Eat Your Peas, With Olive Oil, Please.

I'm the paranoid mom that worries about everything... are my kids meeting milestones? Am I securing them in their car seats properly; did that guy at the fire station inspecting the car seat fit really know what he was doing? What if they get the flu? Did the hand sanitizer work well enough after Annika touched the dirty toys at the doctor's office? What if she touches her mouth and gets alcohol poisoning from the sanitizer?

I have plans as to what room in our house would be the safest should spontaneous gunfire break out in our neighborhood; the downstairs bathroom has no external walls. It's the same room we would seek shelter in the event of a tornado. If an earthquake hits, we'll pile into Annika's room, on her bed. Somehow, that seems like the safest spot...

You get the picture. I worry about my girls, a lot. Before having kids, I can't remember having an emotion stronger than the desire I now have to protect, love, and nurture my babies. My heart grew when they were born. Their adorable giggles make me giddy.

Most of the time, my paranoia is unfounded; I always hope it is. I've been concerned that Lydia's weight is low. This week at her well baby check, we discovered that in this case, my worry was founded. I should have listened to my mommy instinct and pushed the issue earlier. Lydia, who has always been a little string bean, has dropped in percentile for weight. I'm beyond concerned.

Annika ate and ate, & nursed and nursed. She gained weight and grew like a  little weed, a chunky one. I felt like I had the nutrition thing down. I feed Lydia the same foods that her sister thrived on. Lydia isn't much of a daytime nurser, but makes up for it at night. Evidently, I have nothing figured out... my sweet baby is struggling to grow.

Our goal is now to feed our little one the fattiest, most calorie rich foods she'll eat. The difficulty? From sun up to sun down, she will happily munch on fruits, veggies, melon, and berries, but doesn't seem to have developed a taste for rich foods. Thankfully, she has recently let go of the idea that a bottle is an insult to her maturity, and is guzzling organic whole milk. Despite my preference to avoid dairy, I'm elated to see Lydia's sweet, soft little cheeks filling out.


Wanting my children to have every advantage in life, I wish with all my might for the girls to grow and thrive. Although assured by the dietitian that Lydia will be just fine, I am of course still worried, and can't wait until the pounds start pouring on.

My dear sweet Baby L, you melt my heart. I love you more that words can express. Please, listen to mommy, and eat your food, and a little less sand.

The Messy Side of Motherhood

Looking at my sweet little Lydia, it's hard to imagine her being anything less than perfect. Could I ever picture her doing something to completely gross me out? Not a chance... until last Wednesday, that is. We had a day that tested my gag reflex.

If you're squeamish, I'll understand if you slam your laptop closed, and stop reading this post; the next one will be cleaner, I promise.

Lydia is a constipated kid. We give her Miralax to help keep things moving. She missed a few days, but the dose following did a marvelous job. While in the bath, I noticed a serious face. Setting her wet little body on the toilet, I was so proud to have saved myself from a huge mess, a craptastrophe, as I call it.

With business complete, she was once again splashing in her clean bath. Seconds later, my victory smile faded. She pooped, a lot. Wrapping her in a towel, I set her on the floor and cleaned the tub and bath toys. Placing her in freshly clean, warm water, I began scrubbing her down. All was well, until... you got it, more poop.

Wrapping her in a towel again, I cleaned out the bath. With fresh water filling, I reached down to scoop her into the tub, only to find that our soft and cozy memory foam rug had been destroyed. Sigh. I texted Josh (picture included, although I will spare you the visual) letting him know that I had no intention of scrubbing the rug clean, we would be purchasing a new one. Finally, my baby was sweet and clean at last. Josh arrived home that afternoon with a new rug. The bathroom was back to normal...

Returning to work that evening for the beginning of the school year open house, Josh was out the door. As usual, Lydia smeared as much avocado in her hair, on her face, tummy, and arms as she ate. She's a bath after every meal kind of eater. Off to the tub she went.

With Lydia happily splashing in the water, Annika began her bedtime routine. As I turned from helping Annika open her Tom's Silly Strawberry Toothpaste, I saw what made the earlier events of the day seem like nothing. Lydia had once again "loaded" the tub, and as I yelled, "Not to eat!" scooped a handful of poo into her mouth. My first instinct? Rush her to the ER! I collected myself (sort of) and called both my mother-in-law and my mom. Both agreed that while disgusting, her little "snack" was most likely harmless.

