On Stepparenting

I think I've said this before, but having a child hasn't made me understand my parents any better.  But having a stepdaughter has not only given me some insight into how fucked up my parents were/are, it's also given me tremendous amounts of sympathy and understanding for my own stepmother.

So, I'd never dated anyone with children until I met Mr. Adventure.  I wasn't interested in the responsibility, so I respectfully kept myself out of the single-parent dating pool.  I had a pretty rough weekend that kind of confirmed my reasons for never doing it before.  I read in Suburban Turmoil that over 70% of blended family marriages end in divorce.  Those are some freakishly high statistics.  And I can see why.  It's tough on parents who didn't/couldn't communicate well when they were dating or married to communicate after a break-up when there are a lot of negative feelings floating around.  And it's hard on stepparents.  I've kind of viewed my role as one of support.  Because I'm not Little Miss Adventure's (LMA) mom and I know that.

98% of problems stem from miscommunication.  And LMA was going to be with us through Thanksgiving this week, but her mom changed plans at kind of the last minute and it really bummed me out.  The kid loves to cook and I had already planned out how we were going to do all the prep work on Wednesday night and she would help me make pies and how fun it was going to be.  Now it's just going to be me and a bottle of wine, making Thanksgiving dinner and feeling sorry for myself because a kid, who I really have no claim to, isn't there to help me.  Boohoohoo.  Poor me.  Blah blah blah.  If I start early enough, I can always get Hamburglar to help me by pulling all the pots and pans out of the cupboards...

So, Suburban Turmoil wrote a piece called "10 Brutal Truths About being a Stepmom" and number 9 really hit home for me.  You can't fix what you didn't break.  My desire for everyone to get along and be super respectful of each other and be this super collaborative co-parenting team for LMA isn't going to happen any time soon.  And there's not really anything I can do other than be supportive and help out when I'm asked.

So, I'm just telling myself two things when situations come up and I don't like how it is being handled: 1) Not my monkeys, not my circus and 2) You can't fix what you didn't break.

Gender and sexual identity for children!

I picked up Little Miss Adventure (LMA) from school on Friday and, while we were driving, we got on the subject of love and marriage and I don't even know what.

LMA: When I grow up, I'm going to marry two girls!  I mean, two boys!

Me: You can marry a girl if you want to.

LMA: That's silly.

Me: Girls can marry girls and boys can marry boys.  I have friends in Chicago who are both girls and they love each other and they are getting married and my old roommates, who are both boys were recently, married, too!

LMA: When I grow up, I'm going to marry a house!

Me: You've lived in Idaho too long.

I've come to the conclusion that politicians and people who argue that "next people will want to marry animals or inanimate objects" or whatever are obviously getting their logic from first graders.  And I figured I should save the polygamy talk for another day.

LMA has a reading assignment for the month of November.  For every 15 minutes she reads or someone reads to her, she gets to color in a turkey on a piece of paper.  I was reading her a story called, "Yuck!  That's Not a Monster!"  In the story, a super cute little pink monster is born to some monster parents.  The pink monster is a he in the story.  We've been working on not correcting adults in our house and LMA corrected me when I was reading the story.  Mr. Adventure sent her to the corner and talked to her again about correcting adults and asked which of us is the better reader and so on.

She said it looked like a girl to her, which sparked a conversation in our house about gender and how boys can wear pink and girls can wear blue and liking a certain color doesn't mean that you are not a boy or girl or whatever.  Then she said that gay people wear pink, which spawned a whole other conversation about how liking certain colors is not indicative of sexual preference and blah blah blah.

Basically, we all learned a lot this weekend.  Hopefully some of what we were saying stuck with the Little Miss.

In Hamburglar news...

He's in the fussy phase of Wonder Week mental leap 9 and he's teething and crying a ton and getting into EVERYTHING.  I think I like him better when he wasn't mobile.

Not really, but I'm really glad to be at work today.

He and I went on a downtown adventure on Saturday and went to the different shops and bookstores and visited all of our favorite downtown people and got some coffee and a new wooden toy.  Then we went to a puppet show at the Library!  Then home for a nap.  It was fun.

He and I also got some new socks, since Owen keeps eating them all.

