Second Child

I feel a little guilty that all my Facebook posts, blog entries (few though they maybe), and anecdotes in language training are about Boy. Between his behavior problems and his general toddlerness, Girl can get lost a little bit. She's incredibly amenable to the mayhem that is our Boy-focused lives.

Boy loves to make her smile, and she constantly looks for him (unclear if that is out of love or self-preservation). She'll sit on my hip while I chase Boy through a two-hour playdate. She eats like a champ, sleeps like a champ, and gets various things stuck in her neck rolls like a champ. She looks almost nothing like Boy, and is just the baby I needed. I can't tell you how much I love to squeeze her and kiss her incredibly full cheeks. She turns five months old on Monday.

Malicious Pooping

Brilliant.

I love my children. I cherish bedtime for the snuggliness, the kisses, the story time, and, in Girl's case, the delicious feeling of a soft, round chunk falling heavily to sleep on your shoulder.

That said, parents who allege they wouldn't be happier if they were sleeping more are probably lying. Even the most attached of attachment parenting proponents has felt the tear-inducing frustration of a child who just will. not. sleep. I feel fortunate that, with rare exception, my kids are both asleep by 8:00 every night, which allows me a couple hours of completely unproductive and precious Mom Time.

That said, Boy is rounding the bend to three years old, and spends most afternoons fighting his nap. Because we've removed rockets from his room (he puts them "to bed" outside the baby gate), he's had to resort to other distractions. The latest is strategically timed poop. I'll give someone a kidney if that child isn't holding it in until/prematurely forcing it out two minutes after Nanny/Mom/Dad leave the room, making us come back to change the disaster that his diaper. If a diaper change isn't exciting, nothing is. With the right amount of squirming, giggling and kicking, it can take a number of minutes--just enough time to get the sillies and blow any possibility of a reasonably-timed nap.

Today, while he was actually going to the potty (!), I was commenting to Nanny that I believed his nap-pooping was malicious. Boy was apparently listening. His new word? "Malicious."

Easter

We had a lot of fun Easter Weekend. Saturday morning Boy helped me make carrot cake cupcakes. I usually believe cake is merely a vehicle for the icing, but carrot cake is a cake I actually like. (That's 5 "cakes" in two sentences.)

Boy helped mix up the batter.

And after nap, he helped decorate them.

I've since learned not to hand a toddler a jar of sprinkles.

After an interlude of playing outside (such gorgeous weather!), we dyed Easter eggs with Boy's godmother (who was a total trooper).

Sunday morning we went hunting for Easter eggs in the backyard. Boy did great.

He sadly took about three minutes to figure out where the last one was. I'll admit it was tricky. You know, on the seat and everything. In plain sight.

Later that morning we dressed up-ish for brunch at Dzadza and Grandma's house. Boy wore the seersucker pants I made him the week before (more on those later).

Girl looked adorable and sported a headband (against her father's wishes).

We played in the park I used to play in as a little girl.

Later that day, Boy spent some quality playtime in the backyard while I clicked away.

It was a great Easter, and the first when Boy was old enough for a visit from the Easter Bunny.