Nicknames

Stella has had quite a few nicknames in her young life.

It all started with Juan Carlos, then she was born and Juan didn't stick. Probably because she's a she.

Then it was Stella Bird. When she cried or complained she sounded just like the bird "Kevin" from the kids movie "Up." The sound was similar to that of a peacock. We don't hear that anymore, unless we are at the zoo.

Then her nickname was Turtle, because she wouldn't roll off of her back. So if we laid (??) Her on the floor on her back, we could rest assured she would be in that same spot when we returned, however many hours later. Then, at one-year-old, she finally figured out the rolling over thing, so it didn't feel right calling her Turtle.

While she had the Turtle nickname, we'd also been calling her Grizzly Bear here and there as her personality was really starting to shine through.  This is the nickname that I think is going to stick. She even stands her ground like a Grizzly Bear.  She'll be crawling towards Joe when she gets up on her knees, scrunches up her face and screams at him, coming down on her hands for a second when she loses her balance, but getting right back up on her knees.  A picture below to help you visualize.  Joe was trying to get a picture of it today, but she kept coming closer and closer attacking him and swatting at his phone.



The bathtub picture I posted because it was bath time tonight when I was thinking of all of the different nicknames she has gone through.  Griz loves bath time and hates when I don't put her in the tub the second she discovers what time it is. So she was standing up next to the tub and then looking at me and started the usual screaming, and that screaming left me wondering what ever happened to the good ole bird calls. 

Neglect

I apologize for the neglect, but I had to focus on survival for a little while there. I've been unmedicated since Labor Day weekend and it just caught up with me.  I guess that explains the crying over my young chicken. Today I dropped Sami off at her Great Aunt Kathy's because Kathy was taking Sami and some of her cousins to the movie Dolphin Tale. Anyway, Joe helped me load up our old car seats this morning plus I went out and collected one that I gave to someone a while back (but they never ended up using it) because my Village Family Magazine says that it's Kohl's Car Seat Safety day today.  Bring in old car seats and get a $10 gift card for each one. I Googled it and got the times.  Joe wasn't able to come with because he was helping somebody move something. So I drop off Sami and then Griz and I head to Kohl's. I see nothing in the parking lot but think they must be doing it inside?? I'm pregnant, okay. What's your excuse? I load Griz up in the stroller and contemplate bringing in one of the car seats (because it would take two trips anyway), but then think for a minute and decide that I better wait to make sure they are doing it inside and I didn't get the times wrong.  I get inside and no indication of Car Seat Safety, so I ask one of the workers if she knows anything about it.  Her response was an unapologetic "there's construction in the parking lot so we had to cancel it."  Deeeeeppp Breaths. I struggled to prevent a meltdown and made it outside of the store with the stroller and no handicap accessible (auto) doors (another mama drama that I won't go into) and managed to calm myself down and get Griz loaded back into the car without crying. This is just an example of what I've been struggling with.

My emotions are ridiculous, to say the least, and I haven't been good about asking for help in the past couple of weeks to make sure that I get some 'me' time away from the kids because although I encourage people to do it, I don't do it myself unless I am at my breaking point. Mission accomplished.

I suppose that I'll have to extend my 30-day deadline. Or maybe I should just start all over. No, let's not get too crazy. I'll just add a few days to the deadline.

It's going to be a looonng four months. And fast at the same time. I've got a real post on the way tonight.  And, the plus side of my mama drama is that it will probably make for some giggles if/when I post about it!

Secret Stash

We've been missing both window cranks to our living room window for about a month now. We knew exactly who the culprit was, we just couldn't find where the stinker hid them. We searched toy boxes, under furniture, behind the TV. The ony conclusion we could come to was that she ate them. But today was our lucky day! Grizzly was crawling around with one of her big sister's little toys. I watched her crawl right on over to the sub-woofer (located conveniently close to the window) and stuck the little toy in there and then it disappeared. After what seemed like a game of "Operation" (losses=19, wins=2 window cranks), I successfully retrieved the two missing window cranks. Unfortunately, there are still quite a few toys that had to be left behind.

