Dear Target...

Dear Target, 

Let me start this by saying, I love you. I truly do. You're a "happy place" for me. You're my escape when the weather is crap and I just need to get out of the house and do something. For the most part, you treat me well. Stuff like Cartwheel, you really know how to make a coupon-clipping savvy shopper swoon. But, as in any healthy relationship, I need to be able to air my grievances. Let me do so now, all the while knowing we'll always still be friends. We'll always have each other. 

My first complaint, dear Target, is that while your strategic end caps and displays fill me with joy, they also rob me of my money. Stop it. I enter your sacred halls knowing full well that the only items on my shopping list are diapers, shampoo, and tissues, yet your display of toddler clothing convinces me that life as I know it will end if I don't buy my sweet girl that top and those skinny jeans. They're 10% off on Cartwheel. They're adorable. And she's adorable. I see what you're doing, there... Still, before I know it, the outfit is in my cart. 

Secondly, you really need more of those two-seater carts. When there aren't any available (and I swear you've only got one or two) I basically have only two options:

1. Put my toddler in the seat, and put my baby in his car seat in the basket of the cart. Then I have no room for anything in my cart except maybe one or two very small items. (Although quite inconvenient, that would solve the over-spending problem I guess!) Or...

2. Put my baby in the seat and give my toddler the cart space. This is what I had to do today because I had a long shopping list and couldn't possibly get what I needed with the baby in his car seat. But this poses another problem... While I have room for more than one or two tiny items in the cart, this situation leaves said items completely exposed to the whims of my "spirited" toddler. Then I have to apologize to strangers after she opens the box of tampons and starts throwing them (yes, this happened). 

For the love of the families with multiple children who spend every hard-earned dime in your stores, get more multiple seat carts, or I'm going to have to start shopping at Wal-Mart. And I hate Wal-Mart. (It's just an empty threat, Target, I'll never really leave you...) 

Lastly, your "buy 3 get a $5 gift card" deals. My sensible side tells me that I do not, in fact, NEED three cans of air freshener at once, but my other side says "But it's a free five dollars I can put toward diapers!" So I come back, and of course spend way more than five dollars. Well played, Target... Well played. 

Like I said, Target, I love you. I just needed to be heard. See you tomorrow. 

Pictures

We officially have two mobile children! Dear sweet mother of pearl help us... 

Love bugs. 

This beautiful boy melts my heart! 

Time with my favorite boy while sister is napping! 

The best shot I could get of bat-girl running around in her daddy's old batman cape! 

"You've got to grab that little bull by the horns..."

I received a wonderful compliment the other day. 

"I really admire your parenting style."

Me: "*snort* You mean cluelessness with a side of winging-it?" 

I can't help it, that's how I respond to any and all sorts of compliments. That part of my personality still hasn't matured yet, I guess. 

Anyhow, despite uttering a strange little bemusement and brushing it aside, I was incredibly touched. 

On the outside my parenting style, fueled by love and caffeine, may seem relaxed, firm when needed, and fun-loving. But the truth is, I fight my own inner authoritarian parent on a daily basis. This relaxed façade is covering a deeply rooted need to control my daughter's every move in order to squeeze her into the mold I have already picked out as the little person I want her to be. I fight the urge to correct her every little misstep and mistake. I fight the urge to make her do things my way. I have to. Or life would be miserable, and our home would be nothing but a constant battleground. I love my daughter so much, why would I want to be constantly fighting with her? You see, I have a strong-willed child... 

I feel like that's something that could be stated in a group therapy session.

"Hello, my name is Hollie..."

"Hi, Hollie!"

"...And I have a strong-willed child." 

Some people may think that saying one has a strong-willed child is just a way to make an excuse for bad behavior and/or poor parenting. Those people, who do exist- trust me, must either 

A.) Not have kids 

B.) Not have strong-willed kids or

C.) Be in complete denial

I feel like when you have a strong-willed child, you can make one of two choices... You can either have a never-ending battle of wills until one of you breaks, or you can let go of the insignificant things that don't matter, and search for compromise wherever it can be found. 

That being said, I have to fight myself every day to choose the latter. I am unyielding on manners, and I am unyielding on being hurtful to others. But everything else, Emma and I navigate together, with me doing my best to guide her. 

Of course, I have to put my foot down frequently because, let's face it, toddlers are crazy. There is no compromise when it comes to throwing toys at her brother. There is no compromise when it comes to base-jumping from the changing table. But I can compromise on a lot more than she can. She can brush her teeth however she wants, as long as she lets me give them a good cleaning too. She can dump all of her crayons out of the box, as long as she puts them all back when she's done. If she refuses to wear a shirt, I let it go if we're just hanging at home anyway. I often have to meet her halfway. Of course it annoys me that she has to dump all the crayons out, but I'm not willing to fight over something so unimportant. Because it would be a fight. 

