My House Smells Like Poop

My house smells like poop, and I can't find where it's coming from. I keep checking the girls' dipes and it's definitely not coming from them, which is unsettling and driving me crazy. I really hope it's just on my t-shirt and not embedded in our carpet somewhere. Upon looking into the kitchen, I realized it could very well be just old food smell, since there's a pile of tupperware full of leftovers sitting in the sink that I pulled out of the fridge early yesterday (two days ago?) and haven't done anything about. We've been sort of trapped in the house since Monday morning due to extreme humidity outside, and I'm in one of those "I'm stuck in my house and am avoiding cleaning it" moods, as opposed to a much preferred "We're constantly on-the-go so I have to quickly clean the house" mood. This may be contributing to the poop smell.

Packing

This weekend we're headed down to my parents' house for a visit, which means this week I'll be writing little reminders on various pieces of mail, receipts and other scraps of paper about what to pack to be sure: a) my children don't miss a single comfort item, which would send them into the kind of hysterics my parents don't believe actually happen with my perfect angels, or b) we forget something that will make my own life easier, like a monitor or both warm and cold weather pjs, or food that my kids might eat if all that is made for them is rejected, etc. I will also need to pack everything that my kids are using and wearing in an adorable way, in case Trevor and I reference it and my parents need to see it in action. 

Lucky me, everyone is leaving early Saturday morning to travel to Detroit, where they'll attend a Tigers game, leaving me in Grand Rapids with my kids. Alone. Which is a lot like being at my house alone with my kids, except without all of their creature comforts (save those that I'll be packing, of course), friends and schedule. It will, however, give me the chance to visit friends in the GR area who we always miss seeing, because our trips there are so busy with my family. 

I'm attaching a video of Berit singing You Are My Sunshine, which we just taped and uploaded, to distract her from her tough job of pooping. We are also currently watching an Elmo video for the same reason, and it seems to be working, as she is stinky but happy and a little hungry. She's decided we should call Mosey Chuckie Sue, after Telly's hamster. Ah, if only he really were a hamster.

A Fourth worthy of fireworks. Not that we saw any...

This Fourth of July week/weekend was the kind you see in movies -- sunshine, beach, parades (two in one day!), cookies, ice cream AND gelato, lots of walking down quaint Main Streets, and all family, all the time. In a good way. No fireworks, because the girls are still too young to really enjoy them, and would probably just be scared silly and way overtired (over-sugared, over-spoiled, over-sunned, etc.). I remember last year, when Berit was 1 (and even more so the year before, when she was a few months old), our neighbors lit fireworks in their driveways, as normal American families do on the Fourth of July. I was furious, and shouted out the windows and called my friends on our block to be sure it wasn't them, in fear they'd wake my sleeping child. This year we barely noticed it. Ah, the magic of the second baby.

Trevor's brother Jason, sister-in-law Stephanie, and their children Annie, 3 1/2, and Jemma, 18 months, were here all week, much to Berit's delight. Trevor was also thrilled to continue the vacation with his brother, which started last week in Belgium, and Stephanie and I enjoy hanging out and chatting about books, kids, writing, the family and other non-stressful things as we wrangle the kids and nag the boys to help us out just a little. Good dads that they are, they always do. Annie and Berit were especially cute this year, as they actually played together, singing and marching and running and dancing, and also yelling, jumping, climbing and occasionally arguing. Jason said this week would probably go down as the favorite holiday for a long time, and I think he was right. I can't wait until my girls can also stay at Trevor's parents' house when Annie and Jemma are there, and the fun can be amplified by sleepovers and fun breakfasts. They'd all just wake each other up now. Maybe next year. Wonder who'll be pregnant then? :)

The entire family is currently sleeping, Mosey included, though Marta is stirring and should be up any minute now. I think she's teething, or has a belly ache, because she was up all night and has been the past couple of nights. Berit was also awake last night, shockingly, screaming in an out-of-control manner because she didn't want to be asleep. After a few hours of first examining to be sure she was OK, then lovingly asking her to go back to sleep, then telling her to go to sleep or else, I whipped her out of bed and put her in the bathtub, giving her the option of crying there or going to sleep in her bed. She chose bed. It worked, hallelujah, though I'm not looking forward to whatever issues I've created for bathtime. 

Marta Marta Marta

If I had known Marta before I delivered her, I would have named her Joy. She is happy so much of her day -- in fact, the only time she's not happy is when she's furious. Which is when she's not being held or entertained. (Marta doesn't subscribe to the theory that second babies are content.) She's all of 6 months old, is sitting, rolling and generally being cute and wiggly. She is a BIG baby, and is already wearing Berit's 18-months clothes. She loves Berit like crazy and wants nothing more than to play with her, laugh with her and watch her do funny things. She also loves finding Mosey and going for walks. She tires of being inside easily and screeches loudly in both happiness and frustration. She's desperate to be a big kid and crawl, run and play. Also, eat.

A very serious post about Berit. Seriously.

Here's a big post about my girl Berit, mostly for her benefit but it might be comforting for other moms to see and know that they aren't alone in the Terrible Twos: Girl Edition.

Berit is nearly 2 1/2 years old, and is proud to tell you this information while holding up two fingers and beaming. She loves being two, and is very curious about her friends' ages. I think this comes with becoming a big sister -- she's the Big Girl now, and can do things that babies can't. 

