Baby's a Kicking and Thanksgiving Update

Today is the first day that I felt the baby move A LOT. I felt a flutter the day before Thanksgiving and a few times after that (usually when I lie down to sleep) but it wasn't until today that the baby was really moving and shaking! It was so exciting. I even saw my tummy push out a bit which I was quite surprised by being that the baby is, according to thebump.com, the size of an onion. I even asked Trent where the baby was. He gently lifted my shirt a little bit and kissed my stomach. I think my heart melted. Things are definitely getting more and more real (as if the growing tummy wasn't enough)!

Now on to a quick update on our Thanksgiving....

All in all, it was good. I'm still trying to recover and Trent still is not napping well, if at all, (trying to nap last week with two screaming cousins, their mother who was usually screaming as well, 3 dogs, a buzzed husband, etc., was nearly impossible) but we lived through the first Thanksgiving that we hosted. Thankfully, my mother-in-law and I got along beautifully, the deep-fried turkey was fabulous, and my brother-in-laws last minute lobster was delectable.

Unfortunately, my stuffing was dry as who know what because it had to be cooked before my sister-in-law cooked her famous sweet potato soufflé which took well over the hour she claimed it would take so my poor stuffing had to sit on the counter for quite some time. I was given strict instructions to not open the oven door for fear that the soufflé would not rise properly so my stuffing suffered, as did my green bean casserole, which had to sit in the oven with the soufflé and cook twice the allotted time because again, I was not allowed to open the darn oven door!

What is a family get together without a little drama? Believe me, there was a bit of that to go around as well but I fear that some people would no longer talk to me if I detailed it all here :)

So, what did I learn from hosting our first holiday at our home? First, five days with some family members in what we were told is a "small house" in our little "po-dunk town" may be a little too long. Second, I am very thankful to my mother-in-law and pregnant sister-in-law who helped me so much in the kitchen both with cooking and cleaning after dinner because I thought my feet and back were going to break after standing for so long. Lastly, forgo the fancy soufflé in favor of the standard and fattening, yams smothered in brown sugar and marshmallows so that all dishes have a chance of surviving!

I am so thankful to have an insanely hard-working and loving husband, the cutest and most loving son and great family and friends who I love, quirks and all :)

Giving Dad's a Pat on the Back for Being a Dad?

I'm back....sorry it's been so long. I've been swamped with Thanksgiving preparations (which I'll blog about later) but I just heard something that I had to quickly write about right now!

I was just watching The View and Angie Harmon was a guest. She said the most interesting thing about fathers that got me thinking about many comments that have been made to me about Mark as a father. Angie was talking about how her husband, Jason Sehorn, would change their infant's diaper at night and then bring the baby to Angie to breastfeed. She went on to say how many people have told her that she is so lucky to have a husband that helps her out so much with their children and how her response to such comments is something to the effect of, "He's not helping me. He should do these things because they are his children too!" A lightbulb went off in my head as I heard that!

I too have had many people comment about how much Mark helps me out with Trent and how I am sooooo lucky. I am the first to admit, I am lucky to have Mark as a husband and father to my child (soon to be, children). He does "help out." But, I have to agree with Ms. Angie Harmon....Mark should help out with Trent...it is his child too!

Although I am appreciative that Mark tends to Trent, apparently more than other fathers do, I don't think that his giving Trent the occasional bath or changing the sporadic poopy diaper, earns him a merit badge! I love that Mark takes Trent on a "Man Trip" on the weekends (usually to Home Depot), just so the two can spend alone time together on the weekends and so that I can have an hour or two by myself, but Mark likes doing that stuff because he loves spending time with Trent. People have commented that he is such a good father for doing such things and I want to respond, "Is he supposed to be a bad father and do nothing with Trent?" Instead of congratulating Mark for being a good dad, I really want to say that I'm sorry to those woman who don't have a husband who wants to do such things or who doesn't feel like it is their job to help their wife raise their children.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I am lucky that Mark does things with Trent, but it is his son and he should want to do things with his son. He cannot wait to coach Trent on his t-ball or soccer teams. A father should want to spend time with his children. My father never missed my cheering at football games or a single dance recital, so I guess I expect that from Mark as well. However, as far as "helping" with a diaper change or calming a screaming Trent, that really isn't help, that is his child and his job too.

I don't get a pat on the back for the hundreds of diapers I've changed, so why should a man?!

I'm off my soapbox for the time being. I'll update about my Thanksgiving later!

Hey Old Lady...Mind Your Own Business!

I cannot believe that Thanksgiving is next week! Being that we are hosting Mark's family (that's 11 people) for five days, Mark and I decided to get a jump start on Thanksgiving preparations.

Thus, after Trent refused to take a nap yesterday (mistake numero uno), we decided to make a trek to Walmart (mistake numero dos) on Veteran's Day (mistake numero tres). Let me preface this story with the fact that we never go to Walmart and I mean NEVER! Yes, the patrons that frequent that store are thoroughly entertaining  and it is so much cheaper than the stores we have in town, it's just always so busy! Not to mention, I always mistakenly stand in the WIC checkout line (thinking, "Sweet, I scored because this line is so short), I start unloading my groceries on the conveyor belt, and then I have to wait like forty-five minutes behind a seventeen year old with two kids who are older than my own, as the checker ensures that each item is WIC approved.

