"Not in the tooshy.."

I don't have any pictures of Thanksgiving yet to post for my faithful readers. Tay's been under the weather. Not to be gross but she needed a suppository yesterday and nasal drops a few days before that. She's just falling apart this week, poor kid. But this morning she woke up still sick and we had the following conversation:

Tay: I gotta stuffy nose.
Me: I know, so mommy needs to give you medicine.
Tay: No!!!
Me: But the medicine will make you feel better. Will you take some for mommy?
Tay: O.k. But not in my tooshy and not in my nose.

Love this kid.

Conversations With Tay

Tonight while giving Tay a bath, we had the following conversation.

Me: So DC's sister is baby Kate. Who is Taylor's sister going to be?
Tay: Curly Bear!
Me: Noooo, Corinne will be your sister.
Tay: No! Not Corinne. I want Curly Bear be my sister.
Me: What about Corinne?
Tay: I don't want Corinne. Tay Tay want Curly Bear.

When the baby comes home as a baby and not a muppet from Sesame Street, Taylor's going to have a melt down.

Poor Corinne

When I was pregnant with Taylor, I had her room set up 3 months in advance. I had everything out and ready to go. Clothes, furniture, you name it. I even had scrapbook pages made, just waiting for a picture to be added. Fast forward to this pregnancy, and not a darn thing is done. Not that I'm not excited. I can't wait to meet her! But being busy with Taylor and all that entails leaves me little to no time for decorating and planning. Not to mention we have property taxes that need to be paid, leaving me with the chance to be "creative" with our non existent budget for decorating. Gurr. Corinne's little room is bare. So I'm ganna try to get some things done this week. Even if it's just painting her room or washing her clothes, I have to do something! On a brighter note, a few gals at church offered to throw me a shower. I told them not to, seeing as how I have SO many girly things already but everyone still wants an excuse to party. So they actually made up invitations already and it's all set for the 18th of December. I really am thrilled. I want to celebrate this precious little one as much as we celebrated Tay. If Corinne looks back at her scrapbooks and sees that she didn't have as much of a welcome as Tay, she might get jealous. It aint easy being the younger sibling.

The man I love, the breadwinner of our home, and the father of my children is 29 today! Happy birthday to Wes! I had cinnamon rolls waiting for him this morning, and a huge card from Tay that she colored with a collage I made of the two of them. Tonight we're having his favorite dinner, and we get a night alone tomorrow when we send Tay packin' to Nana's. Love this guy.

I've had it.

So Taylor woke up this morning and said to herself, "I think I'm going to be a big P.I.A. today for my mom, because I was such a good girl yesterday." And hence the day began. She threw so many little tantrums this morning that I lost count. Over what, I still don't understand. Her friggin Disney dolls are always falling down while she's trying to get them to play ring around the rosies, and then she goes crazy on me. When it was time to go to the library she declared, "I don't wanna wear pants. Dora Jammies. Dora Jammies. WAAAAA." And thus began another tantrum. At the library, the Maternity Gods smiled on me again. As I bent down to pick up a book, I ripped a huge hole in the butt of my pants. The kind that you can HEAR rip. So we ever so carefully backed our way out to the car with what little pride I had left. We came home from the library to find our power out. Lovely. Tantrum number 5,052 began over not being able to watch "Max and Ruby" like I had promised. After that little episode, we played for a long time until it was definitely time for a nap.....I thought, anyway. She cried and kicked me in the stomach when I tried to put a diaper on her. So yes, faithful readers. She got a smack on the butt. They happen so few and far between, I promise, but I still feel awful. But then again, I work at the Jr. High twice a week with a generation of kids who were never spanked but who really could have benefited from it. So, no. I don't feel TOO bad. These days just pop up about once a week to remind me that she's two. Only 16 more years to go...... PS, the picture above made me laugh. She looks like Sara Palin.

Neighborhood Block Party

In our old condo we had pretty crumby neighbors with the exception of Don and Kerri Mitchell below us, who we still love and adore to this day. Directly across from our door, we had a male neighbor who was nice enough but just a little odd. He was a dentist's assistant from what we gathered, with a licence plate that read "ORALFIX" on his broken down car that sat parked in the same spot for years. He rarely said hello, and when we did get a glance inside his condo it was PACKED! Like the kind of clutter you'd see in an old lady's house. Below him was a woman I only ever referred to as "Crazy Lady," although I highly doubt that was her real name. Psy-cho! She was home for years on permanent disability, and walked around our complex with a bird on her shoulder. Her pot smoking daughter would occasionally stay with her, and I'd have to close the window to Tay's room for fear of her getting high off the fumes in her sleep. And my least favorite neighbors shared a bedroom wall with us. A group of boys that I referred to as the "Cal-Art Freaks", who would constantly let their dog crap on the grass . The dog even escaped once, only to find me taking Tay for a walk where he proceeded to hump my leg. I kid you not. They blasted their music till all hours of the night, and I repeatedly called the cops after failed attempts at pounding on their door. Oh! But the kicker was when they'd have female guests over, and I'd hear everything. EVERYTHING! And believe me, when you're sleep deprived after having a newborn, the very last thing you want to hear at 2 in the morning once you've gotten the baby to sleep are the sounds of college love on the other side of the wall. I have no shame. My postpartum temperament often lead me to bang on the walls screaming for them to, "Shut the he** up!" and some other choice words that I can't type for fear of offending my morally pure readers. Oh, the memories.

Now that we've moved on up like George and Weasey, we live on a wonderful street with very nice neighbors. Almost everyone has kids, and we let them all play outside together in the afternoon. We threw around the idea of having a Halloween block party, and it actually came to fruition. Almost everyone turned out for a BBQ, games and of course candy. We decorated the street and almost everyone dressed up. We met a lot of our neighbors who we probably wouldn't have met otherwise, and found out we have 4 pregnant women on our block and two police officers. Two things I was happy to find out. Grandpa Bob set up his awesome rubber band gun gallery, and Grandma Diane decorated the garage. Nana and Grandpa Bruce brought over yummy chili, and my nephew Logan came over to trick or treat with Tay. Halloween fun was had by all. It's nice to have good neighbors. The kind that you can have fun with and call on for help, or just hang out with in the street on a fun night like Halloween. Nana dressed up as Tay's favorite TV character "Loonette," from "The Big Comfy Couch" show.