Hoops, Loops and What's Left of Mama

I Might Not Make It

 

Glam on point? Check.

I know, you've heard it like a quadrillion times: parenting is hard. It's hard as eff. And I'm going to tell you why I'm not going to survive this. Because yes, I am looking for sympathy and pats on the back. I need that sometimes.

Night Shift...And Day Shift

When I was a working mother, I thought "Well, at least stay-at-home moms get to stay home after a long night of nocturnal babies." Stay At Home Me thinks "I'd give anything to get away and talk to adults after a long night of nocturnal babies." You win some, you lose some. Well, maybe you just lose some no matter what. I'm not sure which Me wins in that situation.

The night shift is going to kill me. I'm convinced I'm going to die a few years earlier because of lack of sleep. And not like the "oh man, I stayed up late last night" kind of lack of sleep. I mean years of chronic sleep deprivation. The kind that you can not catch up on. The kind that kinda makes you want to vomit in the morning, that makes your eyes ache and blurs your mind. Every part of my face is puffy and my head is heavy. This is the kind of deprivation that brings on anxiety, depression, anger and lapses in critical thinking. It is supposedly equivalent to driving under the influence.

It's been going on for three years.

[Also, can we put in a side note here? I can promise you I will not miss this phase of not-sleeping-through-the-night. Will I miss holding a peaceful, sleeping baby? Yes. Will I miss snuggling the heavy warmth of a baby gently breathing? Yes. I can do that during the day. Will I miss getting out of a warm bed at night over and over again to console someone screaming or to simply replace a pacifier, then feeling like I'm on the verge of crying and screaming all day? Absolutely not.]

Husband always says "Why don't you go to bed earlier?" Because I am so anxious of the night. Because what is the point? Because being jolted from a deep sleep (again) is harder than simply getting up from watching television. Because the anxiety of thinking about the anxiety that is nighttime is keeping me from falling asleep. Because sweating all night with a pounding heart is not fun. Because night shift.

Then comes day shift. And trying to smile in between tears in my cereal, because I am that worn down. Trying to be patient with two toddlers when I just want to sit down for just a moment. Allowing hugs and kisses and sitting-in-laps even though my skin is crawling and doesn't want to be touched. Reading book after book when my tongue feels like lead.

But I am a badass. And I keep going. And I want to do all those things during the day, even though I don't want to do anything. I'm a walking paradox.

I think our Christmas photo pretty much sums it up.

Some of My Many Hats

I have a ton of hats on my head everyday. They're so heavy that I'm not going to make it. Let me tell you about two of these hats.

One of the hats that I wear is The Rememberer of Things. As Mommy, I have to remember to schedule well-visits and dental appointments (and be the one to take the kids there); where the socks and pants and undies and jammies and shirts and crib sheets and shoes and snow boots and bathing suits and coats are all kept; to bring sippy cups and snacks and a change of clothes and wipes and diapers wherever we go. I need to remember if we are close to being out of children's toothpaste or wipes or diapers or bananas or milk; where children's Tylenol is, how much each kid needs, which kind of teething tabs or gas drops or cough medicine is okay; to bring the Pack N' Play and nap mats and white noise machines and blankets and Bunny and Taggie and bottles on overnight trips.

If I forget something, I am the one that hears "You should have packed an extra pair of socks!" Yes, I should have.

Another hat I wear is The Doer of Things. The washer of kids' laundry, maker of breakfast and lunch and dinner (which, by the way, is thrown on the floor in appreciation), cutter of fingernails and toenails, cleaner of kids' bedroom, feeder of dog and cats and fish, sock and shoe and coat putter-oner, hair brusher, toothbrusher, clothes finder and dresser, diaper changer, playroom cleaner. I'm a bottle washer, milk pourer, sippy cup filler, snack maker, diaper bag packer.

Husband helped clean the playroom! Looks great, and totally safe.

Good thing I love you so much.

Do I always do it all alone? Of course not. Do I usually do it alone? Yep, I'm the one home all day. This is not to say that I am not appreciative of those who help support me. You guys are the reason my survival has made it this far. Thank you to Husband for working so hard, and family members who babysit. But if I could just split myself into a Doer of Things and Fun Mom Stuff Doer, life would be so much easier. I think Fun Mom Stuff Doer would get to do all the tickling and baby-head smelling.

