What am I – new or something?

There is not enough room down there for anything anymore.

Today while sitting in bed doing some reading I peed. The Bed. I didn’t laugh or cough or sneeze, I was just reading some poorly written chick lit. And I peed. Initially I thought that maybe, just maybe my water had broken (because I don’t actually know what that is like since I was induced for The Dictators birth)  and that would just figure since Stewart was away at work at the time.

Thankfully just the duvet and cover got wet (and it wasn’t much) – but seriously folks I am 32 years old, you would think I would understand when to go to the damn bathroom already.

I need to get back to my regularly scheduled program of wiping ass and kicking the laundry pile (which is now bigger due to a king size goose down duvet and cover).

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The Golden Hour

About a month ago we moved The Dictator into a big boy bed. This was monumental for us since the little bugger was risking life and limb daily getting in and out of his crib (with the side-rails all the way up). We figured it would be a good time to take the crib apart and put it away before The Deuce arrives – just so The Dictator would not think we were giving ‘his’ bed to the new baby and get jealous.

Before the move The Dictator was well known for sleeping in until at least 7:30-8:30am every morning without fail and for taking 2 to 3 hour naps each afternoon. If he did wake up early he would play by himself quietly until we came to get him – which was super nice since I usually snuck a shower in before I got him out of the crib. NOW the little stinker has started waking up between 6:15am and 6:21am (ooohhh big time range; 6 minutes) and screaming for Mama at his door (we had locked him in his room at night so he wouldn’t wander around the house or fall down the stairs).

Last night I decided not to lock him in his room. This turned out to be a very. good. plan. The Dictator slept until 7:20am and then came to my room and crawled into my bed until 8:00am.

That golden hour of extra sleep and morning cuddles with a sleepy toddler (and the snoring dog) totally made my day.

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I am a winner. And a total loser.

It has been ages since I won anything. Seriously. The last time I won something it was a pair of jeans from a McDonalds Playland birthday party when I was 6 or 7 years old. They featured Ketchup and Mustard stitching. They were SO HOT I can’t even find a photo of them online.

Imagine my surprise when I found out from Haley-O that I won an award winning Clek Olli car booster seat from her Cheaty Goodies give-away site. This handy little item will be much appreciated when The Dictator hits 40 pounds and we need the other car seat for The Deuce, or to use as a second seat for the Grandma’s vehicles. Check them out they come in a ton of fun colors (leopard? zebra? I thought they only existed in my shoe wardrobe – now I can have them for my car too!) and interchangeable seat covers for easy cleaning.

Now for the loser part.

The Dictator didn’t go for a nap until 2:15pm today – and by 3:30pm he was up asking for milk. He doesn’t usually drink milk – odd I think. So I gave him 2 cups (YES 500 mL! or a half litre! and he drank it ALL!) of moo-juice and somehow convinced him to go back to bed. I am watching him roll around in bed with his monkey – so I think I am going to be the biggest loser on the nap front today. Which sucks because The Deuce in Utero is totally tiring me out and making me nauseous today

Dammit he just opened his door. I guess he is up for good.

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Hypocrisy and the Evil Trifecta

First is a confession. I am a hypocrite.

Now for an important announcement brought to you by The Dictator.

We will be welcoming The Deuce into our family around December 3, 2008. Feel free to show up a bit early Deuce, since your older brother was almost 2 weeks late.

I have spent the past four weeks battling at least one of the evil trifecta of pregnancy at any one time. Fatigue, nausea and irritability; I am your bitch. Smells and meat totally gross me out right now, yet for some reason I have a painful craving for Panago pizza. Chicken Club no tomatoes and Tropical Hawaiian to be precise. I went a full pregnancy with The Dictator without a single craving. The craving things that are not in your house thing just is not fun. Nope. Not at all.

Currently I have the fear of twins, that could be because my friend was just here with her twin boys or it could be because I have been feeling fetal movement already (at 10 weeks); which Dr. Google says can be a sign of a multiple pregnancy. Did I mention multiples run in both sides of my family? Twins and triplets. I doubt it is happening here though.

So in a nutshell I have been to lazy and pukey to post lately. But I promise I shall get better at this soon.

On the bright side, if the Canadian Food Inspection Agency needs someone to sniff out Mad Cows or rancid meat in filthy restraunts, I am your girl!

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