With the bathtub clean again, I picked Lydia up to set her in fresh water, and noticed that she had peed on the new rug. Oh well, at this point, a little baby pee doesn't bother me a bit.

Here she is, looking as cute and innocent as can be, just after the incident. "Who, me?"

So what's your grossest parenting moment? And sorry Mom, no need to post yours; I heard it the other night ;)

Pesticide Face - A public service announcement

We do our best to eat fairly healthfully, buying organic whenever possible. Earlier in the summer, my husband Josh returned from a grocery shopping trip. I asked, "did you buy the organic apples?" It seems that this made quite an impact on Annika, 4 years old. Here's the proof, in her artwork. She calls this series "Pesticide Face."

"Guess he should have had the ORGANIC apple."

"Notice that his face is all messed up, you see?"

"You see, the pesticide messed up this guys FEET too!"

"He has a CRAZY pesticide face, and eye, and hair, and nose, but his nails are nice."

"This guy is messed up, but I gave him nice wings and earrings."

In conclusion to this warning regarding the negative impact of pesticides on our health, I think it is important to mention that if you have already been affected by harsh chemicals, it's not too late; you can still make your nails pretty. And, wings help too.

If you are interested in drawing your own pesticide face palls, you can order your Melissa & Doug "Create A Person Pad."

Salty Style at it's Saltiest.

When I was a kid, I swam at the beach. Rain, shine, hail or sleet, I was in the water. Despite having a swimming suit in the jeep, my clothes were soaked. Looks like Annika is picking up where I left off... It started with her toes in the water as she filled a beach bucked to dump in the hole she dug with her buddies. In no time at all, she was up to her waist, and then her hair was wet too.

I love my little beach girl, and am thankful for summertime southerly winds, bringing in warm (well, warm-ish) currents.

What We've Been Up To Lately...

While Josh wraps up track season (he's a high school track coach) and I scramble to print & sew for the Astoria Sunday Market and Zulily, we're all eagerly anticipating some quality family time. For now, we enjoy the snippets we have. Annika tells me that she needs much more mommy time, but popsicles help her feel better. So, on swimming lesson days, while Lydia naps, she eats one.

My fancy chocolate eating ballerina. (Posting pictures taken in our messy basement makes me cringe.)

We've been squeezing in time for walks in the recent beautiful weather. (Lydia yelled until she had a bottle of water too. She was happy as a clam spilling it on her shirt.)

O.K. I may be crazy, but does this look like an Oregon shaped whale? This is water splashed on the floor from Lydia's bath. It could be my state of sleepy, but I was pretty astounded.

Here is my visual to do list... T-shirts, dresses, and onesies galore!

Have a great weekend everyone. Wherever you are, I hope your days are as sunny as ours have been in Astoria recently. And yes, I'm feeling quite lucky to be able to say that.

Deanna

Sunshine, Moms, and Dragon Dancers

On this beautiful Mothers Day, we celebrated by kicking off the 2012 season of the Astoria Sunday Market. I awoke early to a very snugly Lydia smiling and cooing. Annika was up shortly after, ready to hit the market; the Dragon Dancers were to be there. For at least 6 months, it has been her dream to see them perform.

Just as the market opened, drums beat, and the dragon danced and swiveled it's way through the streets with drums booming. It was epic, as expected. Lydia danced to the beat and Annika was so happy when the dragon dropped it's huge head right at her eye level and stared her down as it passed, she nearly cried.

After bringing me a special decaf chai tea, Josh and the girls headed home. Sales were great, our best day ever! I guess this means I can go wild buying more fabric! Just kidding... sort of. Sitting in the tent in shorts and sandals, I was just a little too warm, which is an amazing event here in Astoria. It was perfect.

The booth has a new look this year, which I'm thrilled about. Things are beginning to come together.

 

Worn out from the fun, Lydia sleeping in her infant seat.

With each Mother's Day, I feel even more blessed to have such perfect, sweet, loveable little girls in my life. This day makes me reflect on how thankful I am for my babies. They are all the gift I need; Annika's sweet "Happy Mothers Day" in her first thing in the morning voice, and Lydia's wide excited eyes to see me. How lucky I am to have my family.

To all you mothers, mine included, I hope your day was filled with love and warmth.

Deanna

P.S.
Happy Mother's Day Mom, I love you.