Priorities 

I always end up putting my own needs behind the needs of everyone else in a constant unsuccessful attempt at perfection. Once you've done this for long enough, it begins to feel like that's how it is supposed to be, and it begins to be the norm for everyone. It's a terrible way to survive, and I'm not going to make it.

I instituted taking turns sleeping in on the weekend with Husband. He can stay in bed and I wake up with kids on Saturday, and I sleep in on Sunday. I look forward to Sunday all week. But one Saturday, it was not my turn and I woke before the sun with Loops. The night before the neighbors had another loud party that pushed the limits of 3:00 in the morning. I'm a very light sleeper and kept confusing their screams for baby cries. Hoops had been sick all week with diarrhea and vomiting, after Loops had been sick with the same for two weeks. (They love taking turns to really prolong the nastiness.) After Hoops woke up, he was spending the morning in various stages of sickness-induced meltdowns. Neither child ate the breakfast that they screamed for and I prepared, but both were crying for snacks less than an hour later...which also went largely uneaten. Hoops begins to cry inconsolably while Loops throws her snacks on the floor for the dog. I attempt to put Hoops down for an early nap.

Shortly later, Husband comes down stairs with a not-sleeping-Hoops. "Can you microwave him a slice of pizza?" Yes, I can (didn't eat breakfast or snack, but sure). "Can you cut it up for him?" YEP. I need to take a shower. "Can't you just put on a hat instead? I want to go out and do something." No, I need to shower like a regular person. "Okay, well, we'll be waiting for you." We'll be waiting for you. Message: my need for basic hygiene [or any type of self-care] is inconvenient to everyone else. Was this message that was being intended? Probably not. Was it what it felt like, what has become the norm? Yes.

This is my fault. Since the beginning I have put myself last and been a control freak, and this has become my mode. This is something I'm working to change; to ask for help when needed, to make time for myself. I don't think I'm alone in putting my needs behind everyone's and feeling like I need things done "my way," I think nearly all mothers are "afraid" to admit it. If I keep putting myself last, I'm not going to make it out of here.

The Chaos

Hoops and Loops are both toddlers, so I'm already on the brink of not making it just on that basis alone. I'm going to let that sink in for a minute. I have two toddlers. I give mad props to anyone who has more than that at home, because you obviously wear a cape everyday. I am not worthy. Loops is 18 months, (a year and a half for those who don't want to do "Motherhood Math") and Hoops is about to turn three. Neither is able to understand the realm outside of their own being; it is a constant storm of screaming, pulling, pushing, biting, hitting, crying, "No!" and "Mine!"

We're in the same choir, buddy. Don't come preachin' at me.

Neither one is empathetic quite yet. I am hoping that eventually that trait will build in them and they won't forever remain sociopaths intent on stealing, harming and screaming. But for now, I'm trapped with two egomaniacs all day long. They simply do not care about anyone else. Oh sure, there are moments of cute kisses and snuggles, but don't let that fool you: that's for them, and their enjoyment, not yours. They can't quite help this, those little crazies.

Toddlers can be so damn cute. They can be so damn trying. And they're my only company all day. Yes, I go to the gym or grocery store, but I'm not exactly having adult conversations while I'm there. "Oh hi, let's discuss world politics, Stranger Friend!" I'm sure they'd look at me like I was as crazy as I actually am. Also, I hope you don't mind having that conversation while I attempt to pull my hand away from my shockingly strong daughter as she tries to lick my fingers. And while my son starts yell-talking about life, the universe and everything. And while I stutter through vaguely pseudo-relevant news tidbits about politics I picked up three years ago.

Silver Lining

Assuming I survive this, there is a silver lining to the whole thing.

Pretty simple:

Silly Hoops and Super Loops!

They are my everything, my heart and soul, my night and day (literally). This love makes me want to open up my chest and squeeze the children inside so I can hold them there forever. The moments of soft snuggles, the moments of insane toddler giggles which totally beat the baby laughs, the times they just need ME, and watching them grow makes everything melt away, if only for a moment. Just the thought of the love brings tears to my eyes.

To quote Husband: 

"I never knew the true depths of love until I had children."

Hoops and Loops Around and Around

Because I'm so smart

I often hear "I don't know how you do it." Like, really, I hear this a lot. Having a one year old and a two and a half year old is akin to insanity, and I'm so glad that there are some people out there who are appreciative of how nuts my life is. It reminds me of the saying "Not my circus, not my monkeys," only it IS my circus and they ARE my monkeys.

