another one of my recent string of nightmares. I'm going to wake up any minute now and Emma will no longer be possessed by a maniacal, starving, thieving child. She will be the same sweet and friendly little girl from my waking life, and I will again have full control over my child and my life....

"Don't sit beside her," Dakota said with a smile. "She steals food."

Shopping Buzz

Taking them grocery shopping is one of my favorite things to do. It really makes me so happy. I love talking to them, telling them the name of everything and reciting my shopping list to them. I can talk and talk to them just like I'm talking to myself, only no one thinks I'm crazy. They get especially excited in the produce section. They proudly point and shout, "BANANAS! GRAPES!" I love it! The grocery store makes them happy too. They get to ride in the big cart that looks like a car with two steering wheels! That's the only one that will work for two kids, so I'm very glad they have it although it is a little difficult to steer. At least it fits between all the aisles, unlike in department stores (see Fairy Clothes Mothers). They even get to see their dad who works in the pharmacy there. If we go and he's not working at that particular time, Emma will call out for him all over the store: "Daddy....wa ahh you???"

They're a lot like me in the grocery store, very chatty and happy. We're out of the house! We're out of the house! They talk to each other, say hello to people as they pass. It's like a social event, ha ha! If we're lucky, we sometimes get a bite from the sample trays in the produce section, or better, the bakery. They also like to give hugs and kisses to each other in the grocery store. Now and then someone catches them, and they get a sweet smile or someone may stop to chat along with them.

 It's funny how people will talk to your kids in the grocery store and never even glance up at you. And the funny faces and voices they do crack me up. I use a silly voice right back as I respond to their questions for the kids, lol! Sometimes a person may even reach out and poke one of the kids in the side playfully, even add a sound effect, or scruff their hair. Isn't that funny? No one would ever do that to an adult stranger. But they think it's fine with kids. I should do a grocery store video documentary. It would be hilarious.

 One time when the kids were just learning to say thank you and other Baby Graces, Ethan was thanking me for every thing I put in the cart. I loved that so much. That's what he kept saying: "Thank you so much, Mommy!" It was right around Thanksgiving time as I recall, so it seemed even more appropriate. People were looking at him with the most appreciative gazes as they overheard him, and I was so proud of my little thankful boy. He was spreading his little heart's joy all over the store. What is it about that place? It just brings out the best in all three of us.

Ethan has a little celebration chant for the checkout line: "Choc'-late, choc'-late, choc'-late, choc'-late!" He grips the handle bar and bobs his head.

But I have learned that not all people share our shopping sentiments. For instance, it's best to shop when their daddy is busy working or at home. He's a grocery shopping buzz-kill. Ha ha! He nickels and dimes every item, making sure we get the best deal, vetoes most of my whims and...just takes the fun out of shopping, honestly. God knows I love him, and he has good intentions, watching the budget, yadda yadda yadda. Not much fun if you ask me. I'm not a big shopper in other areas of my life. I watch my spending; I make sacrifices, but this is food. There is no way this is wasteful spending if we actually eat what we buy. I take care to make healthy choices with a few goodies in between....

So, I rest my case.

Shop and Be Merry!

Santa Baby

Last year, Santa was called "Ho-ho-ho." There were Ho-ho-hos every where, on the mantle, on the refrigerator, on the Christmas tree, at Mimi's house, in lots of front yards, even at the grocery store...and then one day... they were all gone. Ethan was especially concerned with his disappearance. "Ho-ho-ho?" he kept asking well into January.

This year, the memories started coming back to him when he saw the Halloween decor popping up in our neighborhood, in the stores and everywhere. "Ho-ho-ho!" he said. Wow, he remembers! I can see the resemblance...kind of. The bright colors, the neighborhood hype, the blow-up inflatables, the sudden and temporary themes blasted all over town.

