The Girls' Bedroom

The last time I mentioned the girls' bedroom on the blog was back in the summer of 2013 when we were getting it spruced up for Vivi's arrival.  It's changed a lot since then, so I thought I'd post some pictures.  

There's still more to be done.  I think there will always be more to be done.  And, on the off chance that I do ever "finish" their room, they will probably be old enough to want to change everything about it anyhow.  The room is very pink because it's Madeline's favorite, but we joke that someday Vivi will paint her half black in protest.  In the meantime, I get to have fun and do what I want in there.  

There is only one window in the room.  It lets in a lot of light though.  My iPhone pictures are a little washed out, but the removable polka dots on the wall are metallic gold.  The walls are a very pale pink/peach.  I love that color.  I would paint the whole house that color if Eric could stomach it.    

As you can see, the ceiling is sloped on Madeline's side of the room under the eaves of the house, which makes fitting furniture a little awkward.  Still, I think Madeline feels cozy nestled into the corner at night.  Her bed is pretty high off the ground, so she uses a rail to hold her in.  

There isn't enough space between her bed and the radiator for a nightstand, so I have plans to add some small book racks on the wall.  When I check on her at night, she always has piles and piles of books surrounding her, so maybe she'll be more comfortable if she has someplace to keep them.  

Madeline's dresser and bookshelf are at the foot of her bed.  The dressers are from Ikea.  I painted them a shade darker than the walls.   

The bookshelf fits perfectly under the eaves and behind the closet door.  We keep our oversized books, hair ribbons, and a piggy bank on the top.  The shade on the lamp broke, so that needs to be replaced.  There's also an embroidery sampler that I found at a thrift store hanging on the wall that reads, "Love is Awesome."  

Madeline's banner is left over from her first birthday party.  They are printable letters from Martha Stewart's website. The mushroom nightlight was a present for Maddie's first Christmas.  

See that yellow spot on the ceiling next to the closet door in the photo below ?  That's some recent water damage resulting from the winter from hell.  The ice dams on that side of the house were pretty bad since it never gets any sun and is too high for Eric to reach.  I'm not sure how to fix that spot, but it's on the list.  

This wall faces the window.  There's a random rectangular column in the middle of it that encases our chimney.  The shelves house an old iPod dock that we use as a sound machine, their snowglobe collection, and some delicate toys.  My sister passed that glider along to us when Madeline was born.  I still use it to rock Vivi to sleep.  When we're done with it, that space will be perfect for a desk or some bean bag chairs.  

This corner of the room is rarely neat as it is usually covered in books, shoes from the closet, (my girls have a thing about trying on ALL the shoes) and stuffed animals from the basket.  Vivi is working on taking out some books in this very picture. About two minutes after this it was taken, this corner was a mess again. 

Vivi's name banner is hanging from the shelves temporarily.  We had it above her dresser, but she kept pulling it off the wall.  Babies.

Vivi's side of the room is still rather bare.  We use Viv's dresser as her changing table, although the older she gets, the less we actually change her diaper up there.  Vivi uses the same blue crib from the old apartment that Madeline used.  It converts into a toddler bed, so she'll be in it for a while.  Eventually we'll either get a bed to match Madeline's, or we're considering bunk beds along that wall.  

That wall needs some artwork and a mirror above Vivi's dresser.  

The old butterfly mobil I made while pregnant with Maddie is hanging above Vivi's crib just out of reach.  She really likes to watch it, but it's kinda out of place there.

 I still want to change the light fixture above Madeline's bed.  We have that same fixture throughout our house.  It's heavy, black, and very Victorian looking.

The curtains have a pink pompom trim that I added to a set of plain Ikea curtains.  Ikea curtains are wicked inexpensive.  Like, you can't buy fabric that cheap.  I was sold.

So that's where my girls sleep, play, and plot future world domination.  