I often feel like responding "I don't." I don't do it. I hang on by my fingernails and hope that when I fall, the pile of laundry will cushion my fall. There are a lot of tears in this house, and I can't always say they belong to the children. I am constantly moving, constantly being touched, constantly cleaning up something (oh, I love bodily fluids), constantly consoling someone even when I need it myself. I debate whether to use naptime to tackle all the things that need to get done, or spend it sleeping or just listening to the sounds of my own breathing. And the monitor. Always the monitor.

But I've said it before, I'm so smart. I have a few things going for me that keep somewhat sane. On a good day. Do I fail miserably at some of these for days (...weeks?) sometimes? Yep. Am I currently behind on all the things? Uh huh. But I always love getting back on that well-oiled routine machine.

Laundry

I cannot claim this idea for my own, but if you'd like to attribute it to me, then you're welcome.

One day I was lamenting to a coworker about the absolute absurdity of baby laundry. The clothes are SO small that by the time the load is full, there are around 79 shirts, 56 pairs of pants, 32 undies, 45 onesies and 1,974 socks to sort. One load of baby laundry is equivalent to doing four loads of full grown human laundry and takes about six times as long to fold, sort, put away and hang up. It is a totally stupid process.

And she says with a straight face, "Why the hell are you doing that?"

To which I replied "Huh?" My face was also straight, but it should be noted a more probable descriptor would be 'vacant.'

Then she gave me the quite possibly the best advice I've ever gotten about motherhood. She said: "Stop folding and hanging up."

So here is what I do now:

 Inside those bins are gloriously un-folded clothes

Each kid has a bin for shirts (and/or onesies) and another bin for pants/shorts. I literally throw them in there. I don't fold them, I just throw 'em on in. "What about wrinkles?" I can hear you gasping. Listen, no one gives a hoot-and-a-half about a two year old wearing a wrinkled shirt, and honestly, if you do then we can't be friends anymore. Plus, with the amount of moving and grooving Hoops and Loops do throughout the day, by lunch the wrinkles are gone and replaced by blueberry stains and snot. And if for some weird reason they require wrinkle-free clothes for an event, because I do have fancy children, I just bust out the iron. No, no, no, I don't iron it, silly. I just blast it with the steam setting. Because I win at momming.

Some of you are good at math and see that there are two extra bins. I use those bins for a collection of clothes that are out of season and/or one size too big. That way if there is an especially cool day, I still have little sweaters and cozy clothes and if a kid suddenly gets big I have a stash ready to go. In the attic...well. That's where I keep four very large storage bins full of clothes. Two are full of clothes that have been generously given to us but are too big right now...and two are my delusional stash of clothes that are too small for Hoops or Loops, but are for "just in case." (I think I just heard my husband start the car and head to the vasectomy clinic. They have those right?)

I do still hang an occasional item up: nice little Loops dresses, certain jackets. I also have a little dresser on the opposite side of the room that houses the pajamas, socks (OH MY GOODNESS LET'S BAN SOCKS FOR CHILDREN UNDER 13), undies and even pull-ups for when Hoops goes to bed. But this "No Fold" method has really saved me an immense amount of time in sorting, folding and hanging laundry. It is so much easier.

 Say "Cheese" Hoops! Or run. That makes sense too. (Please don't ask about the lamp. Yeah.)

Child labor 

Poor Hoops. The kid grabs diapers and wipes for Loops, then throws away the dirty diaper (not the poops, because I'm not heartless, people). He puts dirty clothes in the hamper, he puts his and his sister's shoes in the bin when we get home. He cleans up his toys as best as you could imagine. He throws away trash, he wipes up spills. He dusts. He has even started helping with sorting the laundry into the bins. He's obsessed with vacuums, but can't quite manage the big one so he has his own little Dyson he uses while we vacuum.

The best part? He has no idea how much doing these things totally sucks. Hoops actually likes being a part of the process and helping. I can't wait until I can get Loops in on this process and I can just sit back and sip wine and watch Netflix all day. That day is coming guys. I may even train them to give foot massages.

Food prep

See this post for some foods that we eat around this circus. My husband is fantastic at prepping a large quantity of food for us to eat for lunch during the week. It is so great to know that in the middle of insanity, I can plop children into highchairs and grab some Tupperware that already has food, fruits and veggies and I'm done. I also do a lot of easy foods for breakfast. Read the post, guys. It's golden.