Berit has given herself a number of nicknames, which I'll spell phonetically, for obvious reasons: Beebee-o, Bee-bo, B, Beboly-bobily, Beep, and the lovely B-O. We also call her Lovebug and Honeybee. 

She's a sensitive child, which is a nice way to say she's moody and quick to find fault with any given situation. Just this afternoon at the park, I opened the bag holding her PB+J, and she had a full-on meltdown because she didn't want it open. Not because SHE wanted to open it. Not because she didn't want to eat the sandwich (she did want to eat it). She just didn't want the bag open, and especially not by me. If she wakes in the middle of the night (which she does quite often), there's no whimpering and then drifting back to sleep. It's a full-on, wake everyone up, check for a fever, need a new cup of water, are there pins in the bed poking her? kind of wakefulness. 

But she's also a very kind, sweet, smart girl. I know all moms say this about their children, but in Berit's case, each one of these qualities is well thought-out by her and deliberate. She quietly observes friends playing before deciding what she'd like to do, and very rarely tries to get involved in play (common for this age, I think). (Though with her cousins she does actively participate, which is strange, because she sees them less frequently than her friends. Cute for us adults to watch, and extra happy get-togethers for all.)

She makes sure everyone has what they need and takes very good care of her toys. She's the kind of kid for whom a dollhouse, baby buggy and cradle and kitchen are great toys. She never mixes her toys up -- in other words, we rarely find a kitchen toy mixed in with her dollhouse toys, or an upstairs toy downstairs (except babies, which go anywhere and everywhere). She loves to sing and knows probably 100 songs or so. We counted one time and got pretty close to 100, and she's since learned a few more. She is teaching herself letters, because she knows a few and words that start with them, and I haven't done a thing regarding this. (Brag: The other day she said, "Donut. Donut is D, like Daddy and dog.") (She loves donuts in a big way.)

She's all girl and loves to play dolls, dress-up and read. She also loves anything athletic, especially extreme sports with Daddy. 

She has a "blanka," which is one of my old t-shirts that she carries everywhere if possible, and even tucks into the neck-hole of her shirts if she's too busy to carry it with her hands. She also has an elephant that's very, very special, and her favorite color is green. In fact, she tries to be dressed in green whenever possible, and any choice she has will be a green one, if it's an option. We don't know how this happened, but it's been Green Machine for a very long time now, with no end in sight.

She hates sleeping, and sometimes wakes up in the middle of the night furious that she has fallen asleep and refuses to go back to sleep. This is fun for the whole family, since her wails are never in a nice inside voice, and wake up Marta, who actually likes to sleep but if she's awakened during the night, thinks she needs to be up for a full two hours before going back down. 

B also hates having her hair brushed, the getting clean part of baths, sunscreen and bug spray, when we do anything for her that she could possibly do for herself, pooping, getting messy and any rushing to do anything.

She loves strict order (all of her jibbitz must be turned the proper way on her crocs, her buckles must be just so, toys need to be arranged perfectly, etc.), rules that make things nice for everyone involved (taking turns with toys, for example), swings, swings, swings, chapstick, water and make-believe.

We call her serious, because she is. Ever since she was a baby she's been more thoughtful than anything else. Even when she was born she didn't cry, didn't fuss, just looked around and took everything in. We play a game where we say, "Get serious. Get serious!" while we make serious faces until we all crack up.

She pretends she's stoic but needs cuddles forced upon her. She wants total freedom but craves structure. She is desperate to do everything herself but needs adults to step in at exactly the right time to avoid a meltdown that could ruin her day entirely. If she's not learning , she asks for it. She makes up adorable names for people, animals and toys (examples: One doll is named CeCe Bingo. A dog is named Cooking.).

She is fun, fun, fun, and I often wish I had the time to just focus on her happiness for days on end, because I would love to see her just blossom under the attention. She gets mad at me for splitting my focus between her and her sister, and for days will avoid me or be grumpy with me, until she finally crumbles in my lap with hugs and won't let me hold Marta. 

I'm so happy she was my first baby, and she'll always have a really special, lovely place in my mind because of it. Not that my other child(ren) won't be special and I don't love her more, etc. etc. But she has taught me so much, and I think we figured out this parenting thing together, more than my learning to do it on my own. 

Trevor just reminded me that the other day she said, "What a mess. Holy cow." This is significant because she's so order-minded. While we were at his parents' house, she went over to the rugs where everyone's shoes were, and lined them all up. She then went to her cousin Annie's crocs and lined up all of her jibbitz, just like she lines up her own. Hmm... will I be writing a post about this in the future, possibly looking for a therapist?

The girls just having fun

Chocolate, waffles and beer

Will all my posts start with food? Trevor has returned from Belgium, laden with sweets for the girls but I got to them first. I did manage to save some for B, though. He had a great time with Erwin and Jason, but felt like something was missing, I think, without the girls and me there. Which is nice. 

Cousins are here for the Fourth of July week, and the day could not be more beautiful. Started out at the park and I took M for a long, long walk while B and Trev played with Annie and Jemma. We met up at the concert in the park and shared a lunch and gelato, and swung Berit by her hands while we walked. We fed Marta gelato -- surprise! she loves it.