Cody the Grouch

Well, it's been a tough couple of days at the Last household. However, before complaining, I should focus on the positive. There have been several significant triumphs -- namely, that for two days in a row now, I have managed to get both kids to nap at the same time, and instead of napping in the swing, as she has been doing all the time, I've gotten Cordy down in her cradle!! I know it's still too early to do sleep training--and once she hits 4 months or so and realizes I am actually leaving the room we'll have to start all over--but it doesn't hurt to establish good habits. She, like her brother, is a champion sleeper. And at least for the moment, she has fallen into roughly the same nap/bedtime schedule as Cody (would that HE took three naps!). This is great in theory, but in practice, it's not so great when they both need me at the exact same moment during bedtime.

Her brother has been having a tougher time. It just breaks my heart to see him struggling, yet grates on my nerves to listen to him whining. We are trying to keep it all light and positive, but we don't always pull it off. There are some wonderful days -- generally sunny days when he can be outside running around a lot, or weekends when there is one of us for each of them. There were a couple of downright glorious days when Granny was here -- it is amazing how much difference two more hands can make. And I'm fairly certain Mom doesn't believe me when I tell her Cody is being a grouch or throwing tantrums or refusing to eat, etc. He's a total gem for her (and has undivided attention) and besides, she is incapable of finding fault with him. This is the greatest trait a grandparent can possess (don't I know it!). Anyway, they had a great visit:




Lately, we have been going outside early on Mondays and Thursdays to watch the garbage trucks do their thing. We then set off in the stroller for an early-morning "garbage truck hunt," which is just about as amazing and awesome and stinky and fantastic as it sounds, provided you are a two-year-old boy. He has become fascinated the the concept of trash permanence -- he likes to hear (and then repeat) about all the things that go into the trash, and then, once they are "crushed in the HOPPER, Mommy!" go away...forever. He tells me all the time about how sock/toe fuzz, diapers, boxes, nose gunk, q-tips, tissues, etc. are all going to go into the trash can, into the hopper, and "THEN THEY ARE ALL GONE, MOMMY!!!" with great excitement.

All of which leads me to what he said this morning: "Daddy? Please can we throw Cordelia in the garbage, please?"

Tomorrow is Thursday. Trash pickup day. The saddest and sweetest part is that he was so careful to use his good manners, clearly hoping that would seal the deal.

I found myself humming the Litany of the Saints all morning. "Holy Mary, Mother of God...pray for us." Serenity NOW!

8:11 pm UPDATE: Complete and utter bedtime fiasco. For both children. Two steps forward...three steps back? : )