I’ve given up on writing you individual letters. I have the very best of intentions, but time is a precious commodity these days and writing one letter to you both makes more sense.

Mad, let’s start with you. You’re three and a half years old. You’ve mastered the arts of negotiation, stalling and extortion. You’re fully prepared for your teenage years or a seat in Congress.

Our life has changed pretty drastically in the last three months. Sam has disrupted our routine and thrown everything for a loop, but you’re handling it like champ. You’ve never once shown any jealousy or ill will toward Sam. You rush to see what’s wrong when he’s upset, you love to wake him up in the morning and play with him. You’re a fabulous big sister and Sam is lucky to have you.

Maddie, you’re such a wonderful girl. Sure you get on my every last nerve, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re loving, funny, insane, creative and a whirlwind of activity. You never stop moving or talking. You even talk in your sleep, baby girl. I look at you and can hardly believe that you’re the same little baby I nurtured three years ago. I had no idea that you’d grow into such an awesome little kid.

Sammy Sam, you’re pretty stinkin’ awesome, too. You’re fat and roly poly and so happy. Unless you’re not being held or entertained. Left to your own devices, you scream like you’re being tarred and feathered. Recently you’ve become incredibly verbal. There’s a real laugh about to explode out of you at any moment. I cannot wait! Maddie’s first laugh is one of my most precious memories.

You’re quite the Senor Kickypants these days. Your little legs are hardly ever still. You’ve discovered your hands and watch them so intently that you go cross-eyed. Which is adorable and creepy at the same time. Anytime someone makes eye contact with you, you smile your huge, wet grin at them. Your eyes crinkle with delight when you see me over your crib rail for night feedings. It almost makes up for the fact that you wake me up WAY TOO OFTEN to eat at night. ALMOST.

You two are the most frustrating, crazy-making, delightful, wonderful people in the world. I love you more than you’ll ever know.

Love,
Mama

So, Maddie’s smart. Like, wicked smart. Like “the pediatrician labeled her a genius” and “her preschool director called me and asked permission to move her up a class this fall” smart. This is no surprise to us, of course. When she was younger, we’d see her do or hear her say something and look at each other and wonder “do other kids her age do/say this kind of stuff?” As we became better acquainted with kids her age, we realized the answer was “no.” Don’t get me wrong; she’s not some kind of scary prodigy that’s destined to graduate Cornell at the age of 14. However, she’s smart enough that we need to have a game plan on how to handle it, y’know?

First of all, we’ve decided not to tell her that she’s wicked smart. Who needs that kind of pressure? Instead, when she’s tried to do something, regardless of whether she succeeds or fails, we applaud the effort she gave. When I was still pregnant with her we read a study that said that linking praise to success can lead to kids feeling like a complete failure if they don’t succeed. That the only good outcome is winning. I don’t care if she comes home with a D- in Algebra if a D- is the best she can do. If she sweat for that D-, then it’s as good as an A to me. If she’s lazy and doesn’t apply herself and still gets a B-, then I’m not as thrilled. So, we focus on the effort she extends, not the outcome.

We also try to strike that precious balance between providing opportunities for her to learn vs. ramming it down her throat. For example, she’s *this close* to reading and I credit it to starfall.com. We started going through the alphabet on the site with her about a year and a half ago, maybe two years. And not for any other reason than it entertained her. She loves to sit in our laps with the MacBook and surf the ‘net. We figured we ought to balance out the kitty videos on YouTube with something vaguely educational. She ended up preferring starfall to anything else. Honestly, her being able to read this early is completely an accident on our part.

Now that we realize what we’re working with as far as her potential is concerned, things seem a little more daunting. Gerald and I were both gifted as kids and completely squandered it, albeit for different reasons. I was lazy and HATED homework so I never did it. I barely graduated high school despite scoring insanely high on ACT. (That score was the only reason I was accepted into college.) Gerald, on the other hand, was misdiagnosed as learning disabled and wasn’t given the chance to prove otherwise until high school. By then, he was so disillusioned with the entire academic world that he blew off college entirely. (Ironically, he now works for one of the best universities in the country.) We both desperately want to avoid these situations with Maddie. We don’t want to send her to public school for two main reasons: 1. The public school system in Texas SUCKS ASS. Seriously, we’re at the bottom of the barrel. 2. The possibility that she’ll fall through the cracks is astronomical. Teachers are spread too thin, paid too little and expected to do too much to be able to pay attention to each of their students and their respective potential. This, of course, leaves us with two options: We can send her to private school and hope that the smaller class size equals more one-on-one attention, or we can homeschool her.