Block Prints and a Fever

Hi everyone. My blog posts are quite sporadic as of late; I've been pouring every spare second into preparing for the Astoria Sunday Market which starts next Sunday, and printing & sewing for Salty Style's Zulily event the beginning of July. Twenty dresses are complete and ready for market and I'm hoping to finish up pants, dishtowels, and several dozen onesies this week. Today, I printed 200 shirts for the Zulily sale.

This one is a tunic for market, but is what the new dresses (Beach Bloom) will look like.

The back of our Expedition, filled with 180 yards of dress fabric!

Our kitchen looks pretty ridiculous with drying lines strung along the window wall, paint splatters covering the front of the stove (oops) and shirts piled everywhere. We had one of the most beautiful days here in Astoria; warm and calm, bright and sunny. I drug myself out of bed early, even with Josh offering to take the girls downstairs and let me sleep, so that I could print and we could enjoy the beach.

That plan crashed miserably when Annika threw up at breakfast, poor thing. She spiked a fever of 102.3 and said, "I'm too tired to play. I think I better snuggle with a blanket." Broke my heart, poor baby.

Alternating between printing feverishly, and snuggling a feverish little girl, I managed to print half of the recent T-shirt order. I think I'm going to make the 1,500 articles of clothing goal by July!

 Oh, and I carved a new block today; a baby whale for onesies.

Lydia had a giggly day playing with her Daddy, and is much happier now that two of her teeth finally cut through. She now has 6!

I hope you enjoyed the sunshine from the outside of your windows; we stayed in all day. The bright sun did help my paint dry extra fast shining through the kitchen window, so that worked out well.

Wishing you a wonderful week!

Deanna

P.S.
Here's a picture that Josh snapped the last time we were at the beach. I'm calculating profit margins in the sand; shameful.

I Never Said That, Really!

You know when a kid says something, and you think, "We know just where that came from!" Well, that has been happening around here lately, except that the things my 3 year old is saying? I never said them. I promise.

We have a neighbor that sits on her porch in the evening and yells at her little dog. I have mentioned that I've grown tired of the 'yelling lady.' This evening at dinner, Annika commented that she thought she heard the yelling lady, and said, "She sure does yell a lot, and it ALWAYS ruins our family time." (For the record, I've never said that anything has ever ruined our family time.)

For Christmas, Josh's parents gave the girls fairy footie jammies. Noticing that none of the fairies were Tinkerbell, Annika said, "Those fairies are Tinkerbell's nasty friends." Asking why she would say that, her response was, "Because that's what you told me." (No. What? No I've never said that!)

Noticing that the trash was full, Annika mused, "Uh oh, Daddy better take out that trash, or he'll be in TROUBLE!" (Nope. Never said that one either.)

Pretending that Lydia was her own baby, and I was a friend visiting, Annika watched Lydia drop puffs from her highchair tray. "My baby is DRIVING me CRAZY, dropping all this food on the floor!" (Again, never said it.)

A few Saturdays ago while Josh was at a track meet, Lydia unloaded an impressive poo in her bath. Annika walked in, saw the damage, and said, "I just can't even look at that! What are you going to do? What? You're going to clean it up? No! Just leave it for Daddy to deal with when he gets home." (Never said anything like it. And Josh, you're welcome for cleaning up the mess & not leaving it for you.)

Yesterday while driving to swimming lessons, sirens passed on the street behind us. "Hear that? They're coming after you!" (What?)

Our neighbor next door occasionally burns in his backyard. It stinks. I close the windows if open, and try never to say anything too negative about it for fear that it will be repeated the next time we see them. The other day, Annika with a frown said, "Man, our neighbor sure does stink up the neighborhood."

And so, if you are ever startled by the words of my sweet little darling, please take a moment before you think, "I know just where she must have heard that before!" And if you actually do know where she gets this stuff, please, let me know.

Child's Eye View

My little artist amazes me. At 3, her understanding of beauty leaves me awe struck. Besides her drawings, which will be a post of their own, she is developing quite an eye for photography. Here's a sample of her work, minus the paparazzi shots she took of Lydia nursing.

"I like my tights, so I took a picture."

"This is from my car seat."

Self portrait.

"My cracker."

"My cracker's crumbs."

"Daddy." (Please excuse the messy basement. Oh, and sorry Josh ;)

Lydia

"Daddy's arms holding Lydia."

And... a curious little monkey.

The Business of a Preschooler

About a year ago, during a dinner of Artichokes and pasta, Annika announced that we were eating at "Chanos Grand Opening," her new restaurant. She's stuck with Chanos, and tells us that she owns another restaurant, Kingys, in the neighboring town of Warrenton. From what I gather, the Astoria location is more bistro, while Warrenton's is more diner.

