Results May Vary

Historically, I’ve been one of those people who holds high expectations for things. Parties, family gatherings, weekends away, gifts. But in my advanced age, I’ve learned to tone it down a bit. Because more times than not, I would end up disappointed when something didn’t turn out as expected — especially when it was left up to someone else. It’s just too much to ask of other people to do what I would have done when I can be an insanely detail-oriented over achiever. Not everyone’s like that.

(Except when it comes to birthday gifts from my husband. For whatever reason, I still hold him to a standard that’s probably too high. Maybe it’s because we’ve been together for 13 years and I just expect him to know what I want for my birthday when I give him a really vague answer about how I want something that’s special, and personal to me, not something for the house. I mean, don’t we ALL expect our husbands to read our minds and do something fabulous and extravagant, even when we tell them not to because we can’t afford it or we don’t need it? WHEN WE SAY THIS, IT MEANS DO IT ANYWAY.)

Sometimes you have to roll with the punches. When life throws you a curveball make the best of a bad situation (incidentally, do you know how many books and self-help related Web sites there are devoted to this topic? Apparently I am not the only one grappling with this issue.). When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. I mean, the glass is half full, right? Work with what you’ve got. Love the one you’re with. How many more clichés can I throw in here. The point is, I’ve learned to be more flexible. Mostly because I hate being disappointed. So rather than be disappointed, just lower your expectations!

I swear, I did not have inflated expectations for our family vacation. In fact, I knew it was going to be really, really hard with a four-month-old who still takes 2-3 naps a day, and a “spirited” toddler. That’s why we brought B — a college student who my husband used to coach when she was in high school.

But even with B along to help, I’m still not sure I had fun. I mean, it was fun-ish. There were moments of fun.

I expected a normal amount of temper tantrums. I just didn’t expect to see my normally good-natured two-year-old turn into the temper tantrum monster and have a hysterical meltdown for more than 25 minutes because Husband took away a bar of soap. Like the most hysterical meltdown I’ve ever seen in my life. Like, she became possessed by a demon. After denying repeated offers to help her calm down, we put her back in her room (at 10 a.m.) and she fell asleep after another hysterical 25 minutes and slept for an hour. And when she woke up she was just the happiest lil’ camper around.

How Monkey fell asleep after being relegated to her room following her hysterical meltdown.

I also expected a certain amount of disruption to their daily schedule — either because we were disrupting their schedule with too many activities, or because the surroundings were unfamiliar. But I wasn’t expecting Bean to go from two-hour naps to 30 minutes, and I wasn’t expecting Monkey to refuse to nap altogether. Plus, that’s why we brought the lovey, and the blanket, and the stuffed animals, and the fish tank soother, and the sticker chart — made especially for Door County!

Why didn’t my girlfriends warn me about this? Something along the lines of, “You know, it’s really not a great idea to go away for seven days when the kids are that little. How about a couple of daytrips, intermixed with a couple of days at home, so their schedules don’t get completely messed up.” Why didn’t they say that?? SO PEOPLE. THAT IS WHAT I AM TELLING YOU. GO ON A FEW DAYTRIPS. SAVE YOUR MONEY.

After the fact, my friends were full of advice. After we were already on the trip and had spent all the money.

According to my mom, our vacation was “About as much fun as you’re going to have with two kids that young.” Hello? Mom? Why didn’t you tell me that BEFORE?

My BFF said, “ Yeah, after you left me that voicemail (wherein you berated me for not giving you a heads up) I do remember A turning into a horrible monster.”

Apparently, according to another friend, I am going to forget all of the horrible things and only remember how much FUN we had. I just have to wait a couple of years.

Honestly, I’m not even sure why I was constantly losing my cool. Especially because last year when we went on a family vacation with just Monkey, and I was four months pregnant, I was the one telling my husband to “Relax! This is what kids her age do!” It was a total role reversal this time. He was the calm one telling me to relax.

I hope this is what I will forget:

Our day at the beach. Okay, I admit it. This is the one thing I had high expectations for. Last year we discovered the best beach in Door County, Whitefish Dunes State Park, on the last day of our trip. I was so disappointed that we didn’t find it earlier, so I spent the past year dreaming about how we would go back to this beach on a beautiful warm summer day and enjoy its pristine white sand, rock-free beach, with sand bars that allow you to walk 100 feet into the water.

Image in my head: We would spend the whole day at the beach with the fancy $1 beach chairs that I scored at a rummage sale, our gigantic outdoor blanket, the sun dome for the baby, our rolling cooler, the noodles, the sand toys, the beach towels, etc., etc., etc.

Before this vacation, Bean would fall asleep anywhere, anytime. She would just put herself right to sleep. “She can just nap at the beach,” I thought. “We’ll lay her down right there in the sun hut. Maybe we can even get Monkey to take her nap in there so we can spend the whole day at the beach.”

HELLO? WAS I TEMPORARILY INSANE?

Reality: The day we picked to go to the beach, after watching the weather forecast ALL WEEK, turned out to be 62 degrees and overcast. It was supposed to be 72 and partly cloudy. To me, partly cloudy also means partly sunny. Not so much.

