Just clowning around!

Inspired by  AFV (America's Funniest Videos, of course), I am posting several videos of the kids hanging around.  While not nearly as funny as what lands on AFV, it is a sampling of all of the fun we're having around here.  A typical day includes dancing, singing, coloring, painting, and making a mess of everything we can get our hands on-- and I'm just talking about me here!

I wish I could claim that this song and dance was created to get Ashton to try a mango for the first time.  Anyone that knows Ashton, undoubtedly knows that he has no issue trying anything.  So this video is of us making eating a mango about as fun as going to Disney World.

We have had the hardest time getting Reagan to take steps, even when holding our hands.  She is smart enough to know that her crawling is much more effective mode of transportation.  Here she finally starts pushing Ashton's trike and walking a few steps.  Yay!

Another Chelsea classic: "(Insert your choice of food here), I'm going to eat you!"  Makes eating anything more entertaining.

  Dancing in the kitchen...

Painting while swiper is asleep.

Doing the pudding wiggle, Papa's trademarked move. 

Fashions by Ashton

A fashion forward pairing.

 

Stylish, yet sexy.

When all else fails, remember natural is all the rage.

"You don't have to be perfect to be a perfect parent."

I'm sitting in our bed with Jimmy asleep beside me, and I am doing the only thing that will give me solace. I scoured the nightstand for paper and a pen to write, but had little luck.  I need to write.  I'm dying inside...

I apologize for sounding dramatic, but we've reached our limit.  The two kids keep waking up over and over and over and over again throughout the night.  We have created monsters.  They are in their rooms for the duration of the night, but only once has either child slept through the night - ever.

We've decided to try the "crying it out" method with Reagan tonight.  She has made the most progress with her sleep habits and we hope this will be the last nudge she needs to start sleeping through the night.  However, as I sit here, my heart is heavy with guilt and my head races to find the wisdom passed on to me from friends, family, and previous reading.

When I am overcome with fear of failure as Reagan's cries get louder, I think of Turning Stones: My days and nights with children at risk by Marc Parent.  In the epilogue the author describes how children are created perfect.  It is our job as parents to not ruin what naturally arrives so pure and innocent.  Am I going to tarnish Reagan?  Will her captivating smile fade?  Will she feel less loved?  

"No kid has ever died from crying," a friend once told me in reference to her children.  Never researched this, but it is the only thing keeping me from busting down that door and scooping her up.  If she can't die, she'll make it, right?

"We only intervened when he sounded so hysterical that he was red and splotchy in the face."  Helpful, but I keep doubting my mother's intuition.  Is this particular wave of crying hysterical? Should I preempt the hysteria and give in to her cries?

"It is a tried and true method of sleep training," our sage-like friends told us tonight.  Ah, now this is something I can cling to.  It is true, people have allowed kids to cry it out for eons, so I can't possibly screw up Reagan otherwise every child would be screwed up... I'll ignore the local news that shows me that every person is actually screwed up...

Wait, she just stopped.  I hope she's alive, but she is quiet.  Maybe this worked...

My father once told me that parenting is hit or miss, because it is inevitable that you are going to make the wrong decision every now and again.  We all do.  What is most important isn't necessarily the outcome of your decision, but that you approached the situation with love.  "Did you do it with love and did you think it was the right thing to do?  Ask yourself that and you'll be a great mom," he said.

Ultimately, I know my dad is right.  Right and wrong isn't always crystal clear in the hundreds of little parenting decisions we make every day.  Tonight I am doing this with love, sweet Reagan, and hopefully you'll benefit in the end.

Little miss sneaky!

Someone dumped goldfish all over the basement carpet.  I swore it was Ashton, but he kept saying "Naynee did it," so it is unclear as to the true culprit.  Of course this means that I had to whip out the vacuum cleaner, corral the kids into the laundry room, shut the door (sorry CPS), and vacuum up the microscopic goldfish sprinkled around the toys.

After doing so, I released the kids, and went upstairs for a minute to dump the vacuumed bits into the kitchen trash.  I heard Reagan making her typical babble but she sounded rather close to be all the way down stairs...

Here is a video of Ashton and I helping Reagan practice her stair climbing this afternoon!

Sharing is Caring

These two spent 10 minutes sharing yogurt back and forth.  My parents witnessed via video phone and were shocked at Ashton's willingness to part with the Dora yogurt that he chose to eat with a serving spoon he secretly snatched.  Dangerous little ninja!

Visit to Day Care

Yesterday we took a quick trip to our former day care and it was as if we never left.  Ashton acts like the king of the castle and even has kids five times his age fighting to play with him.  I had forgotten what a tight knit family they are and how Ashton was an important piece of the puzzle.

Ashton with his favorite kid, Isiah

Reagan hanging out in the high chair with Haylie

Here is a video of Ashton on the swings with the kids.  They love making him laugh without regard to potential bodily harm.

Here is Isiah and Ashton playing basketball.  Isiah, who is 10, has adopted Ashton as a little brother and his caring heart is ever-present. 

Soliciting Suggestions...

