Mommy's Dictionary: Trouble

trou⋅ble [truhb-uhl]
verb, -bled, -bling, noun
–verb (used with object)

Definition:

Accepting Work

Todd? He is definitely a different child than his sister. Unlike Hayley, Todd LOVES the camera. And the camera loves Todd. In fact it's hard for me to get any "spontaneous" shots of Todd because the second he sees the camera lens, he starts posing and "flirting" with the camera. His favorite pose is the "open mouth" pose.

Here is Todd's modeling portfolio so far:

The picture Todd sent to Little Tykes in the hope of becoming the spokesbaby for their ball pit products.
The picture Todd sent to Gerber. He calls this the "If I eat one more bite of that delicious baby food I'll pop" shot.
The picture Todd sent in for the "Dracula Baby" movie audition.
Here's the picture Todd sent to Johnson and Johnson. This one he calls the "I'm clean, naked, and refreshed" shot.
Todd's hoping to pick up a St. Patrick's Day advertisement with this shot.
And then this morning, Todd knocked over his new ball popper toy only to discover that it created the perfect wind machine to blow his long, luscious locks. We'll definitely be adding these to the "sexy" section of his portfolio. He's thinking this "look" would be best suited to a baby cologne company or perhaps a diaper manufacturer.

Looking deep and seductive
And of course, the trademark "Open Mouth" pose

Todd's Paternity

Yes, I'm well aware that it definitely is not in question. But at last, I have proof that he is mine too. I mean, if he looks this good in blue and orange, he must be mine!

Feliz Navidad

We've had such a busy past few weeks preparing for Christmas, that I haven't had much time to blog. Hayley has been REALLY into Christmas songs though and I think a lot of her interest had to do with the Christmas program her preschool put on a week ago. This was the program that Hayley spent 75% of the program with her dress over her head. (It definitely deserves a spot at the front of my "Proudest Moments in Parenting" book.) Perhaps I've mentioned before... at the ripe age of two and a half, Hayley knows everything and you can't tell her any different. Hayley did a super job learning the words to Frosty the Snowman for her Christmas program, except this Frosty has two eyes made out of CORN. Not coal. Because Hayley says so.

Hayley also took a liking to the Christmas song Feliz Navidad. Her lyrics go like this:

Feliz Navidad
Feliz Navidad
Feliz Navidad
Prospero Ano y YUMMY TODD.

And then there has been Simon. I'll preface this by saying that Brian and I have never been ones for pretend, make believe, fairytales, etc. Even when we were children, we were both realists and couldn't buy into most of the fad books, movies and toys. We've both agreed that most likely neither of us would have had anything to do with Harry Potter or the new Twilight. I mean, come on... wizards and vampires?? Much too unrealistic. So I guess we were thinking that perhaps two realists would cancel each other out and our offspring would be a dreamer. Well, that philosophy is out the window now. After hearing all our friends rave about the behavior success they've had with the Elf on the Shelf, we bought the creepy little guy. The "Elf" comes with a storybook and the premise is that each night while the kids are sleeping the elf flies back to Santa at the North Pole and reports on each child's behavior. The hope is that children will be on their best behavior because they know the elf is watching. And I note, our friends have all had WILD success with the "Elf." But we should've known, a measly elf is no match for a Hurricane.

Shortly after Thanksgiving we placed our elf in Hayley's room and settled into bed to read the story. She immediately noticed the elf. She was pretty suspicious of the elf but listened to the story. When we got to the point in the book that explained how the elf would fly to Santa and report on her behavior, Hayley broke out into tears and kept yelling, "Take em, I don't want da elf." It took several days, but eventually Hayley became okay with the fact that "elf" was around and she even named him Simon. She was NOT intimidated by Simon however and despite our rules that she must not touch Simon or he'd lose his magic, I'm pretty sure she must have pulled Simon aside and let him know how things were gonna go. You see, Hayley was not the least concerned that Simon was going to actually give Santa a bad report. For awhile we chalked it up to short-term, two year old, memory. Last Sunday, we learned the real reason why she didn't feel the need to be on her best behavior around Simon. As we were getting Hayley ready for bed and saying our goodnights, Brian told Hayley to say goodnight to Simon. She looked at him, pointed at him, and said, "Simon... he just a toy." Ah, the magic of Christmas.

We're really not quite sure that Hayley even grasps the whole Santa concept yet. She does seem to understand that it is Baby Jesus' birthday and she thinks that last night's Christmas Eve service was his birthday party (which explains why she saw no need to be quiet... it's a celebration, right?) She was very happy to see her tricycle under the tree this morning and is adamant that it is not for Todd. And Todd seems very happy with his new race track. Simon must have told Santa good stuff!

Merry Christmas From The Roberts

The Roberts would like to wish all our blog readers a special Merry Christmas! (Yes, we probably need to find a hobby!)

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

And for Brian's kin, a special Merry Christmas!

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

Prison Break

Look who recently escaped from a North Pole prison!

