A Girl After My Own Heart

My dad loves to tell people how, as a child, I tried to convince him that I had two stomachs: one for dinner, and a second one for dessert. So, no matter how little I ate of my dinner, I was never too full for dessert.

In comparison, Mikie seemed nothing like me. When I was pregnant with him, I threw up every time I tried to consume chocolate, no matter how small the amount. By the end of my nine months, abstaining from chocolate, I was convinced I was carrying someone else's child I will admit, since birth, he has redeemed himself. Taking after me, he now eats ice cream no matter what time of day or how cold it is outside. He drinks every last melted drop of his ice cream and then asks if he can "have a taste" of yours. Like the official tasters in a royal court. . .

Hannah on the other hand has been a chocolate lover since the beginning. She seemed to crave it in utero. I'm thankful that she doesn't have teeth, because I think she would bite us in a fit of rage every time we go to Friendly's and flaunt our frozen desserts in front of her. She literally salivates over the menu. I took these pictures on one of our recent trips:That's my girl. . . if I can't have the real thing, I'm going to eat this menu! Let's hope her lactose issues don't last beyond her first birthday. Otherwise, I'm going to buy stock in whoever makes Lactaid.

Unfortunately, I now need to figure out how my parents got around that dessert stomach argument before she can use it against me.

Love, The Trahans

Killer Baby

Before I had Mikie, I always imagined I would have two kids, spaced three years apart. Mostly because Katie and I are three years apart in age, and I think we get along well together. I feared if my kids were born too close together, the oldest would be too young to appreciate the youngest. If they were born too far apart, they wouldn't be close because they wouldn't have anything in common. . .

Then Mikie turned two, and there was no way Mike or I could muster the energy to have a second. Especially if child number two had anything near Mikie's activity level. And so, three years turned into almost five years difference in age.

I guess things do work out for the best, because, so far, Mikie and Hannah are enamored with each other. Hannah is content to watch Mikie eat, play, bathe, watch cartoons, etc. for prolonged periods of time. And Mikie is the first to try and comfort her when she cries.

I will admit, there are times Mikie wishes Hannah were older. Best example, I picked them both up from daycare in June. To make my life a little easier, Mikie's teacher walked him over to Hannah's classroom at the end of the day, so I only had to stop in one place. All the girls loved to watch Mikie entertain them each afternoon. As I loaded everyone into the car, Mikie told me that "Campbell is a baby, but she WALKS." As if to imply that we got a dud. . .In spite of the fact that Hannah can't walk, this video is a perfect example of how much fun they have together. It reminds me of the scene from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" with the Killer Bunny. She may not have huge sharp teeth, but she can drown you in drool!

Love, The Trahans

Kids Bouncing on Trampolines

I was tempted to title this "Shaken Baby Syndrome", but figured child welfare services would definitely wake me up in the morning to take away my kids. As it is, when you see the video, you may question why they haven't come already. Please note, Hannah is ecstatically happy the entire time. In fact, bouncing with Mikie is one of her favorite activities (evident by the look of hero worship plastered on her face). Actually, doing anything with Mikie or near Mikie makes her happy. I wonder how long that will last. . .

Love, The Trahans

Mikie Says the Darndest Things

By the time I arrived home with the kids last night, we were too tired to cook. So, we headed off to TGI Fridays (appropriately, since it WAS Friday). And, as with any outing with Mikie, he came up with some great one-liners.

For background, Mikie had returned from a field trip to the Mystic Aquarium where he purchased an octopus. Originally, he told us it was a squid, aptly named "Squidy". But, Krista thought it was an octopus. And, since none of us knew the difference between a squid and an octopus, Mike googled it. Squid have fins on the sides of their heads while octopi do not. And, octopi tend to be smaller than squid.

Of course, once we determined that the toy was indeed an octopus, Krista asked Mikie if it had a different name, since "Squidy" seemed inappropriate now. To which Mikie replied, "Its name is Octopussy."

After dinner, Mike was carrying Mikie out of the restaurant. For whatever reason, there was a police officer standing at the door. As we walked past him, Mikie announces amidst a fit of giggles, "I am an ice cream mobile." The officer chuckled, not really knowing how to respond. As Mike continued to drag him out of the restaurant, he yelled back "Actually, my name is Mikie Trahan." As random Friday's patrons were turning to stare and laughing, he added, "I'm expensive!" Understatement of the year. . .

Love, The Trahans

Like Mother Like Daughter

Or brother? When Mikie was born, I always said he looked like me. He obviously has Mike's coloring, but I still believe he has a lot of my facial features. However, as he has gotten older, people argue more and more that he looks exactly like Mike. Mike RARELY drives to Connecticut to pick Mikie up from daycare, so some of the staff don't know him. Each time he has gone, all I hear the next day is "Mikie looks EXACTLY like his dad" or "I had never met your husband, but as soon as he walked in, I said, 'You must be Mikie's dad'."

As any woman who carried a child around for nine months and gave birth to him, it's pretty frustrating to not get credit for doing so. All I wanted was for ONE of my kids to look like me.

