What My Days Consist Of

So, Daniel has been bugging me lately about never blogging. At which point I always point out that I'm am too busy to blog. Then, he says something along the lines of "You blogged more with a newborn and no sleep than you do now." This is a "clever" way of saying "So what do you do all day?" because it doesn't involve his face getting slapped, but is essentially the same question. I give him credit for trying really hard to be sweet, tactful, and avoid getting slapped. What a guy! As a side note, I have to point this out about newborns: although I thought I was so incredibly busy at the time, in reality, newborns sleep A LOT. Just not at night, or anytime you really want them too. So, yes, I had more time to blog as a sleep-deprived zombie mom than I do now. Figures that you never appreciate the stage you're in.
Anyway, all this has gotten me thinking about what I do actually do all day with a nearly two-year-old 24/7. Here is a brief index of where my time goes:

Answering the following questions: "what's that?" 1000 a day.
(not to be confused with) "what's that sound?" an additional 1000 times a day, and "Daddy at work?" 500 times a day. There's also always "Go to park?" and/or "Go outside?" and/or "Watch (Incredibles/Nemo/Yo Gabba Gabba/Up/Elmo)?" at least 500 times a day. Each. Additional random questions throughout the day?

"Essercising" as Sam calls it (or "physical and psychological torture", as I call it) 30-60 minutes a day.

Begging Sam to use her "indoor voice" as she greets people and objects at her favorite stores, 50 times per trip to "Ta-get!" or "Spouts!" (target and sprouts)

Saying goodbye to inanimate objects including but not limited to: the TV plus whatever shows/characters were most recently on it, bananas at the store (why???), every stuffed animal we own, keys, the bathroom and stepstool after washing hands, and leftover Halloween cardboard cut outs of Elmo, Big Bird, Cookie Monster, and Oscar the Grouch (each individually) when we pull out of the garage. Total time of goodbyes--uncertain, but we rival the Von Trapps. "So long, farewell..."

Cleaning up after the annoucement "I have pee-pees." I have since learned this does not always mean "pee-pees." Always bring the wipes or planning on a super-lighting dash back across the room. Total time: Too much of my day, but really, any time is too much. I hate diapers, and I wish she was totally ready for potty training, which brings me to...

Standing around awkwardly while Sam sits on her potty seat forever doing nothing but singing while unrolling and ripping tiny bits of toilet paper. Total time: Feels like infinity. Actual time: 5-10 minutes. I'm trying to let her lead the way, so if she asks to go potty, I'll let her sit. Unfortunately, she only seems to understand "the throne" in the way it applies to royalty (namely "will you fan me and peel me a grape whilst I sit?"), and not it's more practical uses.

Providing snacks: 30 minutes, including convincing Sam that the fruits and veggies are better (hah!) than Nemo fruit snacks again, muscling her into eating two apple slices and some jicama and then breaking down and getting out a pouch after 100 rounds of "Nemo now Mommy, PEEEEASE! I eat a apple!"

Trying to get her to stay in her "big girl bed" for naps: 1hr 30 min. Unfortunately, 2 days ago, Sam figured out that my "magical Mommy power" that will make her stay in her bed isn't, um, real. That sucks. She will try anything to stall her nap, from the standard, "Water, Mommy?" to the truly creative Samism, "I watch Crebidles first, Mommy?"(Crebidles is The Incredibles, and I've got to give her props for thinking she can make a deal like that, and gain nearly 2 hours with zero benefit to me.) Thank heaven she's afraid of the dark and will not get out at night, and keeps the barganing to a minimum. So far.

Ignoring begging and/or tantrums: 1hr.

Playing toys, puzzles, playdoh, painting, learning letters, numbers, colors, and being a horsey: Total time: several hours a day.

But that's not all. Every so often, I clean a few things, like other people's underwear and toilets. I prepare a couple meals a day. The fact that they are not tasty (and they aren't) is not the point. I also find time to write occasionally, just not always on the blog.

The funny thing is, other than the diapers (okay, and the exercising!), I really wouldn't want to spend my time any other way. Even if I have to say goodbye to Elmo every stinking time we leave the house, and people look at us funny when we talk to the bananas in the produce aisle!