That's the thing about strong-willed children, toddlers especially; they're power-mad. At the first sign of losing control, a battle ensues. And I hold the ultimate power. I have the high ground. I can choose to engage in battle (which happens from time to time, believe me) or I can choose to let go of MY little hang-ups, and diffuse the situation with some carefully worded guidance or, my favorite tactic, distraction and redirection.

This does not mean my daughter gets away with doing whatever she wants because I don't want to deal with her. This means I choose not to spend every hour of our lives fighting, by setting strong boundaries and limits, and letting her have the independence and decision making she craves, within reason. 

It's hard. It's SO. HARD. Two years on this crazy train and I still get it wrong a lot. I pick the wrong battles and we both end up in tears. And I worry constantly. I worry that I'm not applying enough discipline. I worry I'm applying too much discipline and she hates me. I worry she won't respect me. I worry about battles yet to come. And worst of all, I worry about what other people think. That's why it was such a huge compliment for me when someone else commended my parenting. Parents of strong-willed children, we need support. We need judgement-free zones and understanding friends. It helps to have a mother who also raised (successfully, even?) a strong-willed child ;). We need to be told we're doing a good job by fighting the good fights and letting everything else go. 

Perhaps parents of mild-tempered children have the same struggles and worries (I honestly don't know!) but when Emma and I are in the heat of battle I find myself thinking "Parents of easy-going children must have so much fun all the time... this sucks!" And then comes the never ending guilt from thinking it. Because I would not change Emma's intense, strong personality and tendencies for anything in the world. They will serve her well one day. 

I've been told, "You've gotta grab that little bull by the horns!" And that is correct, I do. But my job is to steer her, not dominate her. 

It will get easier as her communication improves, it will get easier as she observes me applying the same rules and restrictions to her brother, and it will get harder when hormones come into play. 

So, for now, I'm grabbing this little bull by the horns, and hanging on for dear life. 

It's a crafty kind of day!

I am crafting with glitter. And yes, I'm wearing gloves. 

And this is why.

Ahhhhhh! An outbreak! Containing a glitter spill is like trying to contain measles in a world full of anti-vaxxers. Ahh haha. At least I crack myself up :P 

The finished product! It's a timeout bottle for the little hot-headed, temperamental and emotional creature that is my daughter. It's full of water, clear tacky glue, fine glitter, glitter glue, and confetti stars. When she's in the heat of a tantrum, I can shake this baby up, plunk her down with it, and let the swirly-twirly-sparkly magic entrance her long enough to cool her jets so I can *attempt* to navigate those things I think they refer to as "teachable moments" :) 

Here's where I got the instructions to make it: 

http://youtu.be/687Ww8Y3oeM

Can't wait to try it out! 

Bahahaha NOPE! Just kidding. I totally can. Emma's a formidable opponent. 

Anyway, it turned out so well, I made a second one! That way we'll have two for when THAT day arrives. [No, no way... Not my sweet Rory!] 

I also got everything I need today to make a little craft I've had up my sleeve for Emma for quite some time... I got all of the fabric remnants and scraps I need to make her a rag tutu, or a "scrappy skirt". 

I dug through the remnants bins at a couple of craft stores, and I didn't pay more than $3 for any of them! Most were less than a dollar! Just goes to show that fun crafts and cute homemade fashions don't have to break the bank! I'm getting ahead of myself here, though... Let's just see how it turns out! 

But the little project of the day I am most excited about, is this one... 

That's right. This means we're just a LITTLE bit closer to having only ONE kid in diapers! :D 

Whew! What a day. Time now to dial back my creative side and start thinking about sleep :) 

On a side note, however, lots of conversing with dear sweet Emma-bug today, which means I've got just about enough material for Emma Speaks [Vol. 2]... 

It Fixes Everything

Two things.

I went to the grocery store for two things- baby food, and yogurt. 

But then... This one kid, oh this sweet curly-haired little boy who looked like he really earned it, strolled past us with the biggest, baddest, most obnoxious looking ice cream cone I have ever seen. Rainbow jimmies and everything.

Well, I braced myself. I silently steeled my nerves for the oncoming storm of whining, begging, and tears. I knew she saw him and his almost cartoon-like ice cream cone. 

But nothing. I waited a good five seconds, and she hadn't made a sound.

That's when I made a very grave mistake. 

Eye contact.

There she was, gazing up at me with giant Disney Princess eyes and chubby cheeks. It was like looking at the physical embodiment of hope.