I Just Want to Be Clean

 I'm always a little jealous of my coworkers' desks at school.  They are neat and tidy with color-coded folders, tabbed lesson books, and carefully placed figurines that read something like, "Teachers Poop Rainbows on a Cloudy Day."  They look, in short, what an educator's desk should look like.  Neat.  Professional.  Organized.

The only two days my desk looks like that is on the first and last day of the school year.  In the space between, it's almost always covered in piles of paper, student projects, long-forgotten lesson books, and old Tupperware containers.  And I can never find a working pen or the hall passes.  

My desk could be featured in one of those afternoon specials they use as a warning in health class.  My desk chose the wrong path in life, kids.  Don't be like that desk.

It's not that I don't want my desk to be a role model for other desks.  I'm not lazy.  I care.  It's just that my brain doesn't work that way.  My thoughts are not organized and tidy.  As a result, I have a hard time keeping things in order.  

If you had met me in my twenties, my entire life looked like my messy desk.  My car, my purse, my apartment.  It was all a hot mess of laundry piles and Styrofoam coffee cups.  

But I didn't mind.  I didn't even see the mess.  I knew just which pile of papers my bills were tossed in, and I knew which pile of shoes contained the boots I was looking for.  That's all that mattered.  

Then, sometime shortly after giving birth to Madeline, things began to change.  Maybe it was what they call "nesting."  Maybe my new mommy brain was cluttered enough already without adding piles of crafting supplies to the mix.  Maybe being a parent simply means that you choose to not let your offspring grow up in squalor whenever possible.  Whatever the reason, something in my brain snapped.  I see the mess now.  I can't stand living that way any longer.

I want things neat.  I want things organized.  I want to be able to find my damn car keys and phone and boots the second that I need them.  

So if you want to know how motherhood has changed me the most.  This is it.  It's not the capacity to love someone more than myself.  It's the desire to have a color-coded food-storage system in the pantry.

Now, I don't just wash my clothes, but I actually take the time to put the laundry away.  I dust.  I vacuum.  A lot.  I sweep.  A lot. I throw the mail out instead of letting it pile up on all the flat surfaces.  I disinfect.  I sort.  I organize.

Is my life any less cluttered?  Does my world now resemble a Febreze commercial?

No.  

Sadly the joke is on me.  Those darn, beautiful children of mine, who pushed me to change my filthy ways in the first place, just keep making more messes.  I follow them around the house wiping blueberry fingerprints off the furniture and nagging Maddie to pick up her puzzle pieces.  

I'm stuck in some sort of Sisyphean hell of my own making where I spend my days cleaning, and cleaning, and cleaning.  Yet, our house never gets any cleaner.

We spent the morning cleaning their room.  Then this happened.  

I've tried staying on top of the mess, but that just means that I do nothing but clean every waking moment of my life.  I've tried ignoring the mess, opting to clean it all in one swift swoop.  That just makes living here unbearable.  I've tried scheduling my cleaning.  Yet, on the days that I'm scheduled to scrub the kitchen floor, I find that the bathroom floor really needs it more.

And my brain!  My disorganized, wandering, cluttered brain!  Why must you decide that the closet needs reorganizing half way through cleaning the living room?

I don't know what the answer is.  I need a maid.  A new brain would be great too.  You know what?  Just send me Martha Stewart.

Meanwhile, I go back to work next fall.  This will give me a reprieve from spending my days cleaning up after two mini mess monsters.  I bet my desk is shaking at the thought of my return though.  It's probably never looked so good than in my absence.  Sorry desk.  

Other People DO Exist, And Maybe They're Not So Bad

Recently Vivi has had a breakthrough.  She seems to have accepted the fact that other people exist in the world.  More importantly, she has decided that since they exist, she might as well like them.  It only took her fourteen months, but baby girl is making friends.

For example, Nana and Pop visited over the weekend, and even though she hadn't seen them since Christmas, she let them both hold her without so much as a whimper.  They read stories, played games, held hands.  Life is good with Nana and Pop, Vivi decided.

