As I often do, I read about my friend Sarah at Mashed Bananas and am reminded that I need to blog. She is a better woman than I, doing it at night, away from work, but that's not the way I roll. Maybe I just don't have enough to do here...maybe I just don't want to do it.

First off, I thank the potty training gods for finally getting Jack over the hump. Again, could have been the Diego underpants or just the simple fact that the child was ready. Hubby and I are breathing a collective sigh of relief. Those damn pull-ups were sucking the life out of me and my wallet. We still aren't where we can go pull-up-less at night, but as long as the days are dry, I'm good. No accidents for a couple of weeks now...(sorry little guy, hope I didn't jinx you!**).

Life is immensely better with Miss Charlotte in the world...and I'll get to that...but balance. How do you do it and not feel guilt? My house is nowhere near the cleanliness level I need and it's driving me insane. I want to be with my kids more. I want to work, too. My jeans don't fit and it's making me want to cry. I don't think a beautiful wardrobe of shoes matters when there's nothing to go on top. Speaking of top, don't get me started. I sincerely believe I am within five lbs and realize that it does take time, but I need my jeans. I refuse to spend money on new ones at this point out of sheer stubbornness. My wardrobe is taking a major hit without denim. I can't wear sweats to work every day. I remember thinking it took about six months for things to feel normal on my body again, but that six months is still two and a half work months away. Shit! I constantly remind myself that all of this is worth it, and it is. It totally is, but I tend to lose sight of that when I'm standing in my closet, bawling for 45 minutes, cursing at my husband for having zero sympathy, late to Christmas dinner because there's nothing that can possibly fit my post-baby body. F*&K!

But Charlotte...Charlotte is an absolute dream girl. She is insanely spoiled - I can barely put her down, and that's just the way she likes it. When she's ready to get out of her swing or seat and she fusses a bit, she immediately laughs when I pick her up, as if to say, "Ha! I got you!" I love her kicking and excitement when she sees me! I almost forgot the joy that a little baby can bring with her discoveries and personality. Of course Jack has been delighting us with his tooting ("it's firetrucks!"), going to the bathroom ("I fell in the pee water, Mom"), recent infatuation with Luke Skywalker (sunglasses on, "I'm Skywalker" - even though he's never seen the show ??), apparent new hobby of peeing in the sink (?!?), filling the sink ("swimming pool") with cat food and water, to reasons why he should not eat boogers (he doesn't, but said, "what if I get hungry?"). The child is a pistol.

Charlotte makes up for it in coolness. Sleeps like a dream and wakes up smiling. How could I not enjoy waking up to a face like hers? She is finding her voice - yelling and squealing - and has even rolled from front to back. Obviously a genius child. To my horror, I think she is teething. How is this happening so fast? I am not prepared for this. My daughter! daughter! ...already pushing four months in the blink of an eye. I haven't decided yet who she looks like. I think she just looks like her darling little self with a bit of her mom's nose and her brother's wild hair (also inherited from her mother). I can't wait to see who she looks like, who she is, yet I want her to stay a snugly baby forever.

And finally, some photos...the "swimming pool" and a few other candids of the kiddos...


The final picture is obviously a cop car parade in the refrigerator...Jack puts things in there to keep them safe from Maddie, and just because he likes playing in the fridge in general (it's where all of his "deliveries" are when he plays mailman. I've gotten many applesauce, jello, mustard, and cream cheese packages).

**Editor's note...I totally jinxed him.

I'm trying to balance work and two kids, the guilt that comes along with being home for the last three months and suddenly leaving them. I hate it. I love a paycheck and I love using my brain for adult conversation and tasks, but I miss my kiddos. I will say, some bad habits can develop over the course of a long maternity leave. For one thing, there's only so much you can do with a two-year old and a newborn when it's cold out, and I became an expert at every show on Nick, Jr. I know every show that's on HGTV and I was briefly obsessed with Ellen DeGeneres (I really miss her and really think we could be besties). And no, I don't need to eat every single time I'm nursing Charlotte - or do I? What's another handful of Cheez-its when you are married to your sweats? But I digress. It's the first week back to work and I'm not happy about it. I find myself wondering if it's real. Did I ever actually leave? It's like summer vacation - once you step back into the school, it's a distant memory. I sometimes think I am still pregnant and thought I saw my former big-bellied self in a window reflection.

Charlotte is a dreamy little gal who is at her chattiest in the morning (probably because she actually sleeps!!!) and loves to have her diaper changed (foreshadowing to an easy potty training, perhaps?). She is starting to holler and laugh and I love it. She is such an easygoing baby - how did we get so lucky? Two fantastic babes! Jack is finally agreeing to go to the bathroom...could it be the Diego underwear? Maybe it's the Pop Rocks that hubby has turned him onto when he goes alone. Either way, I'm at the point where I'd feed him sugar cubes just to be done with it, so I think we're almost there!

Speaking of Jack. He is not interested in sharing his parents with little Charlotte. Don't get me wrong, he treats her wonderfully, but the brunt of his frustration is now taken out on mom. He is no longer mama's boy, but daddy's. He talks back. He hits things. He even told me I was going to get my ass spanked. Very nice. Especially considering ass is the one cuss word that hasn't slipped out in front of him, so I'm wondering where he heard it. I don't want him to hate me and I know he doesn't, but it hurts. Just the other morning he was laying with hubby and I came in to kiss him, he said, "Don't bother us, Mommy." Sob. This morning I brought him milk and he said, "I want Daddy to bring the milk, not you." Sob sob. I cried to hubby but he doesn't get it. He didn't nurse the child for a year, wake up with him every two hours for almost a year, cry at work when he left him for the first time, pump milk every day at work for a zillion days, sing the KU alma mater and any other song he wanted at bedtime (I'm no longer wanted at bedtime now, apparently), carry him everywhere, even while nine months pregnant because I wanted to hold him for as long as possible, and sneak into his bedroom long after he was sleeping just to see him one last time...I could go on, but then I'd be crying even harder. Like any mother, I will keep trying, keep loving, and keep waiting for him to come back around.