And that's about it.

The park, the zoo and a lot of poo

We went to Boo at the Zoo on the 25th.  Little Miss Adventure and I had sparkly masquerade masks we'd picked up for $7 each at Pier One, Mr. Adventure wore Groucho glasses and the wee babe was dressed as Chucky.  It was fun and funny.  I saw about 3,000 little girls dressed as Elsa, but no little Elsas came trick-or-treating at our house on Halloween.

Hamburglar and I are still in the weaning process.  We hit a bit of a lull because I wasn't sure how to stop the morning or night feedings, but we've skipped out on the morning feedings four days in a row, now.  He's waking up a little bit earlier, but that's okay.  I keep wondering if each session is going to be the last.  He's becoming less interested in the night feeding, too.  Which means my goal of being completely done breastfeeding by 15 months is likely going to happen.

It's the end of an era.

Mr. Adventure experienced the Poo-Pocalypse about a week and a half ago.  Chumbercules slept in late the Friday before last and he normally sleeps in a disposable diaper, and nothing else.  Mr. Adventure woke up at 9:30a and went into the babe's room and found poo everywhere.  It was in Hamburglar's hair and eyes and mouth and on the wall and all over the crib and in between the crib mattress and the crib frame... When Mr. Adventure went in there, Chumby was balling it up and dropping it on the floor.  Mr. Adventure has a sensitive stomach and is easily grossed out (I'm assuming it's because he was an only child) and he claims to have vomited twice during clean up.

Events like this make me feel better about working all day.

Halloween came.  We took Little Miss Adventure trick-or-treating.  Or, her dad took her.  She was dressed as Aurora and was pretty damn cute.  Chumbercules and I stayed home, watched Elvira, and handed out candy.  He was really into the Monsta Rap.  And yelling excitedly at trick-or-treaters.  I think we'll take him out when he's 3?  Maybe 4?  I don't know.  The following day, the Little Miss put her princess crown on Owen.  He looked very handsome.

Saturday Hamburglar and I went to story time at the library.  And we went to the Nordstrom rack and I found some rad baby toys, including this guy from Skip Hop.  I love wooden toys, and I love this giraffe.  It was $6 at the rack.  I also got him some bath toys for $3 and talked myself out of spending the rest of my paycheck on adorable dresses for the Little Miss.  I think I may take her out to find a fancy holiday dress the next time we have her.

Saturday it monsooned all afternoon and all night.  So we were going a bit stir crazy.  I baked muffins Sunday morning and Rupert ate most of them off the counter, because he's a dick.  Then Chumby and I went to the park.  I was trying to get him to walk to the play area from the car, but the play area is around the bend and he really wanted to put leaves in his mouth.  Once I got him to where he could see the playground, he headed straight for the swings.  because the swings are obvs the best thing ever.  I got some really good pictures.

One of my favorite bloggers posted a while ago about photo wallpaper, and I've been mentally putting together our wallpaper photo thing in my head for a while now.  After we paint, it's going above the couch in the living room.

I think I want a real camera.  Since I'm the one that typically photographs our lives, I think my old Galaxy S2 isn't really cutting it anymore.  I have 1700 photos on my phone, because I don't want to delete them.  Because I'm a photo hoarder.  Even though I have them all backed up in the Cloud.

Three things

Thing 1) We went apple picking and pumpkin patching last weekend and it was awesome.  It was way better than the more carnival-like pumpkin patch we went to last year.  And Hamburglar really enjoyed eating apples and walking around in the orchard.  Though, he wasn't strong enough to pick up the pumpkin he wanted.

Thing 2) This is a thing.  And this.

Thing 3) Did you know that I have a Tumblr page?  I have 4 followers and I only know three of them!  I kind of love Tumblr.  one of my coworkers said it's for porn, but I haven't seen much of any of that on there, so I don't know.  But they do have this.  And Skeletor is Love.

Also, just a heads up, The Ugly Volvo has a new post up.

Other than that...

We are going to Boo at the Zoo this weekend and we are going to carve and paint pumpkins.  And maybe make some pie.  Because pie is delicious.

Hamburglar is 13 months!