"Emma I-ceam too, Mumma?" Then the little con-artist knew just what to say to seal the deal before I even had a chance to mount any sort of defense. "Oh peeeeeeeeeease?" 

I have never in her two years of existence heard her ask so calmly and sweetly for anything. 

The girl knows how to play me like a fiddle. 

So we left the grocery store with baby food, yogurt, and chocolate ice cream. I don't know exactly what charmed her this evening, but she even waited patiently until we were through with dinner before claiming her prize. 

Rory had finished his jar of strained peas and started to complain [can't blame the kid there] and what does his dear, sweet big sister do? Extend a giant spoonful of the good stuff toward her brother- "here go baby, I-ceam!"

You get it from your mother, my sweet... In my world, too, ice cream fixes everything. 

Emma Speaks [Vol. 2]

Me: *sitting on the couch, truly doing nothing, Emma toddles over...*

Emma: [patting me on the cheek] "Shhhh. Good little mumma." 

O_o

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*Emma brings Goodnight Moon over to me and plunks down on my lap*

Me: "In the great green roo-"

Emma: [turning around and putting her hand over my mouth] "Mumma, Mumma... Shhh. I weading." 

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*I had just sat down with Rory and a bottle, Emma starts climbing up on his jumparoo, I warned her not to sit in it, but of course she ignored my advice*

Emma: "Mumma! Hewp! I stuck!" 

Me: "I can't help you until I'm done feeding Rory. Looks like you're just going to have to be stuck."

Emma: "How dare you..."

DISCLAIMER! This one sounds über sassy... BUT... I have kind of inadvertently taught her that particular phrase, always in a joking manner, like when she farts on my lap or something [yes, cute little girls with pigtails do things like that, too] And yes, perhaps it was just a fluke that she happened to use it in very fitting context, however, she's kind of an evil genius who never ceases to surprise us. 

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Emma: [grabbing my face in both hands] "Yisten!" 

I wait several seconds

Me: [whispering] "What am I listening for?" 

Emma: [whispering back] "all the eyes..."

Because THAT'S not creepy at all... 

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*Rory was in his jumparoo, they had both just gotten up from naps, Emma was the last to get up, and she goes running over to her brother and squeezes his face*

Emma: "Morning, feetheart!" ['sweetheart', I assume?] "How was your nap?" 

All the AWWWWHs! <3

Monty Python Got It Right

"Always look on the bright side of life *little whistle-y tune*" 

This is a daunting task when your day has begun shortly after 4 am for what seems like the eight-thousandth day in a row. HOWEVER, with that jaunty little ditty currently on repeat in my head, a hot cup of coffee, and my little beasts forcing me on, onward I go. 

In the Lawson Sanitorium, our take on "when life gives you lemons" looks a little something like this... 

When the kids have you up before the birds, and the sun has yet to flash it's cheeky little grin... make pancakes. Extra time in the morning allows for the making of big, delicious breakfasts! That's "looking on the bright side", right? 

Then there's this...

Extra time in the morning also allows me a rare opportunity to straighten my hair! Which, coincidentally, makes for much easier white hair plucking! [Hmmmm... Wonder if there's any sneaky correlation between kids being up before the ass-crack of dawn and my recent influx of *not brown* hairs? Oh wait. Kids... Gray hair... Duh.] Which just reaffirms that my curly hair does wonders to conceal all manner of hair imperfections. 

BTW... Emma: "Tired. Nuggle." 

Why, I'm shocked :| 

Cups of coffee: 2

Meltdowns: 1

Naps: 0

And the day goes on...

"Mom... Squash is a verb. Not a food."

"And I refuse to eat verbs!"

"And that is why I have spat it everywhere." 

Cups of coffee: 3

Meltdowns: 3

Naps: 1 per child.

Servings of chocolate for mom: unwilling to disclose.

And still, the day goes on.

The day goes on with a totally screwed up "schedule" [*snort... schedules. I was never going to be "that mom" but, damn... Love my on-schedule days.] and that has resulted in zero break time for Ma. Emma usually naps at 1, fell asleep at 11:30 without eating lunch. So. That was doomed from the get-go. Rory took what would barely qualify as a nap late in the morning, and as of 3:15 pm, has yet to nap more than 20 minutes. Emma up at 1:30, starving of course. Run around, play at the park, counting down the minutes 'til dear sweet hubs comes home! Still... 

These two <3 

Why on earth would I need a break from these two little loves?!? 

Ugh. But I do. 

Cups of coffee: 3

Meltdowns: 5

Times I've cried: 1 

Minutes until Landon comes home: A MILLION. 

