One problem down

So we figured out how to get Clara to sleep with her light off - a nightlight that projects fish onto her ceiling. I want to kiss the person who came up with it.

It was just luck that I even found it. We were buying a microwave online and needed to add a couple small purchases to reach a certain limit in order to get a certain deal. It was right around the time I posted about her fear-of-the-dark-or-whatever-it-is problem (thank you for all your amazingly awesome advice, by the way!) and so I decided to get Clara a nightlight. And there it was. Completely cheesy and tacky and perfect. Or so I hoped.

Her first night with her fishies (and according to her, one of them is "Home Nemo") was her first night without her light on. And it's been that way ever since.

If you come to our home, you will inevitably be dragged into her room to see her fish. She's fascinated that they are only visible when the light is off. Ahh.. the beauty of the fishy nightlight! The lights must be off!

Tonight we did have a small crisis when the fishy nightlight went missing, and I wondered if she'd need her light on again or if, perhaps, she could now handle the dark. But I found it so we didn't have to find out. And there's really no need to. I'm good with her having her fishies on the ceiling all the way through college, if that's what she wants.

My other problem - the one concerning disciplining the two crazy toddler twins while I'm nursing - hasn't gone as well. We have lots of good days, but today was a reminder that when things get bad, they get real bad.

The thing is, there is no solution that works. LeapPads? They fight over them (even though they each have their own) and Luke wound up clunking Clara's head with his today. Coloring? Again, fighting over paper, stickers, crayons, you name it, and eventually hitting and/or biting ensues. TV? Well it turns them into crazed lunatics for the remainder of the day and is just not worth them being comatose while I'm nursing Essie. And they still find a way to fight while it's on.

They fight over special toys brought out only for nursing. They fight over new toys bought just for nursing. Reading is tough because they both want to sit on Essie and me. And Essie - who happens to be a perfect baby in every way, shape and form - has one thing she doesn't like, and that's being sat on or pushed while she's eating. I can't really say I blame her.

Today was a naughty spot (i.e. time out) day. You know those days. In our house, at least, it's usually all or nothing. And today it was all. Luke was in naughty spot continuously from the time he woke up from his nap until he went to bed. He got out of naughty spot over and over, he eventually was put in his room, he stripped naked in his room, I resorted to naughty spot being on my lap and he proceeded to head-bang my chest. Oh, man. I think I will hear, "Lukie's hitting me, Mama!" in my sleep.

So how do you put and keep a child in naughty spot while you're feeding a baby? I'm beginning to think Luke likes seeing me play this game of nursing and disclipining. I wouldn't put it past him.

And that leads me to another question that I pondered throughout the day: How on Earth does anyone play the naughty-spot game all day long AND clean their house? And by "clean their house" I don't mean actually clean their house. I mean the basics, like empty the dishwasher, sweep the floor, clear the kitchen table from lunch, pick up the couch cushions off the floor, fold clothes.

Okay, I shouldn't pretend that I would have actually folded clothes today if not for my poorly behaved children.

But seriously, I'm beginning to think I just don't get it. So please, let me know your tips. And please tell me it's hard to have two toddlers and a new baby (and ignore the fact that the baby is perfect... let's pretend she's a handful just for this) and keep up around your home.

And just because I feel bad I was a little down on my older two in this post, I'll leave you with this exchange...

Clara (after I briefly explained marriage to her, while watching the Bachelor [don't ask] [and, no, I didn't tell her that marriage is something that comes after you date thirty women and pick from the final two] [and, no, I don't actually let my kids watch that garbage]): I'm going to get married.

Me: You are? What boy are you going to marry?

Clara: Lukie.

Me: You want to be married to Lukie? Even though he bites you all the time? (It had been a biting sorta day)

Clara: He doesn't bite me all the time.

Me: I know. That's sweet, honey. But you can't marry your brother.

Clara: But I can marry him because he's a good brother.

My sweet babies. They really are great kids. And best friends. And partners in crime. Their relationship is like no other I've ever seen. They love each other with all their little hearts and forgive at the drop of a hat.

Now if I could just get them to sit quietly with their hands folded in their laps while I'm feeding their baby sister, we'll be all set.

Our little Catholic

 I'm long overdue in announcing that Esther was baptized!

She's wearing the bonnet I wore 36 years ago for my baptism.

Essie officially became a Catholic more than two weeks ago now. My sister, her Godmother, came all the way from New York for the baptism and we were so grateful she and her family made the trip.

It was held at our parish, where Clara was also baptized. But, as some of you may recall, Clara was nine-months old by the time she was allowed to receive the Sacrament.

Three years ago, our diocese required a birth certificate with our names on it in order for a baby to be baptized (if I remember correctly, the names on the birth certificate needed to be the same parents who were presenting her for baptism). Well, with an adoption, you typically don't get a birth certificate with the adoptive parents' names on it until everything is finalized. And, in our case, finalization wasn't going to happen until she was 14-months old. That was way too long to wait for her to be baptized, in our opinion.

So I argued our case with the diocese and won.

Well..... in reality, I made a call, told a priest (who worked for the diocese) our story over the phone, and he called me back with news that the baptism could go forward. Much less dramatic than I could make it sound! But that paved the way for Essie to be baptized as soon as we wanted this time around.