Then Amy, my best friend, came over on Sunday afternoon.  There was a time when Vivi wouldn't even look at her.  Now?  She cuddles with Amy too.   

And yesterday, when my mom came over, Vivi toddled right over to sit in her lap.     

There were no tears, no clinging to Mumma in fear, no awkward introduction period even though she's met these people more times than we could count.  She's all good.

We can even go out in public without her bursting into tears every time a stranger glances her way.

She didn't mind the random old man who patted her on the head at CVS then called Madeline a "handsome fella." (Although she probably shouldn't make friends with that guy.) She went around handing plastic balls to several dads at the playground on Saturday morning.  She tried to make friends with another baby at the bookstore by standing awkwardly close and staring at her.  (That's how I make friends too.)  

On the other hand, she gave the stink eye to a perfectly nice waitress who smiled at her today.  She didn't like a nurse we saw last week, or one of those cashiers at the supermarket yesterday.  Nor did she enjoy a different baby we met at the library recently.

But that's okay.  She doesn't have to like everyone, and she should be a little wary of strangers. Besides, who knows?  Maybe that baby at the library was a real bastard.  Vivi knows.  

Sick

We are sick people living in a sick world. Literally.  We have germs, and I've had it up to here with them.  

I'm not one of those people who spends the entire winter longing for warm weather.  I enjoy the changing seasons, although I hate heat, and cannot imagine living someplace without snow.

But this year?  I'm that person.  Enough is enough!  Too much snow!  Too much cold!  Too many days stuck indoors!  Too many recirculating germs!  

I feel like I've been experiencing some form of illness or another since Christmas.  I know we're not alone.  It's like the entire state has been sharing lip balm.  Everyone is sick.  

We need open windows!  We need fresh air!  We need to get the sick out of our systems!  I've been spraying everything with Lysol, and I HATE the smell of Lysol.  

This week it's Vivi's turn to be ill.  I think she has the same stomach virus that I had three weeks ago.  Her symptoms are the same.  But three weeks later?  Could that be?  Come on! This bastard should have been out of our lives by now.  Take a hint, dude.  Nobody likes you.  

Thankfully, due to years spent in the germ factory that is daycare, Madeline seems to have the immune system of a lead box.  She hasn't been sick much this winter at all.  (Knock on wood!)  Although she has had to miss school a few times because her sister or mumma were too sick.  Poor girl.

Likewise, Eric very rarely gets sick.  I joke that he's the Typhoid Mary of the family.  I'm convinced that he brings all these germs home from work, but never shows any symptoms.  That stomach bug that took three weeks to work its way into Vivi?  It's probably been lounging in Eric playing video games and drinking beer for the past month.

Sigh...so I guess it's really just me who is sick all the time.  Dammit.  Maybe it's a lack of vitamin D.  This pale skin is good for nothing.  Maybe I should start bathing in Lysol.  Maybe I should stop wiping my children's noses and let them figure it out.  Maybe I should wear rubber gloves every time I go to the grocery store.  I swear that's where we pick up a lot of crap.  Stop breathing on everything,  you germ-y strangers.

Come on, spring! 

Vivi Eats: Life With Food Allergies 4

This is the last "Vivi Eats" for awhile.  After four weeks of these updates, you're probably getting the idea.  Avoid dairy, eggs, and peanuts...yada, yada, yada...and she loves blueberries!

If you want a recap, see here, here, and here.  

Otherwise, this is what Vivi ate on Monday:

Pre-Breakfast:

Dry Cheerios

Juice/ Water mix

Breakfast:

Thomas' Cinnamon Raisin Bagels

Blueberries

Juice/ Water (leftover from pre-breakfast) 

We tried these bagels out for the first time this week, and she loves them!  She likes them plain, but I'm trying to convince her that they're better covered in jam.  