Just kidding. 

And our long, long day winds to a close ending with a "Jammie ride" :) no matter how much of my hair I pull out throughout the course of a day, these two can melt my heart in a snap. Just look at these turtle doves... 

Exciting news for the Lawson family this afternoon! A new baby cousin for our kiddos- baby girl Feller #3 was welcomed to the world today! Congratulations to Landon's cousin and her husband and 2 older daughters on sweet baby Finley! We can't wait to meet her! :)

Ahh, bedtime at last. 

YOU GUYS. I have been given a magical sleeping remedy for the rambunctious toddler who puts up a difficult fight settling down at bed time. 

https://www.perfectlyposh.com/skin-sticks/sleepy-skin-stick

Usually it's 10 books, teeth brushing, up to bed, and she tosses, turns, fidgets, blabbers, and then cries and begs for "one more song" as I try to leave her room. But not tonight! As I sang her a lullaby, I rubbed some of the sleepy sleep stick behind her little ears. She was serene... still... I actually checked her pulse just to be sure she was still okay ;) kissed her goodnight, and walked out of her room hearing a mere whisper "nigh nigh mama..." and not another peep. 

I'll take 20 sticks please! Thankyouverymuchgoodnight. 

My kids seriously can't figure out how to smile at the camera...

Emma is serious about dress-up time! 

Not quite "Emma Speaks" level, but... "Loofah on my head!" Is what she said about this poofy headband :P

Umpteen attempts, yet NO ONE can smile at the camera! Out for a "cozy ride" as Emma likes to say! 

Emma Speaks [Vol. 1]

I could post day in and day out about the ridiculous/hilarious/startling/deeply-concerning things that come out of my toddler's gap-toothed little grin, but I've decided to just compile my favorites and publish them in a series entitled "Emma Speaks"... with any luck, someday there will be "Rory Speaks" as well (granted he doesn't, you know, realize he's surrounded by certifiable nut-jobs and refuse to speak altogether out of self-preservational instincts.) 

Like I said, ridiculous/hilarious/startling/deeply-concerning. You've been warned...

*We were at a clinic picking up dressing supplies after a recent surgery I had, and were speaking to one of the very nice nurses*

Emma: "Bye!"

Nurse: "Oh, is it time for you to go?"

Emma: "Yep, bye!"

*nurse laughs*

Me: "Let's ride the elevator back down. Wasn't that fun?"

Emma: [gesturing toward the elevator] "Shall we?"

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*While making small-talk with a sweet elderly gentleman at the grocery store*

Emma: "Brudder has a fuzzy head." *Pets Rory on the head*

Elderly gentleman: "Can I feel it too?"

Emma: "Goodbye, grandpa."

Me: *facepalm*

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*Emma and I were in the kitchen baking, Rory was in the living room in his jumper, and had been fussing occasionally*

Rory: *discontented baby noises/velociraptor cries*

Emma: "Ugh! Rory!" 

[*cringe* she sounded just like me when I get frustrated with him... mental note- SHE'S ALWAYS LISTENING] 

*stomp! stomp! stomp! through the kitchen to the living room doorway*

Emma: "Hey! You! CALM DOWN!"

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*Picking up her Ernie doll and carrying him to the changing table*

Emma: "Come on Bert, [she gets them confused, it was Ernie] change your diaper!"

a few seconds later... "No arguing!"

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*I was in the kitchen and had just opened a package of fruit snacks when she comes running at me with her hands out like little stop signs*

Emma: "Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!"

Me: "I can have some of these! Who do you think bought them?"

Emma: "No. Daddy."

Me: *bewildered* "How could you POSSIBLY know that?"

Emma: "Share."

And- as they say- that's all for now, folks!

Here Goes Nothing

Write a blog instead of posting stuff ALL OVER FACEBOOK ALL THE TIME about my stinkin' kids? Alright... here goes.

Haha. Just kidding, no one has ever come right out and said that to me, but that doesn't mean they haven't thought about it. I mean, I do sometimes get a little bit self conscious that I may be "oversharing" a bit when it comes to my kids exposure in the Facebook realm, but the reasons I do are as follows:

1. We have a metric ton of family members who live very far away and don't have the opportunity to see our children, hear stories, etc. on a regular or even semi-regular basis.
2. I was taught to share my blessings and my joy, and [most of the time] my two little weirdos are just that- my ultimate blessings and joy.
3. My kids are awesome [shouldn't all parents think their kids are awesome?!?] Deal with it.

I found out I was pregnant with our [now, almost 2 year-old] daughter Emma on New Year's Day 2013, and thus sprouted the Lawson Family Tree.

Enjoy!