Cleaning

This one is not fun. Because cleaning is the worst. But again, firstly employ child labor.  I am literally the worst at cleaning. It is so hard with all the babies and everything and I hate it. One thing that helps when I actually enact it is setting one goal a day, and sadly using nap time to NOT nap. I used to make a jillion To-Do lists, and now I just write down one thing that I hope to get done that day. Just one tiny thing to get done that day. It might say "Bathroom" and I might just get that done. I might be able to spend 15 minutes cleaning the bathroom that day. (Again, I can hear my husband. Laughing in hysterics this time.)

This is literally 9:30am

I clean the playroom every night right after the kids go to bed, and set out some toys for them to choose from the next morning. It's so nice for it to be clean with everything where it goes, and setting out a different choice (one on the table, one on the floor) keeps them interested in all the toys because something is always new and exciting. They give me 15 minutes of engrossed in the activity wherein I can make my own breakfast and recuperate from the worst night's sleep I ever had the night before, every single night, always.

Gym

I just started this. I have been going to the gym 3-4 times a week for the last seven weeks, and am hoping to increase it to 4-5 times a week. They have childcare included in the monthly fee, and I can drop Hoops and Loops off for up to two hours at a time. Guys, I can work out and take a shower. A whole shower without worrying about listening to the monitor and hoping kids stay asleep while I shampoo. The exercise also helps relieve stress and is a great outlet. I hope it also sets up a positive example for the monkeys. And they get some socialization with other kids there and get out of the playroom for a while.

So there ya have it.

Some teeny ideas to help me from totally losing it. Like I said, hardly ever are all of these things in place at once because this isn't a fairy tale.  But it does help!

Got any other ideas? Let me know and keep me sane as the babes do hoops and loops around me!

Loops and the Sleepless Nights

Golden Slumbers Fill Your Eyes

There's no sleep to be had in my household (well, none for mom at least). Little Loops is not good at it. She's like a newborn who awakens every two hours or less, but way less floppy and with way more attitude. There's a certain level of anxiety associated with getting into my own bed. Is it worth it to try and fall asleep, only to be abruptly awakened soon thereafter, or should I just stay awake and avoid startling out of a child-free dream? After settling her back down, how much longer do I have before it starts again? There are only four hours left before her brother wakes up and I don't get the chance to even attempt going back to sleep, now three, now two... Does she need a bottle to stave off hunger? Or will that start a bad habit and she'll want one every time she wakes up? Where's the extra pacifiers? Should I change her diaper or will that only intensify her alertness?

She shares a room with her brother and if she wakes him up we're faced with an end-of-times double-baby-crying fest. The battle has ended, or only just begun, or I'm not even sure because did I even fall asleep between the last waking and this one or was I just closing my eyes and why are the birds so loud at 4am? 

Don't even get me started on darkness induced toe stubs.

Considering having a baby?

Well, why don't you give your tolerance of sleep deprivation a test drive! Set your alarm to go off every two hours. Now, don't cheat and hit snooze; get out of your bed and stand in another room for at least 10 minutes, maybe rock back and forth a bit, or jostle around with a ten pound bag of flour or two. Good! Repeat in two hours. (For extra credit, play a sound during those ten minutes that grates your nerves on an instinctual level!) Now, set your alarm for 45 minutes before you actually need to be awake for work for the day, or whatever it is people do during the day, because that is prime baby wake up time. How do you feel? Not so bad? Now try every day for a year. 

How about now?

I mean, babies are cute and life-affirming and all, but that is reality right there. It ain't glamorous for sure. There comes a point when rational thinking becomes a thing of the past. Heard of pregnancy brain? Sleepless brain is worse. Of course I can't remember where my passport is, I can't remember what day it is. Yes, I just put the nipple to the bottle on the gallon of milk and the milk lid on the bottle. Yes, I forgot to feed the dog, but he did get some uneaten lunch and breakfast from the kids as it was thrown on the floor. YES, I count that as cleaning the floor. 

And then there's the inner fuming white-hot fury whenever anyone else uses the phrase "I'm so tired" because, oh really? Smile and nod, smile and nod, my friend. It's going to be really hard to stop that rant once you start it. Try not to take your husband's peaceful snoring too personally. Or the never ending list of "helpful advice" that has never worked ever. Just accept it. It makes it so much easier to accept knowing that it is going to happen every night and there's nothing you can do about it.

This is starting to sound really bad...

