Beastie Boys

Sometimes we throw around the idea of having a third kid (in sort of a "what if we had a hundred million dollars" kind of way), because Josh has always wanted a son, and then I'm like, Sure lets try for a boy, our luck we'll end up with SEVENTEEN MORE GIRLS.

And then we got separate beds like Lucy and Ricky.

Turns out, girls are pretty amazing though.  The two of ours, together, they're like this force-field of screechy, stubborn, hilarious, dominance that I secretly could not be more proud of.  I mean, Tula bosses us all around.  TULA.  The nine month old.  

Fucking rulers of my world in the best possible way.  

Having kids has definitely taught me I was not strong before.  I thought I was, but now that I live in a house with two women under three who think they're the boss of me - that has made me strong.  Because it's hard to be a parent in a good way.  I could probably parent like an asshole (and let's be honest, I'm sure I do sometimes because being a mom every day? that shit is hard) but I try, and I try, and I try to teach them they're not the center of the universe, and that they need to be respectful, and that they need to be kind, and that they need to pick up their toys, and that they need to eat their vegetables, and that they need to not pee on the dog, and that they need to wipe front to back, and that they need to wear socks and shoes in the snow, and that they need to cover their mouths when they cough, and they need to keep asking questions, and they need to keep learning, and they need to say I love you when they feel it, and they need to hug their friends because friends are everything, and they need to hug their family because family is everything, and they need to share their toys, and they need to not pull their big sister's hair, and they need to not yell at their dad just because he walked in the door the wrong way, and they need to give kisses, and hugs, and hold hands because all of that makes people so happy, and they need to sing as loud as they want to Frozen because the Frozen soundtrack is amazing, and they need to dance all crazy for as long as they can before they get self-conscious, and they need to wear sunscreen, and they need to dream, and they need to know they really can be anything they want to be, really, anything, and they need to write thank you cards, and they need to say please, and they need to say no thank you, and they need to keep making me cuddle with them at night because those extra minutes are so much better than The Bachelor anyway (Oh, Juan Pablo how you vex me!), and they need to listen when I say no, and listen when Daddy says no, and they need to tell someone when they're hurting their feelings, and they need to stand up for themselves, and they need to stand up for each other, and they need to love, and they need to nap, and they need to let me drink my coffee before the yelling begins, and they need to be kind, and they need to, need to, need to.

And every day I fail.  

And every day I win.

And being a parent is hard.

But probably not as hard as being a kid sometimes.  

Because being a kid is hard.  I remember.  That shit is really, really hard sometimes.  But it's also so, so, so amazing.

And together we are making it.  And we are having so much fun, even if sometimes we all end the day in tears.  

Because god forbid someone take a bite of her broccoli.  

My favorite picture of me and Adeline.  

Girls.

All I really want is girls.

And in the morning it's girls.

'Cause in the evening it's girls.

I like the way that they walk.

And it's chill to hear them talk.

And I can always make them smile.

From White Castle to the Nile.

Pumped Up Kickesth

After yesterday's nap time escapade video I interviewed the subject on what the heck she was doing.


Here's what she had to say on the matter.





 

New Digs

So, we switched Addie to a big girl bed!  Finally!  I really didn't want to because the crib acted as a nice little cage for her.  Honestly, if it wouldn't border on child abuse, I probably would have kept her in that thing until she left for college.  Ain't nobody need no teenage girl sneaking out of the house at night!

Unfortunately, Tula's room was still unfinished (8+ months later) because I kept saying, "But the crib is in Addie's room, and where else are we going to put that bed, or that pile of laundry, or that bookcase full of pamphlets, or the Reese's peanut butter egg wrappers I need to hide?"

So we gave Tula the crib, put Addie in a big girl bed and voila!  Nobody's room looks like they're about to be on an episode of hoarders anymore!

I was also worried Addie would decide she could now come and go as she pleases (yes she has locks on her doors, and yes, she can unlock them FROM EITHER SIDE).  But she's been doing really great.  Really, really great.

Here's a typical naptime.




Then while that's all happening this is happening.







Also, Addie has been obsessed with telling me how pretty her hair is.  And then she'll say, "Are you gonna get pretty long hair mom?"

Uh, excuse me?

"You should get pretty hair like Addie?"

I have no idea what you're talking about.

Needless to say the growing out process has been , well, weird.  And I tried.  I tried really hard.  I even let Josh give me several haircuts to avoid a raging mullet, but as it turns out, he is not in fact a hairdresser.  

I call this one "I can't understand why there hasn't been more romance around here".

So I broke down and got a haircut.  From a professional.  Who was not using kitchen scissors.

Better.

Addie even approved.