I Think My Torch Went Out

Those who were reading my family blog in 2008, might be surprised that I have not yet blogged about my excitement for the upcoming winter games. Nor have I decorated my home in the standard opening ceremonies red, white, and blue streamers and balloons. In fact, my pro-America cheering and trash-talking of late has been downright non-existent.
So what gives with the dousing of the Olympic torch I normally carry?
Frankly, I have no one to blame but myself, and it's a little embarrassing.
Starting when we got home from Utah after New Year's, I started my Olympic fever. Humming the Olympic theme to myself anytime I do anything remotely challenging, dreaming about Bob Costas, thinking up mean Canada jokes (which I was going to need more of than usual, seeing as the games are in Vancouver), and planning which events to Tivo so I could replay any figure skating falls over and over until it stopped being funny (oddly enough it never does). I was totally ready by the end of the first week of January.
Then I planned to get my DVR all set to try to record the opening ceremonies to make sure I didn't miss them in case some unforseen delay...but I couldn't find them in the program guide. I searched through all sorts of things looking for them, NBC, Vancouver, Ceremonies, Olympic Games...nothing. Finally, Daniel came down as I was getting super frustrated and yelling at the TV.
"I can't find the opening ceremonies anywhere!!! I want to make sure we record them!" I yelled.
Daniel looked at me like I was crazy and said "Well, yeah, the DVR only works for two weeks out."
"Yeah, and the 12th is only like four days away. They start on the 12th, right?" I asked, feeling pity that I had to explain that four is less than fourteen to my poor, ignorant husband.
"The 12th of February, honey. The Olympics aren't until February." He explained as nicely as possible, also probably feeling bad about the fact that he was married to a moron.
Whoops. I had missed the Olympics by a whole month!! How did I totally not realize that?
Embarrassed, I said "So all those commercials they've been running lately...?"
"...all say February. Yep. Every last one of them." Daniel finished for me.
Holy cow, I'm losing my mind.
So now that the Olympic Games are in fact approaching (for real this time), I find myself lacking my usual gusto, because, I've already done all that. I'm finding it very hard to work up the same level of excitement when last time my flame was doused by embarrassment.
Now that the Olympic torch is getting nearer the stadium, it's time to reignite my passion. Uh, anybody got a light?

Tons of Fun

You know you're having a doozy of a day when going to the dentist and finding out you have to get a cavity filled (for the first time since you've had permanent teeth), is not the low point.

Yesterday sure was pleasant. In fact, I was actually looking forward to my dental appointment, because I knew I would get to lie down for at least 30 minutes. I'm not saying my standards have dropped or anything but...sheesh.

Sunday was fine, we didn't take Sam to nursery because she had a fever for a few hours on Saturday, but other than classic toddler sniffles she gets the week after nursery every time she does go, she was totally happy and playful. But that was Sunday, and yesterday was Monday. Sam has developed what we think is a sinus infection that only becomes horrifically awful if she lies down--when her nose drains into her throat and makes her cough until she gags and nearly barfs. This then causes a panicked overreaction (I know, someone in my family, overreact? Crazy!) where she whimpers and cries to be consoled from her near-puke experience. The beauty of the whole thing is, since it pretty much only effects her while lying down, the only sleep she gets is when I hold her upright in a chair while she flips and flops like some sort of sea creature out of water (we're wary of moving her into a big girl bed because she still covers some serious mileage scooting all over her crib while sleeping). Yesterday, we were running on less than 5 hours of sleep and a 20 minute nap. Of course, once she gets over the hump of being exhausted, she feels okay standing up, runs around in ridiculous circles yelling and screaming with nothing but a minor stuffy nose. Plus, we're stuck in the house, because in case its a cold and not a sinus infection or just teething sniffles as previously thought, we're trying to keep her away from people. She's so tired she's throwing weird tantrums (for example, yesterday she wouldn't eat anything but kept demanding a piece of cake), and just cried for hours if she wasn't in the middle of a manic episode.

So, when can I get back in that cozy dentist chair again? Bring on the drill, I'll probably sleep through it.