Showing posts with label Crying. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Crying. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Tonight Stunk


It began stinking around 4:30pm and got stinkyer and stinkyer right on up to the girls bedtime of 7pm.  I'm not sure what happened.  I can tell you, that it began with Miss Marlo.  She was awesome all day and then, and then, I just don't know what happened.  Down hill fast I tell ya.  Midway through dinner, Sabine joined in the fussiness parade which escalated to full on freak out quite quickly.  The time now is 8:34pm and thank heavens, I can almost laugh about it all.

The hardest part about the two baby meltdown is that my arms just aren't long enough.  I'm not so coordinated to successfully have both girls on my lap with an arm around each and be able to pat them in a soothing manner at the same time.  My patting rhythm gets all thrown off and wonky and then before I know it my left hands quits while my right hand keeps on going.  Then I feel awful.  Does my subconscious mind love one girl over the other so that it messes with my hand patting rhythm?  Could this be?  Golly I hope not.  While one girl was doing her best to snuggle into my chest as she sat on my lap, the other was trying to climb me while resting her head on my shoulder, I will not name names as to which was which, for fear of future blame upon my mothering ways from the girls.  And my glider, which was such a treasure during Hugo's infancy right on up to the point where my pregnant belly would no longer allow room on my lap for his skinny person, is of no use anymore.  1 Momma + 2 Girls + a book = no room on a glider rocking chair.  So sad.

In the meantime, Hugo was pestering me with questions a mile a minute.  Usually, I pride myself on my ability to keep up with his never ending stream on questions mixed with nonsense, but tonight I was bordering on zero.  Tapped out.  So, I think I muttered something about his possibly not talking for, like forever.  No!  Really it wasn't that bad.  Maybe I asked him to not talk for at least 30 minutes.  No!  Just kidding!  It did boil down to his realizing I was a fried Momma and then he started talking about how it's really hard having two baby sisters.  How sometimes he wishes that Heavenly Father only sent us one girl.  This woke me up.  I told Hugo as simply as possible, that no matter how hard two babies can be at times, I would never, ever wish for one of our girls to not be here.  Hugo said, "Mom, when you get the wood and I play with the girls, it's really hard when one baby goes up the stairs and the other baby goes down the stairs!"  I told him that I agreed. 

Ending on a positive note, the girlies are saying Momma.  Well, babyish versions of Momma.





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Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Yesterday

Marlo and Sabine were delightful in the morning.

We began our tummy time with smiles and sweet coos.
We practiced rolling back and forth.

Then the crying began. I tried to stuff her in the Bumbo to see if a different point of view might be interesting enough to sidetrack the crying. She was not thrilled or motivated in the slightest to stop crying.

Sabine was in a fine mood today.
She smiled and talked all day long.
She just wouldn't smile for my camera.

Here she is all excited to talk.
I left a message for the Early Intervention people today.
They have a free evaluation clinic on the 30th.

p.s. Marlo rolled over for Cesar on Monday!

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Tough Times

This is what has been going on in our house since Sunday afternoon. We may have to rethink our Sunday activities. I have been missing Church. I miss my calling. I miss seeing good friends. We were advised to avoid the market, malls and places of worship for the health of the girls until April. April. April is a long, long way away I've discovered. Well, Hugo's birthday is in April and he keeps telling me that his birthday is tomorrow. I suppose that by the time his birthday does arrive, I will feel like it appeared all tomorrow like! Note to self- I better start planning his party now or it might not happen.... Hugo has also been telling us that on his birthday he will turn 8. Where the #8 came from, I'm really not sure. We did attend all three hours of church the past two Sundays and both of the Sunday afternoons along with the following Monday found Miss Marlo in a rotten, rotten, clingy mood. I'm not sure if it's a coincidence that it began on a Sunday after church with her schedule being thrown off or what. She's sensitive ya know, our Little Misunderstood.