Currently, the state of Texas doesn’t require any sort of registration or certification to homeschool a child. It’s easy to get into and there are plenty of co-ops in our area so the issue of social development is moot. My big concern is that I’m simply not smart enough to keep up with her. I can get her through college-level reading and science, but math? Not so much. I am completely, hopelessly, embarrassingly bad at math. (This is because I tend to think logarithmically and not by integers, but whatev.) How am I supposed to teach her shit I can’t do? Also, will I go batshit crazy being around her and Sam 24/7? (Answer: YES.)

I guess it’s time to figure it all out. She’s in the kindergarten prep preschool class this year so we need to have a plan in place for next year. I swear, these kids are going to be the death of me. If it’s not “feed me! entertain me! provide shelter!” it’s “educate me!” and “help me live up to my potential without becoming That Kind of Parent!”

Anyhow, Maddie’s eating breakfast and watching Curious George and Sam’s still in bed, so I’m going to write until one of them loses their respective shit.

* Maddie’s completely potty trained (during the day). It was a rough four or five days, but we made it through and my girl’s been a champ. If only we could stop the Tour of All Public Restrooms We Encounter, things would be perfect.

* Speaking of, I think this is the ideal time to teach Mad about “private parts.” At church the other night, she started pulling her shorts and underpants down in the hallway outside of the bathroom. Right now, she has no concept of private parts. Hers or mine or Dad’s or Sam’s. We’ve always been very matter of fact about genitalia and treat it like, say, an elbow, when bathing. I want to inspire modesty not shame and I’m unsure of how to go about it. Do any of you have any advice on the matter?

* It’s been 2 years since my gastric bypass. Even with a pregnancy in there, I’ve maintained my weight loss. I’ve lost 145lbs from my starting weight right before surgery and 160lbs from my heaviest. I’d like to lose 20 more pounds, but I’m not stressing about it. I wear a size 12 and a medium and I’m happy with that. I do, however, HATE myself naked. The extra skin! The shar pei wrinkles! The boobs that can be tucked into my waistband! It’s nothing that $40k worth of plastic surgery can’t fix and I look all right in clothes, so I guess it’s not so bad. I need to have Gerald take pictures and I’ll post comparative shots.

* BlogHer ’10 is next weekend and I’m not going. I’ve known for almost a year that I wouldn’t be attending and it’s still upsetting. I had such a wonderful time last year and it makes me heartsick to know that I’ll be missing it this year. And New York City! I’ve never been! I’m trying to be happy for my besties that are going, but it’s hard not to feel sorry for myself. I keep telling myself that while I can’t afford to go to BlogHer, I get to stay home with my kids instead of working 40 hours a week and sending them to daycare. Although, that’s hardly a plus some days, amirite?

Well, I’m halfway through my list of topics and Maddie desperately needs me to pretend to be The Man with the Yellow Hat. I got further than I thought I would.

I know that all the “experts” say not to rush potty training and to let your kid decide when they’re ready, but my kid doesn’t fit the mold. She’s completely able to use the potty. As a matter of fact, she’s done it quite a few times in the past. She likes the convenience of diapers and, frankly, she’s lazy. She also uses the whole potty training situation as a chance to exert control.

She’s at the top end of the weight limit for size 4 diapers, so I told her that she’s gotten too big for her diapers and that’s as big as they get. We’ve been talking for weeks about this and that she’s going to have to start using the potty and wearing her underpants.

So far this morning we have 100% success. And by that, I mean she was happy to wear her underpants and hasn’t had an accident yet. She also hasn’t gone to the bathroom, either, so take that with a grain of salt.

I guess this goes to show that the expert opinion is usually right for most kids, but sometimes you just have to do what you think is right for your kid.

Maddie still adores him. She wants to feed him and burp him and hold him and hug and kiss him. (“I will hug him and squeeze him and call him George!”) She’s super helpful and loves to put his pacifier back in his mouth for the 8793485734 time in an hour or run to his room and get me yet ANOTHER burp cloth for Spitty McPukesalot.

I managed to take both kids to a playdate with my new mom’s group this morning. It went Very Well and I feel like some kind of Super Mom. We came home, both kids had lunch and now they’re napping. I feel like just maybe I might get the hang of this. (Which we all know is the worst possible thing I could’ve written because now The Universe must smite me for my prideful boast and my life will be a complete shit storm for the next week as punishment.)

And just because it makes me laugh every damn time I see it, here’s a picture of Maddie nursing her dinosaurs. She refuses to play with any of her baby dolls and instead nurtures the hell outta these guys. It’s sweet and twisted all at the same time.

* Thank you very much for your sympathy and empathy on the whole “older child is driving me batshit crazy” sitch. It helped IMMENSELY to know that other moms felt the same way when their second child was born. I was feeling very much like an unfit mother. Now, I still feel that way, but in a “normal” sense.

* I’m recovering nicely. I’ve been off the pain meds since the day after we brought Sam home. My swelling and bruising are just about gone and so far my incision has stayed completely closed. SCORE! Also, I weigh five pounds less than I did when I got pregnant. (Don’t hate me. I only gained 13 pounds over the pregnancy.)