The other people on the beach, were dressed in LONG PANTS, and SWEATSHIRTS. Meanwhile, here we are. In swimming suits. Oh yeah. Got our beach towels. We’re all laid out like it’s 95 degrees and sunny. I’ve got my icy cold beverages in this here rolling cooler. I’ve got my snacks. We’re all set. I felt like I should proclaim extra loudly so everyone could hear, “Husband, aren’t you glad we decided to vacation here? Isn’t this beach nice? It’s so warm in Wisconsin COMPARED TO ALASKA WHERE WE’RE FROM.”

Our wagon train of provisions at the beach.

So the weather was our first strike.

Our second strike was that we brought a baby to a beach. The baby who formerly would fall asleep anywhere, anytime, but turned into Miss Curiosity when she turned four months old and suddenly WOULD NOT fall asleep anywhere, anytime. Quite the contrary. On our trip she became so over stimulated in public places that she would fight sleep and only succumb after ridiculously embarrassing episodes of loud crying and massive freak outs, followed by more ridiculously embarrassing episodes of shushing, rocking and jiggling. And then she only slept for 30 minutes.

Plus we had a baby. On a beach. It’s kind of like that line in Sweet Home Alabama – “You have a baby! In a bar.” Who brings a baby to a beach? Especially a four-month-old who can’t even sit up on her own yet. We were at the beach for all of 90 minutes when the massive freak out occurred. No amount of shushing, rocking or cajoling was going to convince Bean to stop crying. Plus Monkey was starting to complain that she was cold. I DON’T KNOW WHY.

I think everyone was happy to see the crazy Alaskans with their freaking out baby and wagon train of provisions leave.

These are the things I hope I’ll remember:

Explaining to Monkey the difference between peeing in a lake and peeing in a pool. Don’t worry, I draw the line at pooping in the lake (yes, and the pool!!)

Speaking of poop (don’t all parents?), the heavily-dyed blue moon ice cream will turn your kid’s poop green. Or maybe it was the mint chocolate chip.

After said child takes a green poop, for the second day, she may proclaim: “Now I’m gonna poop a purple one.”

The go-kart track where I couldn’t beat Husband OR B. I am telling you, their karts were faster than mine.

Our hike along the water in Peninsula State Park. It was beautiful, and relaxing. And on the way back, Husband had the best one-liner of the trip. After asking him repeatedly NOT to carry Bean in the front pack with Monkey on his shoulders, he said, “Why not? I’m as sure-footed as a mountain goat.”

In fact, our whole day in Fish Creek where we enjoyed a leisurely walk around the town and I got to visit my favorite chocolate shop. Hands down, best day of the trip.

The awesome date night I got to have with my hubby at the outdoor theater while B stayed back with the sleeping kids.

Okay, I guess I did have fun. Just in small, bipolar-infused chunks. Still, I think we’re going to take a break for a few years and just do a couple of daytrips next time. Probably until next year, when I forget all this sh*t and remember, “It wasn’t THAT bad.”

So what about you? Have you taken a vacation with little kids that, in hindsight, probably wasn’t a great idea?

Monkey See, Monkey Do

If you’ve ever wondered what your parenting style is like, just watch your older child interact with one of their “babies.” I have heard Monkey say all of the following about one of her babies:

“The baby’s awake again.” (insert huge sigh)

“What’s the problem?”

“The baby’s not eating.”

Monkey has a heart of gold. I just have to put that out here now, before my next post about our vacation — the vacation in which I’m still not sure I had fun. Well, I did have fun. At times. It was just … difficult.

So anyway, I know I get on here and rant sometimes about how difficult (in a funny way) life is with a “spirited” toddler. But honestly, what kid isn’t “spirited” on some days. Some kids, like Monkey, are just a little more moved by the spirit than others. But she really does have a heart of gold. And I’m seeing her grow out of what’s left of the Terrible Twos. She’s already grown up a lot, even in the last three months. She’s able to entertain herself longer and she no longer needs constant attention — things that weren’t possible just a few months ago. She’s even acting out less for attention when we’re focused on Bean.

Case in point — Bean took up my WHOLE morning the other day. Literally, the entire morning. This kid, who for the last three months of her life has taken two 2-2.5-hour naps in the morning and afternoon, has been sleeping in short spurts for the last three weeks. It all started when we stopped swaddling her. Being the gigantic, freakishly strong baby that she is, she kept busting out like the Incredible Hulk within two minutes of being swaddled. Like most babies, Bean wakes up after 30-45 minutes of her nap. When she was still swaddled, we would hear her wake up, talk to herself, and generally we wouldn’t even have to go in the room. She would fall back to sleep on her own. Now that she’s swaddle-less and can wave her arms and legs all around like an octopus and can roll over with the prowess of a bowling ball, she hasn’t been able to fall back to sleep by herself.