Nap:

8 oz Nutramigen formula

Lunch:

Sunbutter and jelly roll up (using Joseph's lavish bread) 

Watermelon

Frozen peas (she did not eat)

Almond Milk 

Snack:

Wheat Thins

Clementine (which she saw me eating and stole) 

Almond Milk

Dinner:

Baked lemon chicken

Rice Pilaf

Broccoli

Almond Milk

I chopped the chicken and broccoli into super tiny pieces and mixed them with the rice.  Vivi LOVES rice, so she didn't notice the additions while she was busy shoveling fistfuls of food in her mouth.  

Bedtime:  

8 oz Nutramigen Formula  

Vivi doesn't like almond milk that much, and she likes coconut and soy milk even less.  Even though I offer her almond milk throughout the day, she rarely takes more than a few sips.  We ran out of formula the other morning, so we tried giving her almond milk in her bottle instead.  She drank for about three minutes before she realized that something was different.  Then she was mad.  Really mad.  Mad enough to yell right through her nap.  Boo.  She might be drinking Nutramigen till she's sixteen, and insurance is no longer covering it...so awesome...

Sister Drama

Vivi gets angry when I brush her big sister's hair.  She whines, screeches, and tries to claw her way between us.  I'm not sure if she's jealous of the attention I'm giving Madeline, or if she's jealous of the fact that Madeline has hair while she doesn't.  Either way, it's a problem.

After her usual tantrum yesterday, she suddenly gave up whining, snatched book Madeline was reading out of her hands, and toddled quickly out of reach.  

Since I had Madeline gripped firmly by the hair, there wasn't much the poor girl could do to defend herself other than cry out, "Hey!  Vivi!  Mumma, Vivi just took the book I was reading right out of my hands!"  

I looked up in time to see a look shoot across the room from one sister to another. THE look.  An evil, vindictive, glass-cutting glare.  And it was coming not from Madeline, but from my baby!  

It only lasted a second, but it was enough.  The message was clear.  "You took my Mumna. I took your book! And if you cross me again, I'm gonna have to cut a bitch."  

This was not an act of innocent babyhood.  Stealing that book was vindictive.  Calculated.  Aggressive.  

Somewhere beneath the chubby cheeks and doe eyes, there lurks the natural instinct to kill or be killed.  Vivi does not intend to loose in life.  Not now.  Not ever.  I admit.  I was a little scared by what I witnessed.    

By the time I finished Madeline's braid, the brush, the book, and the look had all been forgotten.  They went right back to playing as if nothing had happened.

I've witnessed this pattern over and over again.  For the briefest of seconds, after some wrong or another, they are worst enemies.  Five seconds later, they are best buddies again.  I don't pretend to understand it.  I try my best to stay out of it and let nature take its course.  Although, after seeing that look, I would watch my back if I were Madeline.

So, in an effort to help me forget that my sweet child may actually be Rosemary's Baby, here are some cute pictures of the girls loving one another. 

The protect one another from the vacuum cleaner.

They watch cartoons together.  

They share toys.  

Maddie reads books to her little sister.  

That Vivi in the Window

Vivi loves to look out the windows of our house.  

I like to think that she's having deep thoughts about life, love, and truth like whether that darn dress is black or gold. 

 Or maybe she's just nosy. Vivi could be the Gladys Kravitz of our neighborhood, and she knows everyone's dirty little secrets.  Someday she will use this knowledge to bend the neighbors to her will.  

I saw what you did, Mrs. O'Sullivan. Now hand over those frozen blueberries and nobody ever has to know.  

As long as she doesn't get Rear Windowed, this could lead to big things.  She could be the blueberry mob boss of the Merrimack Valley.  

Or maybe it's been cold for so long that she doesn't know what outside is.  After all, she has the long-term memory of a small rabbit, and it's been a really long winter.  To Vivi, the world is made up of our house, the car, the entry-way to Maddie's school, and the supermarket.  It's a small world after all.  

Someday, little one, there won't be snow over your head, and I'll bring you out into that magical place you see through the window panes.  It will be great.