* We’ve made the decision to breastfeed AND bottle feed Sam. I realized that nursing exclusively was wicked difficult with a toddler around. And Sam takes about 1.5 hours to nurse (LITERALLY. No hyperbole, people.) and that’s just way too much of my day taken away with another child to tend to. So, I nurse him once or twice a day and he gets a bottle for the other feedings. I realize this makes me unpopular with the “breast is best” nazis, but it’s the best decision for my family at this point in time and I’m happy with it. Maddie was almost exclusively formula fed and has turned out just fine so I know I’m not doing Sam any long-term harm.

* Sleep deprivation is causing my temper to simmer right on the surface, but so far the hormonal roller coaster hasn’t been too bad this time around. The Z0loft is definitely helping keep Teh Crazy at bay.

* We’re settling into our new routines and finding the things that work for us. It’s a HUGE readjustment and sometimes kind of a pain in the ass, but I’m praying it’ll all be worth it one day.

D’oh.

I was woefully unprepared for Maddie’s acting out for attention. And not just anyone’s attention. Mine. I thought with her dad and her Nana here to lavish her with attention that she’d gravitate toward them instead of being such a mama’s girl. I honestly thought this would be when she turned into the famous southern “daddy’s girl.”

Negatory.

Sitting in the living room with her father and grandmother, she will scream for me to come and help her with something. She follows me everywhere. She’s not listening and being kind of bratty. I’ve made lots of time to spend with her one-on-one, but I get so frustrated with her constant acting out. I feel like I spend the whole time fussing at her and I HATE it.

I’m smack in the middle of postpartum hormone hell and it all seems to be directed at my precious little girl. I’m head over heels in love with Sam and marvel at how EASY it is to take care of him. Sure, I’m up every two hours at night, but I can make him happy. He’s not bossing me around or talking to his elders with a snotty-ass tone of voice or blatantly disregarding rules. I don’t want to prefer one child over the other, damn it. I want Maddie to feel secure and loved and included. I have no idea what to do to help this. We let her hold and feed Sam whenever she wants to. I offer to play with her and take her on errands just the two of us. Nothing seems to curb her desire for more attention and negative attention at that.

Those of you with more than one child, can you PLEASE give me some advice? I’m drowning over here.

I may be a little biased, but tell me that’s not the cutest girl in the whole wide world.

I was admitted but I got to come home on Sunday. However, I’m now on Strict Ass MoFo Bed Rest (note: not an actual medical term). I’m allowed to go to the bathroom, spend an hour once or twice a week outside my house and that’s about it. And the best part? Since my FedEx delivery on Friday we can’t afford to pay for daycare for the girl. I’m incapable of caring for my daughter and incapable of paying for someone else to do so. Parenting FAIL of epic proportions. Our saving grace came in the form of Gerald’s mom and Aunt. They were still in town and volunteered to take Maddie back to southern Texas with them for the next two weeks. It’s a burden for them, but they’re willing to do whatever they can to help us. How lucky are we to have family like that?

Of course, I’m wrestling with a metric ass-load of guilt over this. I can’t gestate my unborn son properly, I can’t care for the child I already have, I can’t work, I can’t keep my house, etc. I feel like one big, giant fail. I miss my girl and feel so bad that I had to ship her off so that I can lay on my effing left side 95% of the day. Will she think I wanted to get rid of her in favor of the baby? Will she even care at all? I can’t decide which is worse. GAH!

Anyhow, I figure I’ll give myself a few days of pity partydom and then suck it up and do what I gots tah do. Which is, you know, nothing.

The ENT said that it’s fairly obvious to him that Maddie’s reinfecting herself and it’s not coming from outside sources. Her tonsils looked ok yesterday, but the lymph nodes that they drain into are distended from being filled so often. She’s got fluid built up behind one eardrum and the other is protracted. The ENT believes she’ll benefit greatly from having a tonsillectomy, adenoidectomy and ear tubes placed. This doesn’t come as a total surprise, but still.

It’s a day surgery, so that’s nice. And she’ll need about a week to recover. We’re going to go ahead and have it done right away so that she can have undivided attention during recovery instead of dealing with a new baby at the same time.

I saw my OB this afternoon for a follow-up. Things are going well. He reduced the amount of procardia that I’m taking and relaxed some of my restrictions. So, YAY! for that. I go back in two weeks for a full blood work-up and sonogram. I’m still taking it easy because as much as I’d like to explode in a flurry of activity, I sure as hell don’t want to end up in the hospital for the next six weeks, you know? Although, it was pretty damn nice being waited on hand and foot and not having a kid running around like some kind of deranged hellbeast. OH! OW! Contractions! I’d better get to the hospital right away! (Think Gerald will fall for it?)