Tears in my Chicken

It went as well as it could making the BBQ Bacon Meatloaf last night.  I was so proud because by the time that Papa Bear got home from work shortly after 5pm, dinner was in the oven. I felt so domesticated and mother-like. Only one lifeline was used during the process: Phone-A-Father (mine, that is). WTF does mince mean? I had my guess and my dad agreed that mince could also be described as chop the shit out of.  Thank goodness my garlic lesson came a year or so ago when I was trying to be domesticated.  (The Garlic Lesson:  A garlic clove is NOT the whole garlic, it's just a little nugget off of the garlic.)  Anyway, after I minced my garlic it was time to add/combine all of the ingredients together. Woohoo! I'm making progress!  Time to add the ground (gag) chicken, which comes in a little tube. Challenge: open the tube of chicken. I used a kitchen scissor and was able to cut a little slit, but it wasn't cutting easy, so I thought that little slit would do. You know how they use those little baggie like things at the bakery to fancy decorate a cake? That's pretty much what the chicken looked like coming out of the tube.

I happen to notice that the directions/ingredients say 'ground chicken breast', so I check to see if that's what I'm using, knowing that it's too late if not. I'm using "Lean Ground Chicken." Close enough. Wait...does that say?! "YOUNG CHICKEN" I'm getting a little bit verklempt (no, I'm not Jewish, just like to throw out some yiddish once in a while). Why would they even put that on the label? Why don't they just put "whiny preschooler" or "sassy tween"?! I shed some tears, seriously, but I got through it. Or so I thought. Add the remaining ingredients: Worcestershire (?) sauce, 2 large egg whites - shit, did it say whites or yolks? Oh whatever. Add the egg whites to the mixture with the young chicken. OH MY GOD!?  Could they be related?!?  Another moment of silence, but at least this time I could be reuniting Young Chicken with its Never-Given-A-Chance younger sibling.

Supper wasn't totally healthy, but we are taking baby steps. We had Pillsbury flaky dinner rolls with it. Which turned out to be the best part of dinner, not counting dessert.  I picked the BBQ Bacon Meatloaf recipe for our first night of healthy meals because I knew we would like it. We had it about 1 1/2 years ago when I was pregnant with Grizzly and told I was just on the borderline for gestational diabetes. That's when Papa Bear was the cook. Those were the days!  Anyway, this didn't look or taste like what Papa Bear made. I followed the directions. At first I thought that maybe it didn't taste right to me because of the KitKat's that I snacked on while making my healthy dinner.  Princess Bear wasn't a fan, but she's not a fan of anything we put on her plate.  Then I got a glimpse of Papa Bear trying to swallow it without gagging to spare my feelings. Major fail.  Turns out that when he made it, he used ground TURKEY.  Probably not child turkey, either.  Grizzly Bear, however, was c h o w i n g  a w a y.  She loved it. She was screaming at me because I wasn't dishing it onto her plate fast enough.  (The picture of Grizzly below is of her shoveling the young chicken into her mouth, however, it could also be used to describe the rest of the family's reaction after tasting it.)

Our reward for making it through the healthy dinner without vomiting on the kitchen table was a big ass bowl of ice cream. I was saving my bigass bowl for later on, but wanted to reward Griz with a treat for being such an amazing eater. I dipped into Papa Bear's bowl and was scowled at and warned something like: "Don't be giving Grizzly the last few bites of my ice cream unless you plan on having more ready for her when this is gone in two seconds or unless you are prepared for a Grizzly Attack."  Not heeding to Papa Bear's warning, I continued to steal some of his ice cream to give to the Grizzly.  Sure, she happily ate it. But while she was eating the ice cream, she was still picking young chicken pieces off of her tray and eating them AT THE SAME TIME.  AND, there was no Grizzly Attack when the ice cream stopped coming.