We’re still trying to figure out how to get her to go back to sleep. Sometimes catching her before she’s fully awake and giving her the nuk works, other times we have to hold her arms and legs down and do the “shushing” sound, and if that doesn’t work we have to pick up her and do the “shushing” while rocking, swaying and jiggling. Well, on this particular day, NONE of that was working. Bean would sleep for 30 minutes, I would hear her stir and run in to give her the nuk (repeat 3-4 times). Then I would try to hold her arms and legs down (repeat 1-2 times). By this time she was crying, so I would pick her up and be doing the sway, rock, jiggle, shush. It wasn’t working. But there with me, every time, was Monkey, silently mimicking my movements. OH. MY GOSH. How freaking hysterical. Monkey desperately wanted to go outside with me, which is something we do when Bean naps. And instead of throwing a huge fit every single freaking time I went back into the bedroom, there she was, rocking, swaying and shushing her baby with me.

Monkey See, Monkey Do (this video won’t open in a new window, so be sure to hit the “back” button)

(Incidentally, this video is NOT from the other morning. I’m quite sure her massive spill, in typical Monkey fashion, would have dashed any hopes of getting Bean back to sleep had I actually been trying. Oh Lord, I have never seen a clumsier kid.)

I hope Bean is just going through a phase. I hope it’s teething, or possibly that she’s not used to being swaddled anymore. Or maybe it’s just how she is as a four-month-old and in a few more weeks she’ll be back to the easy going, laid back, super-sleeper self that I adore. Because we are JUST starting to get Monkey, the child who I constantly am conditioning to be a good sleeper, back into a good naptime and nighttime routine. For like the 387^th time. And I JUST DON’T WANT TO BE THE SLEEP POLICE ANYMORE! Plus, I’m afraid if Bean keeps this up, pretty soon I’m going to hear Monkey say:

“Why won’t you go to sleep!”

“You are making me so frustrated!”

“I don’t understand!”

#&%#@%#! (Oh wait. She already said that. WHOOPS!)

The Sisterhood

I’m not gonna lie. I’ve always been a little jealous of women who have sisters. That doesn’t mean I don’t love my AWESOME brother!! Because I really, really, really do and I’m so glad to have a brother. It’s just that I wanted to keep my brother AND have a second sibling of the female variety. Unfortunately my parents weren’t game.

For a girl, sisterhood just always seemed so magical — a built-in best friend, someone to share clothes with, someone who was required to be there to talk to you about all the girl stuff! When you have a sister, you have an automatic maid of honor, a Godmother for your children, a person to call when life sucks. And then there are all the picture frames, wall hangings and poems touting the virtues and benefits of having a sister. JEALOUS! I’m sure boys feel similarly about having a brother. In fact, I bet my brother wishes he had a brother (in addition to my fantastic self).

Last fall when we found out Bean was a girl, I was ecstatic. While I would have been so happy to have a boy, especially for my husband, I was overjoyed knowing that Monkey and Bean always would share a special sister bond. For the entire Christmas season I had the “Sisters” song from White Christmas running through my head. I was just tickled that Monkey was going to have a sister, and that the two of them would be able to experience the things I imagined I missed out on. Plus, now when I see the “Sisters” picture frames, “Sisters” T-shirts, and “Sisters” wall hangings, I have a reason to buy them; much to the detriment of my bank account.

Monkey is becoming so interested in what Bean is doing. When she wakes up in the morning, the first thing she does is look for her sister. When Bean’s already awake, she exclaims, “My sister’s awake!” When she doesn’t know where Bean is, she says, “Where’s my sister?” She informs us when Bean spits up, when she thinks Bean’s tired, and when she thinks Bean’s pooped. She rubs Bean’s head and strokes her cheek. And she’s become obsessed with her baby dolls, changing them, feeding them, and carrying them around wherever she goes. And have I mentioned that all her baby dolls are named Bean? She’s even started talking to Bean like we do — in that high-pitched, sing songy voice that parents use. She kisses her and hugs her, is upset when she cries or thinks she’s hurt, and doesn’t want to go to Nana’s house without her. The other night Monkey pressed her face forehead-to-forehead and nose-to-nose with Bean. OMG, my heart melted! I do that all the time with the girls!! Bean reciprocates by watching Monkey’s every move. She stares, and stares and stares. She watches Monkey run back and forth, back and forth between her toys, her head following Monkey all around the room. She scoots in circles when she’s lying on the floor to watch where Monkey goes, and cranes her neck to keep her in sight. She’s taking it all in.

I think having two girls actually might be God’s way of giving me a peek at what sisterhood is all about. Watching Monkey and Bean’s bond unfold before me is amazing. I’m watching it grow every day. And I imagine them in five years, 10 years, 15 years. I picture them standing up in each other’s weddings, talking on the phone for hours during college, sharing clothes and makeup in high school, playing together and teaching each other things. And believe me, I know there’s going to be tons of drama, fighting and tears that go along with all the stages. But I’m choosing to ignore that right now. Right now, I’m more than content watching the development of a beautiful best friendship.

While I don’t have a sister, I do have to give a huge thanks to the two girls who have been my “sisters” since second grade, and my cousin who’s only nine months older than me and always has been like a sister. Love you girls. And I am blessed to have inherited two wonderful sisters-in-law who compliment the many brothers in my husband’s and my life.