On Josh's iphone, she discovered a restaurant app. It, of course, is Chanos online. She earns virtual money and makes wise business purchases. She regularly check on her game, making sure customers are happy, and buys necessities for a growing business. Recently, she spent about one hundred thousand dollars on a decorative lion, because "People like dragon dancers, but if you can't have a dragon, then a lion is OK."

Occasionally, Annika comes up with her own recipes, and we make them. The latest? A hotdog pancake surprise. The hotdogs are actually Linketts, a vegetarian soy product. She loves them. Anyway, we were having pancakes and berries for dinner, and what could be better than that? I'll tell you; it's a hotdog inside your pancake. What does one eat on top of this creations? Well, peanut butter and honey, of course.

 

Chanos chef enjoying the fruits of her labor, and a happy customer.

The Long Road Home & an Easter Photo Frenzy

For Easter, we loaded up the girls and headed to my Dad's new house in Port Orchard, Washington. You know when parents talk about how much gear it takes to sustain a couple of kids for a weekend, the whole "everything but the kitchen sink" cliche? Well, I'm hear to say that it's true.

It takes a LOT of stuff for a weekend now that we have two little ones. Annika, upon seeing her empty suitcase, announced that she is big enough to pack for herself. I suggested that she select a few books to take. She did, along with her new princess shoes, tutus, dress up clothes, crowns, coloring supplies, ballet slippers, a dolly, and her favorite pink blanket & pillow. Needless to say, her suitcase was full.

I squeezed her clothes into my suitcase, along with Lydia's gear; diapers, wipes, pajamas, Easter dress, back up Easter dress in case she spits up or poops on the original, back up clothes... you get the picture. By the time I attempt packing for myself, I realize that it's time to shop for a new suitcase; my cute O'Neill rolling bag from my surf shop days has been taken over. (I suppose this is as literal as metaphorical.)

Scrambling to find clothes that move beyond yoga pants & hoodies, I throw a few shirts and jeans into Josh's duffel bag, and search for church clothes suitable for breastfeeding. Tricky. Running through a checklist, making sure I have all the baby necessities, I realize that every last binky in the house needs to be sterilized.

Several hours past our targeted departure time, we are on the road, Lydia sleeping in her infant seat and Annika playing fruit ninja on Josh's iphone. With no pit stops, we cross the Tacoma Narrows Bridge, and are now only 20 minutes from our destination. Lydia begins to scream. Unwilling to pull over so close to the end of the journey, I climb to the backseat of our Passat wagon, squeeze between the car seats, buckle my self in, and scoot, lean, and struggle my way close enough to Lydia to breastfeed. It worked!

The next day was filled with egg decorating and exploring.

Lydia decided that puffs are an essential part of every meal.

Easter morning was filled with excitement; the bunny left gifts & candy, and eggs all over the yard and garden. Annika was in her element; wearing her new dress, cameras flashing in her direction all day.

I like how this one looks like Sydney & Annika have morphed into a labraAnnikadoodle.

Dancing Easter Princess.

I worked all morning on those curls. Just kidding, she's a lucky girl.

"Mommy, do you like coyotes?" "Sure I do." "Why?" "Because they're wild & wiley." "But Mommy, do you like coyote poop?" "No sweetie." "Why?" "Well, because it's poop. Try not to step in it, OK?"

After a fun filled and magical day, it was time to hit the pavement. Gear loaded, pulling out of the driveway as the sun set, waving good bye, we hear Lydia grunting in her infant seat... A quick change and we're back on our way. It was smooth sailing until about 95 miles from Astoria. Despite feeding stops, Lydia screamed as if she were being tortured in the backseat.

A friend recently remarked that parenting is the highest of highs, and the lowest of lows. Yes, that was our day. With a baby screaming as I'm trying to focus on the road (where I did see two coyote running across the highway) wishing that the miles between wherever we were and home would vanish, I began to wonder if home was all it was cracked up to be. Could we just start over, Swiss Family Robinson style out here in the woods? After all, we have enough stuff with us.

Eventually, we did make it home. Lydia ceased her rage as we approached the lights of Astoria, no joke. Happy to be home, we carried sweet sleeping Annika into bed. Lydia, ecstatic to be out of her car seat went wild with excitement. She squealed, giggled, wiggled and rallied hard until two in the morning, playing peek a boo and waving to portraits of her sister. Highs and lows...