If I can't have wine, you can't have whine.

When I was pregnant with my daughter, friends, books and internet sources all referred to the nerve-wracking tenor of a newborn's cry. So when S came along, I was prepared for the effect that her cries would have on me. I understood why some folks assert that the sound of nails scratching against a chalkboard is preferable to an infant's cry. It gets to your very core and sits there festering -- all you want to do is make it stop. It's probably quite evolutionary: this is how nature ensures that a parent attends to a helpless newborn's needs.

But, WHY didn't someone warn me about a toddler's whining?!?

My daughter is generally a loving, fun, easygoing little kid. Until the whining starts. And it started about three weeks ago and has hardly let up since. She wakes up whining for her milk, or her bunny, or her daddy. Then she whines that she wants me to read her a book, or that she doesn't want me to take a shower, or because she wants a snack. And all day long I am trying to hold my patience and tell her to ask me in her "normal voice" and to "please stop whining". I mean, we're both starting to sound like broken records.

I know I am not alone and that this must be something specific to her age. Many of my other friends with two year olds have reported the same trends in their homes. But the company I have in this misery doesn't make it any easier to bear when S is whining for "more crackers, Mama" for the fortieth time today. There is something so unnerving about the whine that makes me want to bang my head into the wall. In fact, I came up with a list of things that I would be less painful than the constant whining:

1. Answer the phone every time my mother-in-law calls (we're talking 4-5 times a day, people).
2. Open the front door everytime some 20 year old comes to my door selling magazines so that he can earn money for a "school field trip" or "college" or "camp".
3. Watch "Elizabethtown" or "In Her Shoes" again. Awful movies.
4. Have a Plantar's wart removed every day for a year. Without painkiller.
5. Take advanced calculus again.

Obviously, this list is by no means exhaustive, but you get my drift. Right now I am just trying to find ways to get through what I pray is a phase. A short-lived one. I think I am doing the right things -- at least according to my library of child-rearing reference books. I don't respond to requests delivered in a whiny voice; I ask her to use her normal voice; I don't use a whiney tone myself, etc. But, I would love to hear any advice that any other parents might have.

And, you know the worst part is that after a long day, I can't even calm my frayed nerves with a nice glass of wine. Or a stiff vodka tonic. Now that's enough to make you whine.

A Heartbeat

We saw a heartbeat yesterday. My own heart stopped in anticipation while the doctor was moving around the wand. Finally he said, "And there is the heartbeat." What an amazing, humbling, awe-inspiring thing to see. What a fragile, yet tenacious little being is growing inside me.

I know we're not out of the woods yet, but so far so good.

Keep beating little heart. Get stronger, grow bigger, come meet your Mama.

Fun in the Summertime

I just had to post a picture of S in her new $7.99 Target pool. It will go down as the best purchase of 2006!

Hot Enough for You?

So, it's about 8,000 degrees here in the Silicon Valley this week, and weirdo that I am, I really like it. I would much rather be hot than cold. S and I have been trying to find ways to beat the heat during the day (lots of runs to Target with its heavenly air conditioning), and have decided on a baby pool. We went to her friends' house yesterday where the other mom and I decided to pull out their baby pool and put our poor, flushed, overheated toddlers into it. And, it was heavenly! Not only did it cool off the kids who were adorable as they splashed around in their little swim diapers, but it contained them to one spot. That means that the mommies could sit on our asses and not have to run after them in the oven-like heat. Pure bliss. S had a great time in the pool pretending to give herself a bath.

I was hooked and decided that after naptime, S and I would run to Target (ahh, Target) to get our own baby pool. Now, when is the worst time to buy a baby pool? During a heat wave. Just like with fans -- you can never find a fan during a heat wave or a shovel during a snow storm. Yes, people, I lack foresight. In all my trips to Target, when I passed by aisles filled with baby pools, water wings, slip-n-slides, etc. never once did I think to buy one BEFORE the thermometer hit 98 degrees. Smart. So, anyway, I walk down the kiddie pool aisle, and it's completely decimated. I mean, it's like the looters have been there. I am obviously crestfallen and S is in the cart yelling, "I need pool!" because I stupidly told her ahead of time what we were buying. As I stood staring down the empty aisle, I saw a woman with the ideal baby pool in her basket. I pounced on her asking where she got it -- the poor woman must have seen the crazed look in my eyes and quickly pointed to a bare shelf and then hurried away with her baby pool tucked tightly against her chest. If she hadn't had about 50 lbs. on me, I might have tried to wrestle the pool away. Anyway, as I am sitting there forlornly looking down the aisle, I glance down, and there tucked away behind an air pump (for inflating said pools) is my jewel -- a baby pool that has been taken out of the box. I snatched it up before anyone else could wander down the aisle and get to it before me. With a little further searching, I found the box and the patch kit that comes with the pool. Aha! Mission accomplished!