I won't even get into what happened with my emotions when I put the young chicken down the garbage disposal.

Chaos in the Kitchen

I am not a booksmart kinda gal. That doesn't mean that I don't read a book every now and then. I'm reading a 'Love & Logic' parenting book right now (and it actually makes sense). But that's beside the point and for future posts.

I do, however, have a little bit of common sense and a pretty darn good sense of direction. But neither of those apply when it comes to me and the kitchen. I hardly know where my kitchen is. To me, making a meal for my family involves opening a box and following the directions that are provided on the side or back of it.

At five months pregnant with No. 3 (Baby Bear) and with my glucose test coming up in a couple of weeks, celiac disease test results pending, and just a glance at the food we've been consuming I realize that a food makeover is necessary. To many people, this is as simple as making a list, going to the store and making healthier meals that you can think up on your own using your own kitchen creativity.  Let me tell you that NOTHING COULD BE MORE COMPLICATED AND CHALLENGING FOR THIS GIRL! Most people just don't get how one woman could be so insanely stupid when it comes to making food and honestly, I'm not quite sure myself.

So I feel like crap. I'm tired all of the time. I'm overweight and just not healthy. I don't want my kids to grow up with the same bad food habits that I have. I still have the point of view that healthy is not fun, but I won't let my little bears hear me speak like that. I need to make a change for my whole family so that my kids can maybe have a passion for cooking and eating foods that make them well, unlike their mother who has a passion for white bread and Macaroni & Cheese.

PLAN OF ATTACKThe first plan of attack was to remove gluten from the family diet, even before I get the test results to find out if it's even necessary.  After a couple of days thinking about it and trying to plan gluten free eating I decided that was pretty far-fetched.

The second plan was to try clean eating.  Also pretty far-fetched. I need to think more along the lines of baby steps.

The third and current plan is to start with the Biggest Loser Family Cookbook which includes recipes for breakfasts, lunches, snacks, dinners, sides (excellent inclusion for dipshits like myself) and DESSERTS!  As most cookbooks tend to include, this one includes instructions and even some PICTURES!!

So my journey to a healthy mealtime began tonight with BBQ Bacon Meatloaf (chicken). I will post that drama in the morning.

Almost Forgot!

I'm updating from my phone because as I was getting ready for bed I realized i haven't updated yet today. I've been in survival mode today because I have been so tired and emotional and moody from getting four hours of sleep. For some of you, that may be the norm, but as I've said before - I need my sleep. The picture is a couple weeks old, from our Labor Day weekend trip to Sioux Falls. I used this picture for today's post because it illustrates why I didnt get to sleep until 3am.

I know what you are probably thinking, and I've been thinking it too, especially the past 22 hours: come January, I'll be drowning in Sleepless Creek. God help me!
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The Fluge Bears

 I haven't really updated on the whole family in a while, so here I go: 

Mama Bear:  As you probably know, I quit my job back in mid-July.  I wasn't very happy where I was and being pregnant and hormonal on top of that was just not working out for me. With soon-to-be three kids, I would most likely be a stay-at-home-mom come January anyway, so why not start adjusting to it with two kids.  I thought I would have to babysit/do daycare for a couple of extra kids to make ends meet, but Papa Bear has been good to me and figured things out so that I don't have to do that.  I am in the second trimester, approximately 22 weeks right now, and feeling great. However, I am starting to waddle.  No. 3 is forcing my hips out a bit (as I'm sure is normal with most pregnancies) and the feeling that I don't really know how to describe (like I need to stretch them out-constantly) makes me a waddler. Quack. Quack. 

I had a test for celiac disease and will find out the results at my next OB appointment which is the first week of October. Even if the test comes back negative, I am thinking about trying to go gluten free to see how that effects my overall self.  I am a major carb/crap food junkie, though, so what I say and what I actually do could end up being two totally different things.