Oh, the chrism. I always hear women rave about the smell of it, so I always felt like I needed to too, in order to be a good Catholic. But, honestly, I didn't see what all the fuss was about. Until now. Our priest slathered so much on, and she has so much hair, that the scent was very strong. Too strong for me. But as the days passed, the smell grew more subtle and I realized what the attraction was. I got used to it. I bathed her but didn't wash her hair. And then the other day, I gave in and washed it, and to my surprise, it still smells like chrism. I think my lack of washing it sooner might have made permanently changed the scent of her scalp. And I can live with that.

Can I just add that looking at these pictures, I forget that I didn't just give birth? I look like a woman who just had a baby, except that my pregnancy weight was gained on our road trip over a period of a couple weeks rather than nine months. And unfortunately, breast feeding isn't helping to melt it off like last time around.

Self-deprication aside, our first photo as a family of five brings me great joy.

And this cake brought me a lot of joy. Probably too much!

'God bless Esther' is right. Welcome to the Church, baby girl!

Because I can't think right now...

I have a million posts swirling around in my head. A lot has happened lately and I haven't really reflected much on it. You add a baby to the family and you are just trying to survive for a while, but what a life-changing ride we've been on lately. I really need to stop and ponder it. And my version of pondering something is writing about it here, so I better get on that.

But for now, because I feel like I've been going-going-going (every kid has been sick and now illness seems to be working its way through the line-up a second time) and I need to crash on the couch with Essie for thirty minutes before her big sister and brother wake up from their naps, I will just wish you a happy Valentine's Day and share some shots from this week. Hope you're having a great day!

Busy and crazy (advice needed)

Things are really great around here, but busy. I am so behind - with housework, with thank-you cards, with Christmas-present buying. 

My days are spent nursing Essie and disciplining Clara and Luke. 

Just a snapshot of our daily life - kids lying around peacefully on blankets. (That's scarcastic, in case you can't tell.)

And, it seems, that those two things go hand-in-hand - the older two are at their worst when I'm feeding Essie. They fight, help themselves to items in the freezer, climb on the coffee table, jump off the coffee table, you name it. I've let it go on too long (of course, I yell but it's as if no sound is coming from my mouth) and I still don't see a solution. Right now I use the TV, but I know they are just that much crazier when it's on. Well, not right at the moment that it's on - they're awesomely subdued and not wrestling each other or the furniture when it's on - but the rest of the day. It's just becoming too much of a crutch for me.

I just can't figure out what else to have them do. They won't play in their rooms, coloring is not an option due their inability to maturely handle crayons (they [i.e. Luke] either throw them, color on everything but paper or lodge them in ears), and they're completely not into their toys when I'm nursing.

I welcome any advice.

Another problem I need your help with (because you all have a pretty good track record of solving my parenting conundrums) is Clara's fear of the dark. She's never actually told me she's afraid of the dark, but she won't sleep without a light on so I have drawn my own conclusion. And by light, I mean lamp. We tried Christmas lights for a while, which worked, but they were pretty bright and ended up dying anyway. She used to be okay with one of those stuffed animals that shined lights on the ceiling, but we are way past that at this point.

We also used to sneak in and turn her light off after she fell asleep, but she is on to us now. At first she'd just wake up and turn it back on herself. But now her lamp is too high for her to reach so she just screams for us and wakes the house up. 

Someone out there must have dealt with this, right? Should I just let her scream for a few nights? 

Could you say "lights out" to this face???

It's not all problematic, though. They are sooooo sweet lately. Clara helps with Essie a lot. Her primary job is to turn the music back on when Essie's in her little seat and it cycles off.

She's also talking up a storm lately, saying so many more things, talking so quickly, so animated. One day, a couple weeks ago, it was like a switch flipped on and her language - and volume - exploded. She's always been a talker, but it was like she'd had caffeine! She's also her brother's keeper - she lets me know when he needs to go to naughty spot, or the doctor, or to bed. 

We believe in clearly-defined gender roles in our house. Except for Luke's pink bed sheets.

Luke is silly, as always. My favorite story about Luke, which I think totally encapsulates his little personality, happened when he was shopping with me one day. As I'm browsing the fabric in a quilting store, he starts excitedly telling me, "Mommy! It's Philip Phillips! It's Philip Phillips!"(yes, my son is well acquainted with the reigning American Idol). I'm thinking he's talking about a song playing in the store (because he can pick out his favorite PP song with one note, and I'm not kidding), but no. He was having (what he thought was) his first celebrity sighting.

And tell me you don't see the resemblance.

That's my two-year-old for ya (and you can judge our musical tastes all you want. "Home" is one darn good song).

Oh, and the best news of the week thus far... Essie had her six-week check-up today and she is now eight pounds! That's two pounds in a month! Esther can really eat. She fits in great with me.

This is from last week. Her cheeks are a half-pound chubbier by now.

Ryan is now home from work and we are going to irresponsibly watch some television instead of sleeping and will regret it in the morning. We never learn.

Oh, and I didn't win, but this blog was nominated in two categories - Most Inspirational Blog and Best Mommy Blog - in the Sheenazing Blogger Awards hosted by A Knotted Life.

Mommy Blogger?! To think this Catholic infertility blog is now considered a Mommy Blog is a little mind-blowing for me.

I know, I know. I have three kids. Clearly this became a Mommy Blog a while ago. But I'll never get used to that, in a good way.