There Should be a Warning Label on Fruit

Today, I earned the "Embarassed to Tears" badge for my Mommy vest. Seeing as how the birth of Todd coincided with Hayley turning two, I've been racking up badges at an alarming pace in the past nine months. Unfortunately for me, today's award ceremony took the cake. We were sitting in the chiropractor's waiting room (because with Todd's reflux I'm trying everything imaginable to reduce the number of "I Got Spit Up On" badges I receive each day). Hayley was sitting in the umbrella stroller, innocently playing with a puzzle, until... the bodily functions of a two year old took over. At first, I though a Blackhawk was landing on the roof (boy, wouldn't that have been a relief). Finally, the "helicopter" landed. And in case there was any doubt of what had just occurred, my little darling said, "eh-cuse me." Because otherwise she would be impolite. Of course I had Todd strapped to me in the Baby Bjorn so I was unable to crawl under the nearest chair. Despite that every person's eyes in the VERY crowded waiting room were practically bugging out of their heads, I pretended to play it cool, like I hadn't heard anything. Perhaps in about ten years I'll be able to unpack my dignity from the little box in my drawer where it's been stuffed for the past two and a half years.

Note to self: Apparently there is a downside to feeding your child a diet that consists of lots of raw fruits and vegetables.

So long phlegm

For what I hope to be an unfleeting moment, we are all well. Physically I mean. Mentally? Well, that would be asking for a little much. Hayley was the sickest I had ever seen her for several days, but by Thursday she seemed to be back to her usual, nap-skipping self. So we're back to the daily not so quiet, quiet time ritual. Lately, Hayley has been using quiet time as an opportunity to work on her singing skills. Friday I was serenaded with a top of her lungs concert consisting of Happy Birthday to You (because we had the "Christmas is Jesus' birthday discussion"), Twinkle, Twinkle, Old MacDonald, and Frosty the Snowman (because the girl has holiday spirit).

Lucky for me, while Hayley was sick Todd discovered the Christmas tree. So now I have a seven month old who is obsessed with pulling every ball off the lower half of the tree and I've also got a two year old who throws a fit if every ball is not on the lower half of the tree where "she" put it. If I hear Hayley scream, "Mommy, Todd broken the tree" one more time...

Speaking of Todd. I've been deeply troubled lately because for months now I've been wrestling with the prospect that my son may be choosing a lifestyle that I'm not entirely comfortable with. I'm afraid that I'm seeing increasing signs that Todd is... a nudist. For months I have been wrestling with this little boy over diaper changes. And it isn't the diaper removal that's the problem. It the re-diapering. It takes every ounce of physical strength that I have to get pants back on the boy and I'm going to have to start wearing ear plugs because I'm pretty sure that every dog in the neighborhood can hear him scream when he feels diaper up against his buns again. Just to set the record straight... he absolutely must have gotten this "preference" from his father's side of the family.

Condemned

Our residence that is. Because apparently it is unfit for "healthy" human existence. Unfortunately for us, it is the opposite of condemned for the lovely viruses that seem to have moved in and invited all their friends. I know I talked a good game, but I'm officially out of ammunition to use on those little terrorists that Hayley seems to repeatedly bring home from preschool.

An explanation? Somebody in this house has been sick since July. According to Chinese astrology, 2008 is "Year of the Rat." Apparently according to Roberts' astrology, 2008 is "Year of the Hack." In the last half of this year, Brian can attest to 2 sinus infections, shoulder surgery, and several assorted head colds. I can personally vouch for 1 case of tonsilitis (which included fever and required antibiotics... unheard of for me), numerous head colds, and a 3 week long coughing episode. Todd accounts for one phlegmy chest and goopy nose to boot. And our little germ vessel? Well, lets just say that her nose has been running non-stop since July. Her latest shenanigans caused us a trip to the pediatrician this morning which resulted in a negative flu test and dashed hope for a cure all antibiotic. In case you're wondering, all I really want for Christmas is for my house to be tented with Lysol.

And so once again I sit, drowning my worries in repeated glasses of Emergen C, cursing the immune system gods, and fighting off the "I have to run today" anxiety attacks that keep plaguing me. Oh yes, the thought of missed runs creates boat loads of stress for me, particularly now since I've committed to running the Sarasota Half Marathon in February. And although I must have been feverish and dilusional when I registered, I'm pretty sure delusions of grandeur isn't a defense to get my registration fee returned. It's okay, I'm secure enough in my cheapness to admit that it's pretty apparent that I'm a tight wad when it comes to money. I'd pretty much have to be on my death bed to walk away from the $65 registration fee. So I'm RUNNING. And I prefer to be well trained and not require CPR along the course route. And therefore, I'm getting really stressed about these constant illnesses! Wouldn't you know I end up with the kid that will eat anything she finds off the floor??!! I'm doomed!

I'm afraid the kids are starting to worry as well. I've secretly been catching them practicing their EMT skills. They must be worried they're gonna have to scoop Mommy up off the half marathon route.