Pumpkin Patchin'

Last weekend we took Roscoe to a pumpkin farm complete with rides, a live band, a choo-choo train, animals and lots of pumpkins.  It was so fun to watch his excitement as he took it all in.  He doesn't get giddy with excitement, but rather gets a half-smile as he looks around and around soaking it up.  Basi, Diwa, Tito Drew, Lolo and Lala joined us for a little while.  Ray got some great photos and I got a couple short videos of his rockin' dance moves (you'll see where he gets them from, too):

Manic Monday (and Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday...)

Manic is the only way to describe it...  the only reason I am writing this now is because I realized I left an important file at work that I need to complete a deadline.  Today.  Before we leave for a wedding at 4:30pm. So, instead of complete panic I decided to take a deep breath, write and then hope a solution comes to me...

Let me qualify this by saying that I think in normal circumstances this would just be considered "busy," but add in that I am huge and pregnant and tire easily and having blood sugar issues so I get weak and nauseous if I don't eat and drink almost constantly throughout the day and well, things start feeling manic pretty quickly.  Plus, I don't sleep much when I am pregnant.  And if I "push" myself I pay for it for at least a couple of days.  Even doing my prenatal yoga makes my joints and pelvis and back throb and makes it hard for me to walk or sleep for a couple of days.  I feel like it is still important to keep active and mobile so I do it anyway, but man oh man.  With Roscoe I had bizarro sharp pains that were torturous (ugh, the thought of those pinched nerves still makes me cringe), but I did not feel like I got beat with a baseball bat everyday starting in the second trimester.  Either I am a massive wuss or pregnancy really takes a toll on my body.  

And here is a glimpse: 

Monday: wake Roscoe early and get us both ready for the day, drop Ray off at airport, come home and find the nanny waiting outside our door.  Get Roscoe set up and say good bye (heart breaking) and head to work in ridiculous traffic.  Get to work late and rush, rush, rush all day putting out fire drills and cleaning up messes (I just had to fire someone and hire/train someone new, so there are extra messes these days).  Rush out of work to get home in time to relieve the nanny and try and speed walk (hahaha) to my car while eating a granola so I don't pass out on the way home.  Get home, face a son who wants me to pay for leaving him all day by being extra difficult and impossible to please.  Cook, clean, feed, eat, clean, change (wrestle) him, read, calm, sing, pat, cry (generally just him, but sometimes I join in).  Look at piles of laundry to be folded and toys everywhere and bills to be paid and decide to deal with it all in the morning.

Tuesday:  my "day off" (bwahahaha).  Wake up, wrestle son, cook, clean, eat, feed, clean, wipe, bathe, entertain, wrestle, buckle, grocery shop, wrestle, unpack car, wrestle, cook, eat, feed, clean... yeah, this could go on all day (it does.)

On top of the normal mania, we have been entertaining people at our house a few days a week (some planned, many "surprise" visits), babysitting cousins, Ray has been travelling for work, Ray's company was bought by some international company and there is all this "transition" going on there, we had friends visiting from Chicago (hi, Ant & Frank!), Ray installed an exhaust hood above the stove (there was none), Ray joined a football league, I decided to transition all of our money/direct deposits/auto debits from one bank to another (the fees were killing me), midwife appointment, visiting newborn cousin, etc.  And that was just last week.  Don't even get me started on the week to come!  

"That old mare just ain't what she used to be, ain't what she used to be..."  (My brothers are probably the only two that will appreciate that old Sesame Street (?) reference, but 'tis true.  This old mare is TIRED.  And here is the kicker with the second child - I KNOW how much harder it will be once she is here.  So, what will I do?  I will go warm up my Red Raspberry Leaf tea and eat some leftovers from dinner (it is 10:20 am - could be brunch, right?) and make a plan so I don't get fired for missing today's work deadline.  Then run around all weekend and pick up the pieces on Monday.  Maybe even go peek in the baby's room and sit in the comfy chair that I spent so many nights in with Roscoe and let it all soak in.  The chaos, the love, the messiness, the noise and know that I wouldn't trade my life for anyone's.  It is manic, but it is worth it.  

Our Little Angel Boy

Since I posted recently about what a handful the little mister can be, I thought I should balance that with other side of the coin.  Sometimes he swings the opposite way and is the sweetest boy I have known.  The other day he was hitting Mela with his piggie bank (unfortunately for Mela and Ikaika, not that uncommon).  I told him to stop and he didn't.  I took away his bank and he threw a tantrum and started hitting Mela.  I am so over having this same fight every day multiple times and I got frustrated and yanked him away and really yelled at him.  He got upset and started crying harder, I felt terrible and started crying, too.  (You can tell I have this whole motherhood thing down pat in time for the second to arrive).  So, I am holding him telling him that Mama is sorry for yelling and pulling and that I love him, but he still can't hit Mela.  Once he calmed down he started chasing Mela and I was like are-you-effin-kidding-me-right-now until I realized that he was chasing her saying "sorry!  sorry!  sorry!"  I calmed the traumatized Mela enough to sit down and Roscoe started petting her and saying sorry and whispering sweet nothings to her.  SO SWEET.  Oh, and then they french kissed.

Then the other day when we were putting him to bed he wouldn't give Dada kisses because he was too absorbed in his books or something.  Ray made an exaggerated sad face and Roscoe stopped and just looked at him very concerned.  Then Roscoe put his hand on Ray's arm and just patted his arm, watching his face carefully with a furrowed brow to see if it was helping.  Times like those I am reminded that he is just a sweet boy trying to find his way through this crazy life just like the rest of us.  He's a darn good egg.