Anyhow, because we have so many groceries to get for Thanksgiving, we decided to brave the crowd so that we could get all of the dry goods before the stores in town start running low. BIG mistake! HUGE! [But I] Had to go shopping now! (Movie trivia, anyone?) Bueller? Bueller?

Moving on...about thirty minutes into our trip, we were doing pretty good. I was checking items off my list and Trent was behaving himself. That is, until he saw a box of raisins. As soon as he saw that red carton, he flipped! He wanted those raisins and he wanted them now. I threw the carton in the cart but that wasn't good enough; he wanted to eat them immediately. Hating when parents allow their children to munch on items in stores that have yet to be purchased, I refused to hand them over to his grubby little mitts and that's when the meltdown really began. The tears....the flailing of limbs...the screaming at the top of his lungs. For the second time in the matter of weeks, we were "those people" in public. Embarrassed, Mark took Trent out of the cart and was going to carry him outside while I finished the shopping. As Mark was leading Trent away, who was screaming at the top of his lungs, the old lady next to me looked me straight in the eyes and said, "Why didn't you leave your child at home with a sitter if he was going to behave that way?" I was shocked. As if I wasn't embarrassed enough, she had to rub it in. I couldn't even answer her. I just pushed my cart away thinking to myself, "Yes, lady. I take my kid out of the house knowing that he is going to have a tantrum and I really enjoy when he does."

A few minutes later, Trent had calmed down and reappeared with Mark, both with smiles on their faces. That is, until Trent saw the carton of raisins again. AHHHHHH! Mark broke down and opened the carton for him. Trent then happily sat in the cart, munching on what you think would be gold. He was as happy as can be.

As we got in the checkout line, I was telling Mark about the rude comment the lady made to me. It was at this very moment that I looked to my left and the old bag was standing in the line next to me. As if on cue, Trent chucked a handful of raisins at her and laughed. Once again, we were embarrassed as we got down on our hands and knees and started collecting the raisins. She had the nerve to turn to me and very sweetly say, "I'm sure the employees will clean that up and he is soooooo cute." We ignored both comments.

Two things came out of this experience, (besides my wanting to chokehold an old lady).

First, I will never take Trent out to a busy public place without his having taken a nap.

Second, I think my husband has a newfound appreciation for how hard (and at times, embarrassing) it can be to deal with an eighteen month old in a public place who has a tantrum!

I have come to the conclusion that those people who roll their eyes at screaming children are either old and grumpy or do not have kids of their own (to the later group: beware...it could be you one day). To both sects, believe, me, parents don't want their children to misbehave, especially in public. It is embarrassing, trust me, and it is not a reflection of how the child acts all of the time. So, please refrain from making comments, smirks, and eye rolls. The next time that a parent in a store has to shop with a tantrum filled child, I will sympathize, smile at the parent and tell them that I know exactly how they feel!

My Child is a Nudist and he LOVES it!

I can't deny that Trent has always liked to be naked. He found his "wiener" (as we call it in my house) fairly early on while in the bath. I remember the first time he discovered his manhood. I called my parents and shrieked, "He's yanking on his junk like he's going to pull it off!" My father, always the comedian, calmly replied, "That's normal, Tianna. He'll probably have his hand on it for the rest of his life." I was appalled realizing that my dad was probably right!

Now that Trent's older, he's figured out how to take his clothes off and he does so any chance he gets. After he finagles his pants down, I inevitably hear the sound of his diaper being ripped off as well. After he is as naked as the day he was born, he always looks so proud of himself as he does a jig and then proceeds to run around the family room like he has the puppy crazies. You know what I'm talking about....when dogs run around like mad for a few minutes for no explicable reason. Well, that's what Trent does. He LOVES being naked. He'll sit down on the cold tile floor, boy parts resting on the ground, and not even flinch. He takes his clothes off in the backyard and waves to the cars as they pass by. I cannot keep clothes on this child!

I've been told that all of this is a sign that he is ready to potty train. So, when he removes his clothes, I follow him around with his frog potty and every time it looks like he is going to pee, I tell him to sit on the potty. He does as he's told, always with a smile, pushes with everything he has, and then he jumps up and runs around (he has not been successful yet). Without fail, the second I tire from chasing him around with the potty and sit down, he pees on the floor, claps and says, "Pee pee!"

He definitely knows what the potty is for and what he is supposed to do on it. Last week, he took his pants off and began grunting. Fearing that I was going to find a big turd on the ground like has happened in the past, I ran to the sound of the grunting. (Side note, one time Trent did poop on the bathroom floor and right on to a Tiffany necklace of mine that he found, making it appear as if our dog pooped on a dog chain but nope, it was Trent. It was one of those moments that I had to take a picture of in case I need to blackmail him when he becomes a mouthy teenager). Anyhow, I found Trent on his  frog potty pushing like he was being paid, only it was the one time that he had not removed his diaper. He did have a big poo in his diaper and he did his business while sitting on the toilet, so, I was proud nonetheless, especially considering that I haven't been pushing the potty training thing down his throat.

Apparently, my little brother Gabriel loved to run around naked too. I think it's cute but my husband is starting to think it's a bit excessive. My theory...let the kid run around in all his glory! Unless he grows up to live in a nudist colony (I'll keep my fingers crossed that this does not happen), when is he ever going to be able to get away with such behavior?!

So, I say.....Take it off and run, Trent, Run!!