Calgon, take me away

This past week has been ridiculous in so many ways. Andy was away in North Carolina and I really really really don't like being in this house alone. My mom used to stay with me whenever he went away (which thankfully isn't often) but last time she said I snored (AS IF!) and she didn't sleep at all. Since my mom goes work when the rooster crows, I figure she needs here rest and I told her I'd be OK alone. But really I'm not.

I sleep with the light on. I sleep with the TV on. I sleep with toys stacked up in front of the backyard door from the playroom because the deadbolt is broken - and won't plastic keep the burglars away?

It poured this week and all Wednesday night the lights flickered. Great.

Last night the TV went out - and it freaked the ever-lovin out of me. I was convinced that someone cut the line - even though it would have made more sense to cut the phone line. Maybe they just wanted me to miss the last few minutes of Project Runway - burglars are mean. After calling Andy and being more frustrated with him than was necessary ("Come home and fix it!") - I finally turned the power strip on and off several times until the cable box rebooted. I'll never know how all those peacock feathers ended up on that dress.

Then, I get the GREAT idea that THIS will be the week I break my girls from the bottle! Because I don't have enough stress in my life. Yes, I meekly say, my girls are still on the bottle. I know, I know - they should have been off by 18 months, 12 months, 9 months, never have started one in the first place. But after my attempts at tandem nursing failed, I pumped. A lot. And I had to find a way to get those nutrients into my babies. From ages 2 months to 8 months they drank 4 ounces every two hours. Let's see ... 12 bottles, times two ... 24 bottles were being washed and dried EVERY DAY. (Many of you were there for that craziness - go on ... raise your hand ... be proud.)

Once they started on solids and really began to eat the bottles subsided little by little and now they only get three a day. I don't think I noticed or cared very much until this summer when I started tons of playdates that no one else's two-year-old drank from a bottle. Embarassment set in. I remember we were at a birthday party and all the sippy cups were being plopped on the table and I reached into our bag for the bottles - Andy looked at me wide-eyed and shook his head quickly. It was time.

That was 2 months ago.

My efforts this week have been so-so. The first day the girls thought the sippy cup was a great - "Isn't Mommy being cute giving us this new toy? Take a drink? Sure - just this once!" By day two it was "Umm .. didn't we do this yesterday? No - really - you had your fun." Days three and four I gave in (I knooooooow ...) and today it was outright screaming and flailing and banging and throwing. Everyone in a ten mile radius heard, "BA-BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

Andy came home tonight (yay!) and he knew the plan. He does the morning shift 99.9% of the time and the three of them have their routine down pat. I warned him about the threats I have been receiving in little crayon scribbles if I ever dare to give them a sippy cup again. He said he could handle it - and went to bed.

I am off to bed myself now. I'll let you know who won.

1 comment:

jkrodriguez said...

Now, now...Don't feel ashamed for those babies drinking out of a bottle at age two! I nursed my daughter (who turned two in March) until this past June. I had to stop because I am pregnant, but I tell you what, everytime I laid down, that girl thought she was going to be nursed. We have a saying in our family, as most do, ~This too shall pass! It seems like the hardest thing in the world for the longest time, but then all of a sudden it's over. Six months from now, you'll look back and say "Well...That wasn't SO hard..." and in a year or two, you propbably won't even remember. :) Good luck! I wish you the best!