Equal amounts of sincerity and sarcasm

My life right now is amazing. I say this right now with equal amounts of sincerity and sarcasm. My life is amazing. We have three amazing kids and we spent the weekend at the Lake with the other Fays and came back refreshed and rejuvenated. Iris is still amazingly perfect. She's fussy at times but mostly for good reason - like mom is totally ignoring me because I've been too perfect! June has started school and loves it and I'm really loving it too. I wasn't sure how I was going to feel, but I knew for sure that June was ready to have a teacher that wasn't me. The way she idolizes teachers is almost funny. We've worked on identifying numbers for a while now, but today she came home from school and pointed out 1-5 on a poster like no one had ever explained that to her before. Goodness sakes kid. And Ruben is getting so big as well. His vocabulary is immense and he'll say things that are so darn cute it is hard not to just squeeze him tight and laugh. The other morning he burst into my room while I was still asleep to tell me he saw a "huge snapping turtle and a cormorant" on his walk with Dad and Nova. Karl's work schedule allows him to come home most days for lunch and he always gets his day off (or if he doesn't, he flexes time). He's fulfilled and I'm fulfilled as well.

My life is amazing. I talk about poop and pee WAY TOO MUCH. All day long I'm constantly asking Ruben if "he's listening to his body" and "if it is telling him to go pee." We are on day three of potty training and I'm feeling optimistic (even though it took two type one accidents and one type two accidents this morning to remember how to go on the potty). I went to June's preschool orientation the other night with all three kids while Karl had premarital counseling. I was so concerned about getting us all there on time that I didn't realize until I sat down next to my cousin Rachael that I was wearing spit-up stained capris, a incredibly wrinkly t-shirt (better than the peed upon shirt I took off before I left), uncombed hair, and a sports bra since I had no other clean bras. So here I am meeting the other parents and teachers at June's school and I look astoundingly horrible. Not to mention that I had a fussy baby who wanted to nurse and I wasn't prepared to leak through my unlined sports bra in order to feed her. June's teacher Ms. Raupp asked if anyone had volunteered to be head room parent and I raise my hand from the corner letting each parent in the room look at me and think "yikes...maybe I should volunteer to be room parent because that lady doesn't look capable of maintaining her personal toilette much less plan a decent party for our kid's preschool class." There are now three additional head room parents.

And yet....somehow...my life is amazing.

Third Time's a Charm

When I'm in public with all three kids, I get a lot of sympathetic looks (I also get a lot of looks that communicate, "seriously lady, can't you move faster...it's your own fault for getting knocked up three times"). Lovely older ladies ooh and aah and almost out of necessity, everyone asks how the baby is doing. My answer is always the same. Iris is that perfect baby everyone dreams about. She's cute and rolypoly. She smiles at everyone (even though Dad is her favorite - he's hilarious!). And she sleeps. Every once and a while she'll cry but it is always for a reason. Either she's tired, poopy, or hungry. As soon as I pick her up and try whichever thing I think she might want, she's happy and smiling again.
I actually have started questioning how I parented June and Ruben because I must have done something wrong to make them cry for no reason. Because babies don't have to cry as long as you know what they want. That is a farse of course.  Some babies cry and some babies don't, but wouldn't it be awesome if I were an amazing enough parent this time around that my baby never NEEDED to cry.

Iris is so averse to crying that at times I worry that she won't tell me if Ruben is crushing her vital organs. His favorite way to interact with Iris is to snuggle her which means laying his enormous, heavy head on her head or torso. And then he'll nuzzle his head into her body without the word gentle even entering his mind. Of course, when I catch him nuzzling too hard (every time he nuzzles it is too hard), I tell him he needs to get off Iris and then he pushes himself up to a sitting position putting all of his body weight right on her chest. It is amazing she hasn't been smothered. It's the toddler version of Of Mice and Men.

June on the other hand is already experimenting in the codependent sibling relationship. As soon as she wakes up she's ready to hold Iris.  After lunch, it's time to hold Iris. Actually, whenever she's bored or when Iris is awake, June thinks it is time to hold her sister. It is adorable. However, it goes a level deeper. For the last few weeks, June has been coming into our room in the middle of the night and sleeping on the rug next to Karl's side of the bed. He hasn't stepped on her...yet. We keep asking her why she insists on sleeping on the floor in our room (she knows she's too big for our bed), but the only answer we get is that she's lonely and wants to be around other people. Wednesday night when I was at praise team practice, June had a pretty major meltdown at bedtime letting Karl know that she was just SO LONELY. Karl tried to convince Ruben to let June sleep on his floor, but Ruben informed Karl that since we had painted the room, it was his room and not "DooDee's." So Karl hauled Iris's co-sleeper into June's room and they both slept through the night in their own room. I miss having my baby in our bedroom, but seriously, no kids in our room all night long. That is amazing.