You Always Turn Into Your Parents

There is something about how your parents raised you that you can never escape. And it seems as though it is always those things you hated most as a child that become part of your own parenting M.O. One of the things I remember hating as a child was going to look at houses. (This was something I eventually grew to love, but as an 8 year old it was not my idea of a fun time). My parents used to buy trashed houses and then we would fix them up and rent them out. Every weekend we would go look for the next deal. The houses always smelled like cat and dog pee. Sometimes they were so bad Mom and Dad made us wait in the car.

I always assumed that I would one day subject my own children to that, but I certainly didn't think it would happen before they turned two.

This past weekend we went to look at a bunch of foreclosures that are going to be actioned off in two weeks. Nana, Opa, Odin, Natalia and I all stuffed ourselves in the car and went off in search of the next disgusting Graff-Baker investment.

I had a great time. We walked around 7 different houses. Okay, I walked around 7 different houses. Natalia walked around 6. I mean really, it wouldn't be a good find a fixer-upper weekend if there wasn't one house that requires children to stay in the car. This one wasn't that bad. I didn't feel like I needed a haz-mat suit and as long as I didn't touch anything I didn't run the risk of hitting a live wire.

Natalia had a good time too. She loved running around all of the new houses, hearing her voice echo in the bathrooms. She especially loved our time at Safeway.

I always wanted one of those red and yellow plastic cars. Never told Mom and Dad that I wanted one, and therefore never got one. Maybe I'll just have to get Natalia one. Isn't that just fulfilling the second rule of parenting? After you turn into your parents, you give your kid everything you never had and always wanted. Isn't that why I got her the wooden train set?

Sharing The Backseat

Odin used to have the run of the car. Trunk space, back seat, sometimes even the passenger seat - it was all his for the taking.



Then Natalia came along and he was relegated to the back. We made it very nice, put down blankets that he could mess up, dig into, and then settle down on. We gave him treats and told him what a good boy he was.



But it didn't make it any better.



He would still try and come over.



You have no idea how fun it is be riding down one of the steepest streets in San Francisco all the while pushing (or attempting to push) a stubborn 100 lb. black lab back over a seat when his head and front paws are hanging over the front, squishing your cousin Leslie. Generally this happens around the same time that the baby starts to wake up and scream. (She wasn't a fan of the car seat.)



Anyway, I digress. We have been working with Odin on staying in the way back for the past 20 months.



It is clear that our work has been quite successful. Call me if you want help training your dog too.

I Came Home To A New Little Girl

I spent last weekend in Vegas for my friend Annie's 30th birthday. It was the first time I had been away from Natalia for any length of time. 47 hours to be exact. I made it, but there were times when I wasn't so sure. Thanks to great girlfriends, room service, and lots of dancing, I held myself together. But barely.

Natalia, on the other hand, seemed to have a WONDERFUL weekend with Nana and Opa. I returned to a very happy little girl who had learned something like 25 new words.

Seems she had a blast. There was lots of dancing and singing and trying on Mom and Ama's kimono's. Nana was very cute and recorded everything they did - time, place, reaction, words. I will post little snippets this weekend.

There must have also been a lot of photo shoots, because Natalia has now perfected the "I'm so over it" model pose.

Milk Does A Body Good

I have been remiss in not writing. I'm sorry if you feel I abandoned you. I have thought of all of you often, logging on, excited to see if I finally updated. I have been completely bogged down by the process of weaning.

(If you are not interested in hearing about this weaning process I speak of, I suggest you click over to some other blog and come back on Monday, when I'll be back from a weekend in Vegas and full of stories about my first two nights away from my precious little pumpkin.)

Natalia has been fortunate to have had complete and unfettered access to the boob at all times of her little life. Feeding on demand has been the name of the game for this little girl. It worked well for me to until she started using me more as a pacifier and less as a source of food. So I decided that, come the first of the year, I was going to cut back on the feedings.

Being one who does tends to always do things out of order (have Natalia and THEN try and get Geovanny here - seriously, who in their right mind would do it in that order?) I decided to cut out the night feedings. It had gotten to the point that I wasn't really sleeping any more. I mean really, how easy is it to toss and turn in bed when you have a 25 pounder attached to you. I'm all for not waking a sleeping baby, but when it consistently gets in the way of Mommy sleeping, something has to change.

And change it did.

Neither Natalia nor I would be considered stubborn. No, not at all. Never. So I'm sure it comes as a big surprise that cutting out the feedings quickly became a battle of the wills. Who would cave first?

Would Natalia tire of screaming her lungs out, pulling at my shirt, and begging for "boob boob"? Would she decide to peacefully go back to sleep?

Or would I give in to her pitiful wailing, her ear drum splitting shrieks, and her trying to nurse through my t-shirt?

Turns out neither of us gave up.

After two weeks we have settled, begrudgingly into some kind of routine. She wakes up, begs for "boob boob". I offer her agua, milk, or a massage. She says, "NOOOOOOOO!!!!! BOOB BOOB!!!!" I offer her agua, milk, or a massage. She again kindly responds with, "NOOOOO. BOOB BOOB!!!" We have this exchange for a few minutes until she decides on either agua or milk. Sometimes she throws in "Potty, Poo poo" and off we go to the bathroom.

Needless to say, I am more tired now that I was when she was a newborn. (Possibly less sleep and none of that adrenaline pulsing through me now.)

So I'm sorry for not posting. I promise to do better.

At least as soon as I get home from Vegas.