It's doubly official.  Hamburglar is a man.  He's 13 months old today.  And he's been getting in to EVERYTHING.

He climbed into the dishwasher when I was putting away dishes earlier this week.  And he's become quite adept at removing disposable diapers and peeing all over his bed, then crying about it.  I don't know why he yells at me about it.  I'm not the one who peed all over his bed.

I really need to get a second mattress cover.

I went to Macy's last weekend and found some fleece footie pajamas with moustaches all over them.  So I bought them for Chumbercules.  I know what you're thinking.  "Why doesn't she just put clothes on her baby at night, then he can't remove his diaper."

You're so smart.

Months ago when Hamburglar and I went to visit a friend in Seattle, Chumby was just hanging out in his diaper.  My friend's fiance, whose family is from the Yucatan in Mexico, remarked, "White babies.  They never wear clothes."

Since then, one of my favorite things to do is text her pictures of Hamburglar in his diaper with the caption, "White babies."

He will be wearing clothes more now that the weather is changing, but I figure he should enjoy running around in his underwear as much as possible while it is still socially acceptable.  There are only two times you can really do that in your life.  One is when you're a baby/toddler and the other is in college.

We haven't started potty training yet, though if Hamburglar's desire to put his hands in the toilet is an indication of potty-training readiness, I would say we are ready.

We also haven't really advanced any further on the whole weaning-from-breastfeeding thing.  We're down to two feedings per day, morning and night, and I would really like to cut those out soon.  But this baby is like a vengeful God and I would gladly sacrifice lambs or the bolt from the fireplace door or whatever to get him to stop expressing his disdain for things in such a loud manner.

I also came across this piece in elephant journal yesterday.  Every time I breastfeed Chumbercules now, I wonder if it will be the last time.  It's weird watching him become a boy.  One of my coworkers has a 13 year old and his voice recently changed and he said something to her when she was in the kitchen with her back to him and she said he scared her because her first thought was, "Who is this strange man in my house."

And that's it.

We are going to the pumpkin patch this weekend and we are going to find Little Miss Adventure her Halloween costume.  And we got Rupert a Halloween costume.  He doesn't seem to like it much, though.

If I could do it all again: Things I learned in Year One

Maybe it's the scientist in me, or maybe it's my low self-esteem coupled with my narcissism, but I spend a lot of time thinking.  Traditionally, most of that thinking has been about myself.  For the past year or so, most of it has been about everything else.  (Though I do spend significantly less time thinking about environmental quality issues.  If patchwork-wearing, Volkswagen-driving, dreadlock-having 19-year-old me could see me now, I don't think she would approve. I don't think she would disapprove necessarily, but she (and I) both know that I could be doing much more).  Mostly I think about my family.  Mr. Adventure, Hamburglar, Little Miss Adventure and the dogs.  I think about how I could be more patient and listen better and schedule more enrichment activities or even just leave the house more.

For the most part this past year, I've followed my instincts. But there are some things I really could have done better.

1) Ask for help and accept it when it's offered.  

How many first-time parents out there feel like they have to do everything?  Even now.  I have a new member meet-up tonight with other moms of young babes for a group in my area and the meet-up time is 7:30.  That is also baby bedtime.  I have never not been there for baby bedtime.  What if everyone is still awake when I get back?  What if the house catches on fire (again)?  Or (worse) what if baby Hamburglar and Mr. Adventure don't need me at all and bedtime goes super smooth?  Sometimes I'm not sure which is worse: being needed or not being needed.  You know?  But really, people can't read minds.  And if you keep telling everyone you don't need help, they will eventually stop offering.  And maybe think you're a dick.

All I know for sure is that I need to get out of the house more.  And you can't get out of the house without help.  Speaking of getting out of the house...

2) Get out of the house more.

Those first couple of months when Hamburglar's neck was all floppy were really hard.  I was afraid his head would fall off if I put a shirt on him.  So I had some of those kimono-wrap-style shirts.  (They were also good so he didn't have a onesie rubbing on his belly button).  I also didn't really get out much.  I envisioned myself going on long, lesiurely strolls with Mr. Adventure, the dogs and Chumbercules every day.  We would walk at least a mile, sometimes four or five.  Realistically, we hardly made it out of the house.  Part of that is because as soon as you have a new baby fed, rested, changed, burped and dressed, the cycle starts all over again.  Also, Hamburglar was a really high needs baby.  Moreso than other babies, from what I understand.  And that's okay.  The best way to get your needs met is by asking for them (see number one).