But don't worry, babies have that whole built-in cuteness going for them that aides in their survival. And while you may feel like this:

That little baby will still have moments like this:

And while you wonder how they even have the energy to make that cute face, you find yourself smiling. You're still rubbing your eyes and finding mascara on your fingers from who knows when, and you're still yawning so wide you could fit that baby's head in there, but you're smiling. Just as you are scribbling "Free to Good Home" on the side of a cardboard box to put on the street corner, that child intervenes in the form of a head rested on your shoulder, a wet snotty kiss, a squealing laugh or a little booty dancing to her favorite song and you think "I mean, I guess I can keep her a little while longer."

Sometimes, in the middle of the night when that little body has finally gotten heavy and still in your arms, joyful tears will flow down your face. And not because she has finally fallen asleep (though that happens too), but because she is so damn beautiful, and you are so damn lucky to breathe the same air as her. You'll be so tired that every part of your body will ache, but you will hold her a little longer just to look at the curve of her nose and the fullness of her lips. You will close your eyes and promise to remember her in this moment forever.

Love abounding, my friends. Love abounding.

Hoops, Loops and the Healthy Poops

Healthy gut, healthy butt

This a kinda "a day in the life of" post. Our lives are incredibly interesting so strap in.

Let me start off by saying I do my best. I'm not fanatic, I don't do sugar-free, paleo, gluten-free, exclusively organic or anything like that, and I do enjoy me some McDonald's every now and then way too often a lot.

But my kids eat better than I do. (This is a change I'm making happen for myself right now, as opposed to my current model of  "do as I say, not as I do.") I think a lot about what goes into their little tummies because I have to deal with the consequences of what comes out of their little butts. I really want them to grow up with healthy habits and all that, but also the poop thing.

What we eat, because you're dying to know

Here is a meal I packed for a play date. It was shared by Hoops and Loops. We had some blueberries (FYI: Loops will eat blueberries until her arse is stained blue from the blueish blackish poops that result from eating all the blueberries) and some cherry tomatoes. Hoops is way into tomatoes, but Loops needs them cut up a bit, it's hard out there with six teeth, so I packed a knife. In the other other Tupperware is some mega delicious sauerkraut from Number 1 Sons that we get from the farmer's market. We're partial to the Stinkin' Rye variety. It's mildly hilarious to watch both babes shove some fermented 'kraut in their mouths. I especially love this stuff because it is fermented and full of probiotics. You can also catch a glimpse of a cheese stick, because cheese, and some chocolate milk that Hoops got. Little Loops is on water or whole milk like a prisoner.

We marinate the chicken and cook a whole bunch at a time, then cut it all up and save it for dinners and lunches throughout the week. I mean, it's a lot of chicken. Now that Loops eats real foods, and I'm trying to eat what the kids eat, it's a lot of chicken. I've noticed all of our food gets consumed faster now that Loops  eats and I'm joining in. I'm not sure why I am so shocked by the fact that three people, one of us arguably an adult, eats more than one toddler did before, but it's shocking at the grocery store nonetheless.

That's a bowl of quinoa with spinach, a plate of peas and some chicken.

Loops and a cracker.

Luckily, my children love going to the grocery store. Let's see how long that lasts. I try to buy things that take practically no time to prepare because there's just no way to do it otherwise. Cooking while with a one year old and a two and a half year old is not something I want to try alone. So here are some of our other staples:

Fruits
-5 bonus points for any that need cutting, because that's annoying
Strawberries, blueberries, grapes, clementines (+7 bonus points for being easier to peel than oranges), bananas, apples, peaches, plums, mangoes (+10 bonus points for getting the pre-sliced ones from the store)

Veggies
+25 bonus points for any vegetable that is actually eaten, -17 bonus points for preparation
Frozen peas, aforementioned sauerkraut, spinach, cauliflower, green beans (oh, and we sometimes get dilly beans from Number 1 Sons too!), pickles and onions that I love putting into anything

Mmmm, chicken and sauerkraut.

For breakfast, I usually make some toast with peanut butter and honey, some cheese, cashews (well, not for toothless Loops) and some fruit. I also am a fan of the overnight oats, and make a big batch of Greek yogurt mixed with applesauce, honey and sometimes berries or bananas. That stuff tastes amazeballs but looks a bit like barf, so eat it with your eyes closed. Lunch is usually the precooked chicken, maybe some apple chips with hummus for dipping, a veggie and/or fruit. Hoops has gotten really into sandwiches, but hates when they fall apart so I glue them together with hummus, which is weird. Dinner is more of the same but with variation on the fruit or veggie. And because it's all prepared beforehand (let's talk about cooking chicken and veggies after bedtime...) I just grab from the fridge and place on the plates! I've found using plates like these really help me organize meals-- something colorful in each spot!