Grizzly Bear:  The Griz is still not walking, but she pulls herself up and walks along furniture and has recently started standing on her own for a few seconds and, of course, cheering for herself. Sometimes before she is even standing, which makes her fall down. She is a pretty good eater (knock on wood), and doesn't turn much down.  She is definitely the joker of the family, already. Almost always making us laugh. Griz is generally a happy little 14-month-old, but if she wants something and doesn't get it right away, she lets us hear about it.


Diva Bear:  Diva Bear is a busy 4 3/4 year old.  Diva is now in preschool four afternoons a week for 2 1/2 hours per day and she loves it (so does her mama). It's only been one week so far, so not too much to report with preschool. She is in gymnastics instead of dance this year, mostly because it burns more energy than dance. Diva loves gymnastics and keeps asking me when they get to practice cartwheels. So far they have worked on somersaults and handstands, plus a little bit of the fun stuff like the trampoline and foam pit. Another bonus of her gymnastics and preschool is that she gets to share the two experiences with her best friend/cousin Nora. Next on Diva's weekly agenda is Sunday school, except she goes on Wednesday's this year. She has a busy schedule, but it works out good because it doesn't give her very much time to miss her old daycare.


Papa Bear: Papa Bear is busy working to make up for the income lost since I quit my job. As I mentioned in a previous post, he works his regular job then trains hunting dogs and will be snowblowing again this winter for extra income. He got a couple of good motorcycle rides in this summer, but is still (in my opinion, at least) working on adjusting to not riding as much now that he has a family...that keeps growing. At least this riding season he has a reliable motorcycle that hasn't broke down once. NOT ONCE. Did I mention it hasn't broken down at all? We haven't been able to say that about the Indian since the day he got it - brand new. It's nice to see him getting riding time in without having to deal with breakdowns.


That concludes today's update on Da Bears.

No. 3

Baby No. 3 is still baking in my belly. It's a pretty active baby, I feel quite a bit of movement throughout the day.  However, I don't really recall how often I felt movement with the other two at this point. We did NOT find out the gender of this baby, and I am glad we didn't.  But if Joe wouldn't have showed up for the ultrasound, I wouldn't have been able to control myself and would have found out. And also would have had a very angry husband. Not really anything exciting to report about No. 3. My belly is getting bigger, I can't suck it in anymore and people are starting to notice. I was just thinking about my pregnancy with Stella. When I was about six months along some stranger said to me something like "you're huge! you must be ready to pop any day!" I said that I had a few months to go and the lady (yeah, you'd think a comment like that would come from a man) could not believe it. She said "are you having twins?!" and my response was: "yes, i'm having twins."  I was so uncomfortable I didn't know what else to say and she wasn't going to see me again, so that's what I said.  I'm sure I'm going to be having twins again this time if someone asks, too, even though I know there is only one baby in there.

We haven't really talked about names yet, but once we decide on names we will be sure NOT to share them with you. That's right. Withholding more information.  But the not sharing the name thing isn't because we want you to be surprised, it's more because we don't want you to be surprised when we decide on a different name at the last minute or after we've already named the baby (like we did with Stella, who has a name card from her hospital crib that says Greta and a name card that says Stella).

If there's any other information we find that we can keep from you about this baby, like if there really is a baby in there, we'll be sure to tell you that we aren't going to tell you!

DO NOT FEED THE BEARS

I have been blessed with good sleepers. Well, at least when they are crib bound they are good sleepers.  But, since Sami has been in a big kid bed, she has trouble staying in there by herself.  She has trouble every night. Every night. As babies, the only times that they really have bad nights seems to be when they have teeth coming through.  The way that this last week has been going, I think that the REST of Stella's teeth are coming through at the same time.  Every night this past week, she has woken up at least once, usually more than once. And Sami, who usually sleeps through it for at least a little bit, has been waking up at the exact same time. 