This year we decided the kids should meet the real Ho-ho-ho himself. As we drove to the mall with the kids in the car, I felt a looming sense of guilt. I felt like I was driving my kids to be traumatized. They really had no preparation for it. I knew they wouldn't like it. It seemed mean. How could they like this? He's a big, strange man with long white hair, a burly beard hiding his face, and he's wearing a bright red suit with strange fluff all over it. To make matters worse, he is sitting in a strange, white cage-like construction. And their parents will walk them into the cage, put them in his arms and walk away, oddly smiling at them and waving, wondering why this isn't awesome.... Plus, I already feel bad about the "story". It has started. We're telling our kids that this man knows them, loves them, watches them, and will be sneaking into our house when we are asleep. Sigh. Merry Christmas, kids. Mommy and Daddy love you so much.

If I was thinking right and really on the ball, I would have introduced Santa gradually before asking them making them sit on his lap. Seems like I did the whole Santa thing backwards. That's me, I guess. Figuring things out after they've already gone wrong. The hard way seems to be the only direction I know most of the time.

As we approached him in the mall, I tried to use my cheerful, excited voice to point him out: "Look! It's Santa Clause, kids! Say hi! Santa is so nice! Let's go see Santa Clause!" Lol. When we finally made it to the front of the line, I walked Emma and Rodney walked Ethan closer to Santa. "Hi, Santa! Say hi, Emma." At this point, she was pulling back and sticking her bottom lip out. She looked so scared. "It's okay, baby. He's nice! See?" She started whining louder and getting red in the face. "Come on, Baby. Say hi! Let's sit on Santa's lap, okay? It's okay." I lifted her up into his lap as I told Santa that he may have to really hold her at the waist. Let's just get this over with, I thought. I stayed beside her for a few more seconds and said again in my most cheerful voice, "Santa is so nice! Hi, Santa!"

She looked at Santa, and through her petrified cries, bravely managed the words, "Hi, baby." Sweetest words ever spoken to a stranger.

Rodney placed Ethan on his other knee and he whined a little, but surprisingly sat there for several beats before he started trying to get down (being unrestrained) but the photographer managed to get a picture.

I lovingly decided that maybe they should have a few more encounters with Santa that didn't involve getting forced into his lap. So we went to the mall again for Christmas shopping and the kids just looked at him...just stood and stared without returning the friendly waves. Emma started to cry. Poor baby thought her mom was going to have the red, fluffy man hold her down again and stand there five feet away smiling at her terror. "Emma, you don't have to sit on his lap this time. We're just saying hi, okay? He is so nice, huh?" And then we moved on. She seemed relieved. After we got home, she ran to their picture with Santa that was sitting on our end table in the living room and said, "Hi, Sis Clause! Mmmmaa!"

The last time we saw Santa this year was with our friends, Necole and Colton. They invited us to come to the bank down the road from our house because Santa would be there giving out two dollar bills and cookies! So we went, again without intentions of sitting on his lap. This time Emma didn't cry, and Ethan didn't seem as afraid. Colton was very excited to sit on his lap and told him what he wanted for Christmas. I think that may have helped too. I gave Santa a high five as I held Emma and kept reassuring her that he was so nice and that he loved her. She just leaned her head on my shoulder and held on to me tight. I was proud of her for her improved nearness to Santa. Necole had Ethan and asked him if he wanted to go to Santa. He declined and pulled back toward Necole. But he was willing to give him a high five! Brave boy!

Santa talked Necole and me into sitting on his lap while we held the babies and Colton could stand in the middle. That way, we could get a free picture and the two dollar bill! I said no at first, but he kept insisting and patting his knee. So we did, and I think it did them good to see that their mother could sit on his lap, too... even when she didn't really want to.

Hostage Situation

Emma got sick on her first slumber party with her cousins. She must've picked up a bug somewhere in the few days before when we were out running all over town. I was shocked when my sister told me she vomited. That hasn't happened since White Rain. I felt terrible that my sister had to deal with that on her first time with them overnight. And I heard later that her kids got sick after mine left. :( Both Emma and Ethan's Christmas pajamas had to be washed. She told me that she'd given Emma a much needed bath that night without Ethan and that he had cried and cried outside the door. That was their first bath without the other since they have been taking a bath in the big tub. Amy said she thought it was odd that Emma didn't cry or whine because she had "been sick" all over their air mattress and must've been feeling awful. How ironic that it was Ethan who needed comforting outside the bathroom door, being worried and left alone without his other half.