I told you that the oatmeal and yogurt concoction looks like barf. 

Snack, snacks, snacks!

I'm not gonna lie, sometimes the kids eat a lot of Gerber puffs for snacks. But when they're not eating that, they enjoy cashews, crackers with peanut butter, rice cakes, cheese and pretzels or more fruit. Once, Hoops even asked for spinach for his snack because the kid is weird.

Snacking outside on some crackers with peanut butter and some puffs. I swear they're mildly enjoying it.

 

So there ya have it

A day in the life of our eating. And I've got it down to such a science I can tell you within 28 minutes of when one of the children is going to have a nice ole healthy poop.

Got any ideas of what else to feed the hungry horde?

Hoops and the Happy Hug

Happy Hugs by Hoops

Some days, Hoops can be a little bit off.

And by a little bit off, I mean totally 100% off his rocker. He will contradict himself; "I want a sandwich, I DON'T WANT A SANDWICH!" He will offer his sister a toy, then scream in hysterics when she accepts it. He will roll around listlessly on the floor; "I just can't get up." I'm with ya on that one, kid.

Now, at 2.5 years old, I'm told this is to be expected. We've been working on "using our words" to express our feelings. As an adult, I am so super good at this. If there was a font for sarcasm, I'd be using it. BUT so far we have gotten the hang of:

"I mad at you, Mommy!"
"I upset with you, Mommy!"
"You make me sad, Mommy!"
And my personal favorite: "I don't like you right now, Mommy!"

Are you sensing a theme, here?

Luckily for me, his verbal skills are astounding. Like really, really good. Not so luckily, he still has the social skills of a 2.5year old. He's more than likely to be heard telling complete strangers at the grocery store that he has a "cute little tiny hiney" or loudly informing me that he "doesn't want that guy over there to pinch him." Because that's not awkward.

Entire days can be spent with this face wailing at me, snot drippage and all. Sure, it looks pretty adorable, and I bet you're feeling some pangs of empathy. (Or sympathy...or empathy, or whichever.) But trust me, it ain't cute.

...Okay, you're right, it's a little bit cute. He can't really help that. It's not something he's doing on purpose.

Now, because I'm practically a genius, I know that the snot-dripping face is really the result of this face:

"Would you like to take a nap?" I ask, with only a hint of desperation in my voice. I'm practically nodding my head off my neck with subtle encouragement.

You can guess where this usually gets me. The worst part is, I know what his reaction will be, yet each time I am tempted to ask this question hoping for a difference response.

The biggest of the meltdowns come about two hours before nap. Two hours before nap. That is 120 minutes of emotional highs and lows to contend with. Poor little Loops usually gets the brunt of it; she is just fascinated by his crying, and insists on touching his tears like some sort of little voodoo healer. Hoops insists on knocking her healing hands off his face.

And so begins the Happy Hug 

One day, when in the throes of toddler tantrums, I calmly asked "Hoops, would you like a Happy Hug?" I don't even know where this came from. His little body was out of sync with his little soul and he just needed to hug it out. He popped up from wailing on the ground, then plopped down in my lap and gave me the best hug. Of all the hugs.

"I happy again."

And just like that, the Happy Hug was born. Any time a tantrum blows through the playroom, or looms over the living room, or rains down on us on the playground, I open my arms to provide a Happy Hug. It's like I'm pressing a toddler reset button. It is my go-to defense move, and it has the highest success rate of any of the moves in my tantrum avoidance toolkit.

Sometimes they last mere moments before he's off again, and other times the feelings need a longer hug. And I'm okay with that. I know one day it will be me wanting a Happy Hug from him, and I won't always be able to get it.

Because he'll be too embarrassed by me in the grocery store talking to strangers about his cute little tiny hiney.

Loops and "I Love Lucy"

Little Loops just celebrated her first birthday, so I chose an "I Love Lucy" theme. For this I chose red, black and white as the colors, and included polka dots wherever I could. Naturally, the show "I Love Lucy" was in black and white, but I felt the polka dots, red, black and white really brought about the feeling of a 1940's housewife.

"But wait, who are you?"