In addition to getting the baby out into the fresh air and into the world, you need to get out, too.  With your partner.  By yourself.  With your dogs.  People say this over and over again and it's written everywhere, but that's because it's true.  And I know there isn't time.  I work 40+ hours a week.  I really need a pedicure and I want to go back to Jimmy and get my hair done again (I've decided I need to go back to blonde).  Realistically, though I've been thinking about how I need/want to do these things, I'll feel accomplished if I get half of one of them done by Christmas.

3) Determine your priorities

My priority is sleep.  For everyone in the house.  I go to bed at 8 o'clock some nights and it's awesome.  I don't worry about the house being clean.  I mean, we wipe down counters and vacuum pretty regularly (you have to with two dogs and a baby who has developed a taste for clumps of dog hair, preferably fresh from the dog) but sometimes the laundry sits for a long time without being folded.  After sitting for a long time without being washed.  I've thought about getting a 4th laundry basket, but that would just mean one more basket of laundry I would fill and eventually have to fold and put away.

4) It's okay to make your job easier

This isn't really that important, but I wish I had a Moby from day 1.  I got mine from a friend when Chumbercules was 4 months old and it was nice, but I think it would have benefited us both earlier.  I've since given that Moby to a friend who had her baby boy in June and they have been using the shit out of it.  She is (crazy/amazing) working on her Ph.D with a newborn.  I had a hard enough time being in grad school while pregnant, I don't think I'd be able to do it now.

Also, instead of my super fancy Hushamok Baby Hammock, I wish I'd had an arms reach co-sleeper.  Or maybe just bought the $30 mattress from Hushamok and put it in a cardboard box next to my bed for baby to sleep in.  I am glad we didn't bed share, though.

I also wish I'd had a Boppy or it's equivalent.  I probably would have gotten one if I'd understood how it worked/what it was for.  I thought you were supposed to put the baby on it while you fed him and it didn't make sense to me.  Maybe that would have prevented me from getting DeQuervain's Tendinitis?

I also kind of wish I'd rented a hospital grade pump.  I've heard they are amazing.  But I bought my pump for $100 off Craigslist.

5) You don't really need as much stuff as you think you do

We have a lot of bottles.  My mentor bought the Dr. Brown's pack, plus my boss bought us 6 Life Factory glass bottles, four 9-oz bottles and two 4-oz bottles.  We didn't need nearly that many.  I think two of each would be good.  A 4-oz and a 9-oz in each type.  I liked the Dr, Brown's for when baby boy was little, though.  And now that we are weaning, we have ten million bottles.  Half of them (or more) have never been used.  We still use the Life Factory ones, though.  Because you can turn them into sippy cups with these super awesome caps.

I also have so many freaking clothes.  Really, since he's not in daycare and we don't get out much, he spent most of Spring/Summer running around in his diaper.  But you can never have too many baby fedoras.

6) Research how to clean cloth diapers

There's a facebook group called Fluff Love and CD Science.  It's really helpful.  I'm in the process of re-vamping my diaper wash routine yet again.

7) I'm running out of steam here/getting distracted, so, just do what feels right.

Unless what "feels right" to you involves doing horrible things to your baby.  Then you should refer to number one and get some counseling.  And it's okay if you need counseling.  You're not some huge loser/terrible person if you have postpartum depression and need professional help.  You're awesome because you realize this and seek out the assistance you need to be the best parent/person you can be.

8) Baby snuggles are pretty much the best thing ever.

And baby laughs.  And baby words.  And baby back flips.  And claps.  And running.  And walking.