Emma was running a high fever when we picked her up. We treated her symptoms and let her sleep with her daddy in our room when she got home. I was dreading the inevitable infection of Ethan. It's impossible to keep them separate. Well, not impossible I guess, but it makes things so much more difficult. I think I would probably need help, a sitter to be with my well child. Plus, they cry if they are isolated from the other for any amount of time, especially at bed time and especially if they know the other is near, being withheld. If I were to take Ethan into our room, or vise versa, for bedtime or make effort to keep him away from her for her entire sickness, I honestly believe it would cause her more stress in time of weakness and I can't stand that. At the same time, I feel like I am not protecting Ethan from this sickness that he will surely get if I don't remove him.

So he sleeps beside her in the crib even though she has a fever. And yes, a few days later, he came down with the same bug. By that time, Emma was better. But she also slept by her brother's side in his time of sickness. In the morning when I went in to check on them because they hadn't woken by 8:00, they were both sleeping so soundly and peacefully. They had both moved to the other end of the crib because Ethan had thrown up on their usual end. It smelled terrible. Poor babies. And then I looked closer and saw that Emma had throw-up all in her hair and  on her shirt. Ethan too. They are like hostages to the other's sickness. I cannot imagine being puked on. I was never puked on by my sister or any one else. But I wasn't a co-sleeping twin. I didn't live my life side-by-side with my sibling.

They didn't seem to mind being covered in puke, but I stripped them down, stripped their bed and put them in the bath tub immediately.

Even aside from the co-sleeping, they would still undoubtedly infect each other every time. They share sippy cups no matter how hard you try to keep them separate. They kiss and hug. They want to be right next to each other a lot, so who am I to keep them apart, to tell them, "No, you can't sleep with your brother tonight. Lay in there and cry all night. Don't touch your brother; don't breathe on him," etc.?

When they get older, things will be easier to explain. They will surely understand more about germs and sickness, and how to stay well. But for now, judge me not, I think it's best that they just endure toddler storms together, comfort each other in a way that I can't, help each other fight the same viruses, build immunity together.

Together, in sickness and in health.

Kacie's Story: "Kacies 1st time babysitting Emma and Ethan"

This post is written by Kacie Ashing:

Kacies 1st time babysitting Emma and Ethan

When I first got to the Garland's house, I thought to myself this is going to be fun. Later Aunt LeeAnn told me to feed them because it was their dinner time. I fed them Ethan ate really good. Emma did not. When LeeAnn started to leave Emma saw her mom and dad go out the door and she started to cry. Then I picked her up and walked her around and I was telling her its going to be okay. Later she stopped crying and we went in the living room and Emma ran to me and I picked her up and she went in the air. Ethan wanted to do that to. I let him. They both did that for a long time. Then we finally quit. We were all wore out. LeeAnn told me that I could go get a drink out of the garage if I wanted to. I decided I needed a drink. I put the babies in the kitchen right by the garage. I started to go in the garage and Emma had got up on the bar stool without me knowing. Then she flipped off. But surprisingly, it was before I was out the door to the garage. Emma was not screaming crying. She was just whining. So I picked her up and walked her around and was saying it's going to be okay again. She stopped whining. She had a red spot on the side of her leg. She did not hit her head. I was thankful for that. Then later I took them into their bedroom Ethan was whacking his drums. Emma was playing with her doll. We played in there for a while. Then later we went back to the living room. Emma was watching tv. I was letting Ethan click the button on my phone to turn the screen on. Justin Bieber was on there. I told Ethan that is Justin Bieber. Then he repeated it. It was so cute! Then both Emma and Ethan began to watch tv. I just sat in the chair and watched too! Later Emma came and got into my lap and was acting tired. Then Ethan came and got into my lap too! Then I thought they both must be getting sleepy. So I took them back into their bedroom we were all playing in their toddler bed. Emma was laying down and I decided to lay on Emmas tummy. Then I jumped up and said Peek a boo! both Emma and Ethan started to laugh. I did that over and over. Ethan would tell me to lay back down and do it again. It was funny! Later I took them back into the living room to wait till their mom and dad got home. But first I changed their diapers, brushed their teeth and put them into their pajamas. Later their mom and dad walked in. Emma jumped up and screamed. Then later Aunt LeeAnn took them to bed. Both babies gave me a hug before they went. Then me and LeeAnn and Rodney talked about what happened during the babysitting and they talked about the scary movie. Then later my mom walked in to pick me up. Then I went home and told my mom what happend on my first time babysitting.