Unless you are my mother or my husband, you may not know that I need my sleep at night like a bear needs hibernation.  And if I don't get sleep at night, I usually can't pull myself together.  Being pregnant and not getting sleep makes me an emotional, mama grizzly bear at the very least.

This little grizzly bear has been going "waaa waaaa" every night this week.  But last night, this little grizzly bear went "waahhhh waaaaaaaaahhhhhh  wwwaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh" from about 12:30-3am, and this little grizzly bear's mama went "wwwhhhhhhyyyyyyy?!  wwwwhhhhyyyyyyyyy?!  wwwwhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyy?!?!?!"  all night long.

It has been tough being a SAHM. Having my kids attached at the hip 24/7, whining, crying, asking me 50 questions per second when they know the answer and are clearly just trying to get me committed to an institution (I've been considering committing myself).  I have been missing the adult interaction and kid free time that came from working outside of the home.  Any SAHM can relate, I am sure of that. Maybe even if not a SAHM.  I feel like a single parent, and I feel FOR single parents. We get to see Joe a little bit in the evenings and sometimes on the weekends. He's started training dogs for hunting with a friend of his that owns Sheyenne River Kennels. He's really good at it and he came up with the idea so that his darling, pregnant wife wouldn't have to take in any extra kids (thank goodness!!).  It's work that needs to be done pretty much every day, but the times of days are flexible. So between his regular job, training dogs, going to the gym, guard drills and motorcycle rides (big ride this weekend for him, memorial ride for his friend that was missing for 4-5 days, so he'll be gone from Friday afternoon until Sunday sometime), we don't see him as much as we'd like to (but we are very thankful for what he does to keep us in the lifestyle to which we are accustomed-in the words of my father).  Sure, he doesn't need to work out every day. But really, he does. And not because I insist he keep working to maintain his man-ish figure, but because Joe not making it to the gym is like me being up all night. Do not feed the bears. And motorcycle trips are coming to an end soon, so that will be nice. But then it's snow blowing season, which is another part-time job (he does our driveway, of course, but also two others on our block for extra income).

I digress.

The point that I am going for here is that while I really, really, REALLY miss having break times from my kids, it is nice on days like this, when I have been up all night, to not have to try put myself and my kids together by 7:15a.m. and sit in front of a computer all day trying to stay awake without mass quantities of caffeine (which would most definitely be consumed orally AND intravenously from 7:30 a.m. - 5p.m. if I wasn't pregnant). To not have to cover up a desk snooze by making it look like I am thinking really hard with my head down in my hands is great.  Yes, I am exhausted and no, I haven't taken a nap this morning like I would have loved to.  But it is 10:20a.m. and I still need to brush my teeth and get dressed for the day, things that are usually done for me and the girls by about an hour or two ago. I was able to skip the first Kids and Moms meeting at church that I was planning on going to this morning, without worrying about pay deduction because I don't have any 'sick' or 'vacation' time left. This is the first morning all week that we have been home all morning and I am not a fan of it, but I AM a fan of the sort of freedom that I have to decide that we are staying home all morning. And while I really, really, REALLY miss having break times from my kids (and sometimes cry because I feel like they are out to get me, trying their best at making me crazy), I really do enjoy being a full-time mommy. When I am not crying, or threatening to put my kids for sale on craigslist or ebay, I am really, really, REALLY proud of the family that I have.

Also, I have decided that baby #3 can stay in utero for a couple of years until I am good and ready for it to come out.

Sunglasses shopping

Yesterday I took Sami and Stella with me to get some new sunglasses, since I lost my favorite pair this summer in the lake. Sami was having a blast trying on different grown-up sunglasses and doing a little fashion show for me. She was putting one pair of glasses away, and I thought that it came from a different rack, so I asked Sami if she was sure that she was putting them back in the right place. She said she was, that was where she took them from. So I looked at the tag on the glasses and sure enough she was right. I said "I'm sorry for doubting you, Sami."  A few minutes later (minutes, not seconds), Sami says: "It's okay that you doubted me, Mama."