Before we delve into what I did for the party, I'd like to say that there a probably thousands, dare I say millions, of mommy blogs out there. All kinds of mommies with stories to tell, advice (....and opinions) to share and all that good stuff. So you might ask yourself: why am I reading this one?

To that I say:
I have no idea, but thanks for stopping by!

First let me start off by saying, I'm not that great of a mom. I mean, my kids are happy, healthy, adorable and well-fed but.... they probably watch way more television then I would like to admit (can we get a "Yo Gabba Gabba" up in here?) and also each probably consume two cheese sticks a day. I'm far from crafty, I'm not organized, and most importantly, I am tired. I am tired. I've mastered the clothing choices and (lack of) basic hygiene that introduce me as a tired person. I've put hand soap on my toothbrush, worn clothes two days in a row and washed my hair with baby powder more times than I'd like to admit. I'm. Just. That. Tired.

"Yeah, and who isn't?"
Touche. But I'm not here for advice, or craft ideas, or style ideas or anything really. Mostly I'm here for commiseration. But if by chance some words of wisdom do pop out, promptly ignore them.

I have a little boy, Hoops, and a little girl, Loops. Pay close attention and you might even catch their real names. I used to be a kindergarten teacher until little maternity leave, childcare costs (I'm not climbing onto my soapbox quite yet; maybe we'll save that for another post) and stress prompted me to become a stay-at-home mom.

So, back to Loops and her first birthday. 

We got people to attend this shindig by sending them this wonderful invite, custom designed by Little Laws Prints:

I put a little note on the bottom indicating for no gifts. Really, enough is enough at this point. I think I'll even post about that one day: the devolution of play through an overwhelming amount of toys. (But serious thanks and gratitude to those who do think of our kids and want to get them gifts! We feel the love!)

So, like I said, we chose polka dots, red, black and white. I also think the colors and the polka dots would work great for a Mickey Mouse party or a ladybug party too.

Here is some of the decor I used:

Can't you just see how crafty I am? I mean, that is pure talent right there. Anyway, I bought red streamers and found black streamers with white polka dots. It was nice and breezy so this little guy signaled to our guest to come on in. Or something. It was a lot of taping.
But again, I think this would work great for several themes.

Here's a little sign my father made on the front door. I really debated whether it should be just "Celebrating" or "S'elebrating" to be reminiscent of Ricky Ricardo's famous line. In the end I went with the S and apostrophe. I'm still unsure of this. The heart was supposed to be red, and the "To Do" didn't print on it... Crafty. My dad and I are very crafty.

More tape and streamers for the stairs! As you come in, these streamers are just an indicator of party time.

During the party, we had episodes of "I Love Lucy" playing on the TV. We kept the volume low, but it was a fun touch. I don't think anyone noticed.

I went even farther with my taping skills. I used the black streamers with the polka dots and taped it around red cups to place the black utensils in. I also used red paper plates and added some black plastic cups just for extra interest. I even found red napkins with white polka dots on them. Thanks Party City!

I also found some red balloons, black balloons with white dots and a foil red heart balloon. The balloons were even held down by a heavy pair of hearts. I placed these on the counter along with some pictures of Loops and her brother. I covered the granite with a red table cloth. It was mega slippery, so I used some tape donuts and taped it to the counter. If you haven't noticed, I'm a pro at taping.

I decked out the highchair with more tape and streamers and a second bundle of balloons. We took it outside for the singing of birthday songs and smashing of cake.

My terribly talented sister made this cake for our little Loops. Her talents obviously extend past tape and streamers.

More importantly, what did we wear?

Here's a picture of me and Loops. She is wearing that cute little dress from this shop on Etsy, and our matching headbands are from this shop. She was almost painfully adorable. I had a dress that somewhat matched her dress, but that morning was feeling a wee bit unhappy with my current body dimensions (again, fodder for another post) so I went with this striped shirt and a black pencil skirt. I believe the other outfit would have been better with the theme, but this still felt 1940's housewife to me.

I even attempted makeup and hair.

 

Here's Hoops wearing a bowling shirt that was supposed to conjure up images of Ricky Ricardo and Little Ricky. He lasted in his clothes all of one hour of the party before wandering around in undies or a swim diaper. Toddlerhood. Eventually Loops joined the pants-off-party.

So there you have it! Loops and her "I Love Lucy" party!

 

What do you think? Have you ever had a similar theme or could use any of these ideas?