Wax On, Wax Off!

I have dark hair, so I kind of have a little bit of dark-ish peach fuzz on my upper lip that I call my mustache. Embarrassing, right? Ew. It's not that noticeable, but I notice it and I hate it. I use those wax strips from Walmart or wherever, you know, the plastic ones that you heat with friction and then separate the two-ply plastic, apply...and then RIP them off! There's no better way to do it. It lasts for a long time, and it doesn't grow back prickly. Ahhh, I feel somewhat liberated from having shared this so publicly.  Well, semi-publicly. Not that many people read this little blog, so those of you who do are sort of like my anonymous, faceless family. :)  So there you have it. I wax my upper lip from time to time, lol.

So, one morning, I was just going about my business, getting ready to rid myself of the peach mustache and Emma and Ethan happened to be in the bathroom with me. They like hanging out in there when I'm getting ready, especially when I'm listening to music. I started rubbing the strip between my hands, heating it up, and that got their attention. They watched carefully as I quickly moved my hands back and forth to the beat of the song on my iPod. Then I pulled it apart and told them it was like a sticker, one of their favorite things.

"Sticker!" they said. They started reaching for the other half of it, wanting to use it themselves, I assume. "No, babies. Trust me, you want no part of this sticker," I said. I began pressing it on one side of my upper lip and rubbing it on really well. Then, I closed my eyes and braced myself--"UHHHNNN!!!" I growled as I RIPPED it off as quickly as I could in the opposite direction of the hair growth.

Both of my children had horrified expressions on their faces. "UHHHHH!!" Emma mocked.
"Hurts really bad!" Ethan noted. I laughed out loud at their reactions. They were just standing there side-by-side, staring at me in the mirror with their hands up by their faces, gripping the bathroom counter. I guess I have done this so many times that I didn't think of just how dramatic it could be for two little first-time observers. Emma looked really sad for me. So did Ethan. "Hurts really bad!" he repeated with the cutest little scrunched eyebrows.

"Yes, it does hurt really bad. But I'm okay," I smiled even though my eyes were watering from the sting.

Round two.

I repeated the process for the other side and I still had their full attention. I guess they were going to have to learn of the harsh realities that women put themselves through in the name of beauty some time. It might as well be now and it might as well be from me...right?

"MMMM!" I tried to control my outward response this time, but it is so ingrained in me...and it really does hurt really bad. This had become too much for Emma. She poked out her bottom lip and started to cry. What a sweet angel she is. "It's okay, baby! Mommy's okay. I should not hurt myself on purpose, huh?" It seemed really ridiculous as I imagined what she had just witnessed and what she could be thinking of it. Am I impressing on this little tiny girl too soon some sort of odd and morbid self-hatred that she'll never forget? Lol, I hope not.

I read an article the other day about a woman who had decided to start telling her daughter that she was beautiful. She started saying, "Sweetie, I'm feeling very beautiful today," and so on. She wanted to stop the hateful comments against herself and the perpetual dissatisfaction with herself from infecting her daughter when she reaches adulthood. I think it's a really good idea. People tell me all the time that Emma looks like me and I think she is the most beautiful girl in the world.

Testing, testing, 1, 2, 3. I'm feeling very beautiful today. Go, me!