Today we went for a "well-baby" visit to see how Ashton has grown over the last two years.  He is tall for his age and weighed in heavy, as he has done since birth.   I attribute his extra poundage to being a good eater, because there is no way it is from inactivity.  The kid is always running from here to there.  But generally, he is very much at pace for his age, which is always comforting for a parent.  As he grows, however, he challenges the advice gathered from the stacks of parenting books I read before he was born.

The first of these challenges is Ashton's desire to be a nudist.  These days, getting him dressed is like a wrestling match with a wild bull.  Now that we spend a majority of the time at home, I have found myself taking the easy way out and letting him be in the buff because it isn't worth the back pain that follows.  I can convince him to wear underwear about 50% of the time by telling him that "we don't want the neighbors to see your privates," but I know soon he will not care if these unknown "neighbors" (a word I'm not sure he fully understands) see his "privates" (a word he understands, but doesn't see what the big deal is about showing them).  I believe we are on a slippery slope to Naked Town.

An additional issue is Ashton's use of urine as a weapon.  He will urinate outside of the bathroom to get my full attention -- this is not an accident since he usually goes to the bathroom without notifying me anymore.  He has peed on our couch twice when I wouldn't give in to him and I know it was deliberate because he smiled an evil grin, which could only have been interpreted as "I win!"  In talking with my parents, they suggested ignoring the behavior because if he could get a rise out of me he did in fact win.  I admitted that the rise he received from me was epic... I was pissed, no pun intended, and made him sit in his wet clothes for an extended period of time to show him who was boss.  I don't know that I did the right thing and on behalf of our furniture and my loving husband, I need some advice...

New Beginnings

Just hanging around with Daddy

Jimmy started his new job two weeks ago.  He is working for Coastal International Security in their Future Leaders Internship Program (FLIP).  For the next 24 months he will split time between Coastal's corporate headquarters while working on a contract as a security supervisor in the greater Washington area.  Coastal employs about 3,000 people and will be in 40 states and over 20 countries by the end of 2011.  There are many opportunities for advancement.   Coastal is also investing in Jimmy by sending him to two classes at George Mason University, one about international security and another about contract management.  Since Jimmy is still going to school full time at Johns Hopkins University, he is sure to take a mental break come 2012!

If you ask him how things are going, you're probably going to hear that his training is boring, especially this week as he is taking a basic security officer training that pales in comparison to boot camp or the police academy.  But the purpose of his internship program is to train him in all areas of the company, so yes, even the most basic courses must be endured.  But don't let him fool you with his less than sunny appraisal, his direct supervisor is the Director of Operations who has already shown him full contracts and budgets, so he is getting a high level view of things too.

Another thing that has changed our lives dramatically is that this job has predictable hours.  He works 7:30 to 4:30, which means he is seeing me and the kiddos much more often.  As soon as he gets on to a contract, probably in the next month or so, he will be making enough money in 40 hours and won't have to do (stupid) overtime.  (Yeah, I hate overtime.  I hate part-time, which is an inter-industry term that police officers use to describe the armed security jobs they take to supplement their mediocre salaries.  It isn't that I hate extra work; I could better tolerate it if it was for extra spending cash and not a necessity to keep afloat.)

So we are optimistic about the future and look forward to new opportunities!

To infinity and beyond!!

Ashton's birthday party was a raging success.  We really appreciate all who came and made it so special.   This video is of Ashton practicing blowing out the candles a few hours before the party:

Everyone at the party agreed that they had never seen such an excited child over a cake.  Luckily we got it all on video!! (if you want to skip the chatter, advance the video to 1:35)

Birthday weekend pictures:

Stylish in Grammy's Uggs.

Papa and Grammy out to dinner with a mini bank robber.

Ashton was OVER THE MOON about the cake.  He kept forcing party guests to pick him up and show him his cake.  It was all he could talk about!

:

Ashton was so excited to blow out the candle and eat the cake!

Daddy with the assist.

It was everything it was cracked up to be.

Papa led with the opening of all of the presents.

Big Ashton and Grace feeding Reagan.

Party guests gathered for the present opening.

Sweet David and Matt (and Nicole's arm) as the gifts were being opened.

Not a perp.

I've been annoyed with people who use the adjective "terrible" to describe their two-year-old.  I think these little ones get a bad wrap because they experience everything in extremes and can quickly move from elated to angry in a split second.  I know that I am on the very cusp of experiencing a true two-year-old, but I have experienced countless outbursts that would rival any natural disaster.  So yeah, my kid will scream, throw his body on the floor, chuck anything in reach, hit, kick, and pout with the best of 'em.  We've become accustom to this behavior, but don't have to like it, right? 

And then there's Jimmy...

When I met Jimmy, I remember noticing that he had a very short temper with everyone but me.  (Awwh, how sweet...)  I think part of this comes from his personality type because he sees the world in black and white.  You are either wrong or right, and the wrong get punished.  I have seen his anger played out in various ride-alongs and it didn't end well for the ones in the wrong.  Since becoming a parent, Jimmy has mellowed considerably.  It has been endearing to watch him change not only toward our children but also toward the world.  Being a parent has made him a better person.

But Ashton is two and there are times when he can make even the most mellow person see red.