$7.99 later, we get home and I decide that I need to pump up that pool right away. Once I am finished pumping it up by hand, I put it out back. By this time, it's 6pm and we're on our way out to dinner, so there is no filling it up with water. But, in her excitement, my daughter takes a flying leap and belly flops in the pool. The empty pool. The empty pool sitting on the slate patio. OUCH! R and I look on completely horrified waiting for the inevitable wailing to begin. But, it never comes. S was completely unfazed. In fact, she started pretending to swim in her empty pool. Imagine her joy when we actually fill it with water!

Today I am going to fill the pool with water, put S in the pool, pull up a chair, dip my toes in and just enjoy the arrival of summertime.

Random Randomness

My mind is a disjointed mess right now. Here is just a sampling...

-- Ah, solitude. I practically pushed R and S out the door to take a bike ride tonight. The two of them were making me crazy. There is something so delicious about getting a few minutes alone in the house that I didn't expect or plan for. It's only for a few minutes, but it's heaven.

-- I miss alcohol. All those Italian, French, and Spanish women who continue to drink during their pregnancies have my envy and admiration. I could hurt someone right now for a glass of wine or a vodka tonic. I can almost convince myself that just a little sip can't hurt. But, I didn't drink at all during my pregnancy with S, so I am not going to do differently with this one.

-- My husband is a seriously smart man. R is the smartest man I've ever met which is one reason I married him. That's why I am so confused. When it comes to cleaning the stove, he's a semi-retard. It's unreal. I find egg drippings and grease from quesadillas after he has supposedly "cleaned" the stove. And I am not sure what implement he uses to wipe stuff up, but it's not the clean cloths or towels that I keep handy for such occasions. Instead, he uses the grimiest thing he can find which does nothing but leave disgusting grease streaks all over the place. And, I sit there and tell myself, "Okay, I am NOT going to clean this up. Let him notice how nasty this is and do it himself. He'll see. He won't take for granted anymore that I'll clean up after him." This tactic of course lasts for about 8 minutes until I just can't stand it anymore clean it myself.

-- An old friend of ours is coming tonight and is going to stay with us for about 10 days. Ordinarily, I would be a whirlwind of housecleaning activity in order to prepare for a guest (particularly someone who was in our wedding), but this guy has been living with yaks, so his standards can't be too high. Seriously, with yaks. He's been living in Nepal for the past two years in villages in the Himalayas with indigenous people who don't take baths more than a couple of times a year. So, I am not sweating it. I mean, this place has to look better, right?

-- S has discovered the word "mine" and now uses it indiscriminately for everything. It could belong to anyone, but to her it's "mine." Oh, it makes social situations with other toddlers (like playgroups and birthday parties) so much freakin' fun.

-- I still miss alcohol.

Why I Love You Wednesday -- 06-14-06 Edition

Why I Love You

-- Because you laugh this throaty little giggle when you come down the slide.
-- When you get your milk in the morning, the first thing you want to do is cuddle with me.
-- You love when I rub your back and you try to rub mine too.
-- You're constantly trying to talk me into going to the park -- no matter what time of day or what else we're doing at the moment.
-- You're such a drama queen!
-- You make me laugh and my heart swell even when I am feeling blue.

Two Pink Lines

Two of them. Okay, one was light, but it was still there. So, two of them.

I am so scared. I am so afraid that this one is going to turn out like the last one. I am dreading the phone call from the doctor telling me that the HCG levels aren't growing like they're supposed to. I am freaking out everytime I go to the bathroom, hoping not to see telltale signs in my underwear. I want to rejoice in this, but I can't bring myself to do it.

And, I am scared about a second kid. Some days having just S alone is too much for me to handle with grace and aplomb. I mean, there are days that I lose my shit and yell at her. I hate that I do it, but there it is -- it happens on occasion. Am I really qualified, prepared, or cut out for two of them? Because you have one, does that automatically qualify you to have two? I am not sure.

I wanted this. I want this, I do. I am just freaked about about getting it. A little tiny part of me is rejoicing, but it's being drowned out by the huge part of me wringing its hands and worrying out loud.