Now, for a funny story that is unrelated to any of this:

I picked up Little Miss Adventure (LMA) from school last Friday so she could spend the weekend with us.  She had a note from her teacher and Mr. Adventure read it when we got home.  It had said that LMA had used bad language and got into trouble.  She told her dad that she had called a little girl in her class a "peanut."  After several minutes, we learned she had called her a penis.  And I still can't stop laughing.  But I did good while her dad was talking to her and did not laugh once (until I couldn't take it any more and I left the room to laugh).  I guess another girl in her first-grade class had asked if LMA liked her drawing.  LMA said no and the other kid called her a penis.  So she said, "I think you're a penis."  Hahahahaha

The end of an era

Well, folks.  Here we are.  It is baby Hamburglar's birthday.  My baby is now a man.  I've decided the best way to celebrate is to send him out in the woods with the pocket knife I got him at the Bonneville Dam gift shop to kill his first bear.  And make his own diapers from a deer hide.  Or maybe beaver skin.  It's time he put all of the skills he's learned over the past year to use.

Or not.

But we are going to start potty training.  One of my coworkers gave me the potty chair she used for her oldest son.  Yeah, a used potty chair seems kind of gross, but this one sat in her attic for, like, 15 years.  I'm not sure exactly why, but that makes it seem better/less gross for some reason.  I figure that, since Hamburglar is walking now, he can start walking to the toilet.  Now we just need to figure out the best way to go about it.  I'm thinking about just putting him on the toilet every hour so he gets used to it?  I don't know.  more research is needed.

Also, it's the end of my 22 month run of no periods.  I started my period yesterday.  And, whereas it's nice to have a physical sign that I'm not all knocked up again, I'm going to miss not bleeding every month.  I'm converting from a New Mom back into a Real Human.

Hamburglar's birthday was a big hit.  We had his party on Saturday and there were kind of a lot of people there.  We had a barbecue and I set the time from 1-3p.  We didn't start the grill until just after 1 and, if I were to do it again, I would have had Mr. Adventure start the grill a bit earlier and maybe do the pinata while the food was grilling.  But the food was great and it was a hit.

(Ignore the man texting in this picture.  He's the only person we let visit us in the hospital after Chumbercules was born.)


Well, the pinata wasn't a hit.  Because it was a pull-string pinata.  I stuffed it with bubbles, wind-up toys and Minion graham crackers.

I had a friend over on Friday night who helped me do things like: pick up dog poop and make little hot air balloons.

We made the hot air balloons out of paper lanterns I got on clearance at Pier One, some yarn I had lying around, and little gift boxes I found at the dollar store.  And the vases of flowers came from Whole Foods.  Today is Nick the Florist's birthday, too!







After she left, Little Miss Adventure helped me make cupcakes and a cheeseball.  The cupcakes burned.  Because my stove is old and the temperature gauge doesn't exactly work well.  But they were only a little burned, so I rolled with it.









For the cake, I made a Poke Cake.  Kind of.  I used a box of Devil's food cake, baked it, let the cupcakes cool over night (because they were burned and I was contemplating throwing them away).  The next morning, I saw that Mr. Adventure had eaten one of them, so I figured they weren't too burnt to eat.

I made concentrated cherry jello (I only used one cup of boiling water instead of adding a cup of cool water, too) and I poked holes in the tops of the cupcakes with a fork.  When I tried to pour the jello, I made a giant mess.  So, I decided to rip the top/center off of each cupcake and try again.

After successfully jello-ing each cupcake, I made the frosting.  I used vanilla pudding, concentrated (I only used 1 cup of milk to mix it) and beat it with a tub of Cool Whip.  It was pretty good.  Hamburglar got frosting in his eyes.

I also made an angel food/pineapple cake.  It's my go-to cake if I need a desert in a hurry.  You just take a box of angel food cake and a 20 oz. can of crushed pineapple, mix them together in a bowl, pour into a baking a dish and bake at 350 for about 20 minutes.  I only set the kitchen timer about half the time, so I'm never exactly sure how long things take.  I also use my hand as a measuring cup a lot of the time, so in half of my specialty recipes, I have no idea what is in them.  Like my hot wings.  People ask for the recipe all the time and I've given it to them, but no one can ever reproduce it.  I think because I do a lot of things by taste?  I don't know.

Anyway, that's about it.  Mr. Adventure has school tonight, so I think I'm going to take the baby on a dinner date somewhere.