The other day, we had to leave to go to the store to buy supplies for Ashton's birthday. Ashton wanted to stay at the house.  Tantrum ensued.  Jimmy picked up Ashton kicking a screaming and you guessed it, got kicked square in the family jewels.  Jimmy released Ashton, overcome with pain and purple with anger, and said over and over "he is not a perp; he is my son.  He is not a perp; he is my son."  Jimmy was so mad that the only thing that spared Ashton was his DNA ...

I too have seen red and had to invoke the "he is not a perp" mantra.  Last night Ashton woke up a hundred and fifty two times, each time with a different stall tactic.  First it was "rub my back," then it was "sing to me," then it was "I have to pee-pee," then it was "I have to poop," then it was screaming and kicking and running around and UGH.  By the end of it, I was madder than a wet hen because with every outburst guess who would join in the fun?  So I had two kids screaming and crying pretty much all night last night, which was of course a very important night for us.  Jimmy started his new job and I wanted him to get a good night's sleep.  I probably should have wished for a bad night's sleep because the kids sixth sense would have made them do opposite.

After hours of fighting, both kids finally went to sleep.  As I crawled into bed, so enraged I couldn't close my eyes, Jimmy rolled over and pulled me to him saying "I'm sorry babe."  All I could quietly utter was "He's not a perp; he's not a perp..."

Sibling rivalry on steroids...

It was an ordinary Wednesday night. Jimmy was out playing 9-ball, and I was at home with the kiddos.  Bed time routine begins with "tubby time," which I like to make into a singing, splashing mess.  To cut down on the work, I bathe the two kids together which always provides entertainment.  Ashton likes to sort of swim and is constantly scooting Reagan from one side of the tub to the other saying "beep beep" as he commandeers all of the available real-estate.   

Splish splash nothing to report and then I hear the dreaded grunting.  Reagan is red-faced and right in the middle of soiling our bubble paradise.  I quickly pick her up mid-poop and scream "Ashton get out!  Reagan pooped!  POOP!!!" while running to her room to do a 5 second diaper change to catch the remaining debris.  I quickly return to the tub with Ashton sitting in the furthest corner from the mess and yank him out as quickly as possible setting him on the bathmat with Reagan.  This is not the first time we have had this experience, so although I am annoyed, it wasn't a huge deal. 

As I tried to drain the tub and replace the water, Ashton does something I had never considered.  As a direct assault on Reagan, he turns to her and throws up all over her, the bathmat, my foot, and his face.  WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!  So here I am with two poopy, vomit covered children, with poop conveniently in the one place that could be used to clean them.  Clearly, I was outnumbered. 

Parenthood requires a serious sense of humor...

The "O" Face

 Bottom line-- babies are hilarious.  Introducing the Cathcart "O" face! 

Reagan, January 3, 2011

Ashton, June 12, 2009

Here's a video of it too! 

z z z z z z z z...

It is embarrassing to admit this to the world, but I can't wait to come out... well, now that the problem is rectified...  You see, up until Saturday night we were co-sleepers. With both kids. I know what you're thinking, and frankly, I agree.  We are nuts.  I dedicate this blog to the Hebranks whose generous donation propelled us from co-sleepers to sleepers.

You see, co-sleeping is a misnomer, or at least it was in our house, because there isn't any sleeping that happens when you co-sleep.  Ashton will be two on the 13th of this month and I don't think he has ever slept through the night. When I see it written out, it seems ridiculous that it took us two years to get our kids out of our bed, but up until now it always seemed easier to keep them with us than endure the screaming and crying of their transition to independent sleeping.

This makes me feel like a horrible parent, but it started out innocently and became our crutch.  Before Ashton was born, we swore that he would never spend a moment in our bed.  When he was born having him in the room was easier than walking the dreaded 10 feet to his room.  In typical Chelsea fashion, I was too cheap to buy a bassinet because I knew it would be short-lived, so I let him sleep with us for the first couple of weeks.  Then, I put my foot down and told Jimmy that he was being evicted.  I would get him to sleep, put him in his crib, he would cry, and Jimmy would pick him up and put him in our bed.  See, it wasn't my fault!  Jimmy claimed that he was worried about SIDS and naively thought having him closer would somehow help, but I think he just liked snuggling with the little guy.  As time passed Ashton's newborn-like sleeping patterns continued.  Ashton isn't a bad kid, but we didn't know how to get him to sleep any other way, so we created our very own monster. 

Anyway, all of this changed this weekend when we were given this super cool "race car bed," as Ashton calls it, from Phil and Charlotte Hebrank.  We were able to use Ashton's natural, testosterone-driven love of anything with a motor to con him into sleeping in his own room.  Plus, my parents, I mean, Santa, gave Ashton glow in the dark stars, which we put right above his super cool bed to make his room even cooler.   Transitioning Reagan to her crib didn't require as much creativity, but did take a strong backbone and a lot of learning because our experience level is about the same as a women who delivered yesterday.

I won't continue on any further, but in summary, the kids are in their beds as I type!  Here are a few pictures of the kids at nap time today:

Reagan sleeping soundly

Ashton zooming off to dream land.