In spite of Hannah having red hair, everyone tells me how much she looks like Mikie. And, I will agree that they look alike. But, I still believe she looks like me too. So, I am posting pictures to prove my point:

MomHannahMikieHannah

So, if Hannah looks like me, and Hannah looks like Mikie, does that prove that Mikie also looks like me?

Love, The Trahans

Father Michael

I will admit, in the month since we baptized Hannah, we have been so busy with sick kids, work, traveling, birthday parties, etc, that we haven't been back to church. So, we are somewhat confused as to when Mikie became so religious. Recently, he has started saying "Amen" to EVERYTHING. For example:

Mom: "Mikie, how about Dunkin Donuts for breakfast?"

Mikie: "AMEN!"

We'll have to break him of this habit before we go back to church.

Love, The Trahans

Don't Leave Home

I always said I would never have more than two kids. When you have two kids, one person can leave town and life is still manageable. After all, you have two hands, so you can still grab on to each one and keep them from running into traffic. That was before I had two kids.

Mike has been traveling for business more frequently. Since I am the one who takes the kids to daycare/camp every day, I wasn't expecting life to be any less convenient. With Mike home, my day typically consists of: wake up, get ready for work, wake up Mikie, get him ready for camp, pack lunches for both kids, wake up Hannah, get her ready for daycare, load all kids and accessories into SUV, drive 40 minutes to daycare, drop off Hannah, drive 10 minutes to camp, drop off Mikie, drive 3 minutes to work, work 8 1/2 hours, pick up Mikie, pick up Hannah, drive home, unload car, make dinner for Mikie, feed Hannah, make dinner for grown ups. By the time Mike arrives home and we have eaten, we can then divide and conquer: Mike bathes Mikie and puts him to bed; I bathe and feed Hannah and put her to bed, then Mike typically cleans up from dinner and empties everyone's lunchboxes.

So, when Mike leaves town, my schedule becomes even more complicated. Both kids have ended up in the tub together (which they both love, but is a little nerve racking since Hannah is little and slippery, and Mikie causes tidal waves with all the movement and splashing). Both kids read bedtime stories together. And, I end up doing all the dishes by myself.

On its own, all of that makes for an EXHAUSTING day. It's hard to imagine it getting any worse, right?

WRONG. On Monday evening, Hannah had a meltdown. Never in my life have I heard a cry like this. If I closed my eyes, the image it conjured up was that of someone on fire. When she would BRIEFLY stop crying, she was hyperventilating. I tried everything: food, lukewarm bath, checking her toes for hairs wrapped around them, taking her temperature, a suppository in case she was constipated, baby Tylenol in case she was teething. After two hours, I broke down and called the pediatrician, knowing they were going to have me drive to the pediatric ER 40 MINUTES AWAY.

In route, Hannah settled down and fell asleep. Before going all the way back home, I decided to stop at Target and see what happened when she woke up. As with all Target trips, I ended up buying a lot more than I intended. Probably in large part because, for the first time all night, Hannah was happy and smiling. Boy, if impulse shopping cheers her up at 4 months, we are going to have problems when she hits 16. . .

Unfortunately, the moment we left the store, Hannah was hysterical again. All the way to Worcester, through the parking garage, and into the revolving door to the ER. And, Murphy's Law, the minute we emerged in the waiting room on the other side, silence. Not just silence; after she stopped hyperventilating, she was smiling and flirting with the staff.

The resident in the ER was useless, and we went home close to midnight with no conclusive diagnosis and instructions to follow up with our pediatrician in the morning.

I fell asleep around 1:30am, only to be greeted at 6am by Mikie, announcing that he had "a barky seal cough". Surely this was a joke. He could not possibly have croup. He just got over an episode not two months ago. He must be lying in hopes of eating a popsicle for breakfast. Then, I heard him cough and realized he wasn't lying.

To recap, not 24 hours after Mike left town, I had two sick kids on my hands. Dr. Mikie was correct in his self-diagnosis of croup. And, Hannah ended up with a mild ear infection and a head cold.

And so, I have decided that, as with most of my preconceived notions on parenting, my thoughts on being able to handle two kids by myself was naive.

Thankfully, Mike is back home, and hopefully won't have to travel again soon. If so, I may seriously consider hiring a babysitter to move in for the week.

Love, The Trahans

Life as Mikie's Mom

Here is what happened today when I picked Mikie up from camp:

Mom approaches door of school. Door is locked. Mom rings doorbell and waits for teacher to let her in. Teacher comes to door. Conversation ensues:

Teacher: "Mikie gave me quite a scare today. . ."

Mom: realizing Mikie had a swim lesson "Ugh. Did he almost drown again?"

Teacher: looking at me like I was crazy "No, he locked himself in the bathroom."

Mom: laughing "Oh. Sorry, he does that at home too. Did he tell you he needed 'privacy'? I usually keep a key above all the doors so that I can pick the lock."

Teacher: "I was trying to figure out, can I shimmy this with a credit card? But I had no way to get it open. I was screaming, 'Press the button'!"

Mom: "He always opens it eventually. He locked me out of a stall at Babies 'R Us two weeks ago. . . one with a bolt. I thought I was going to have to squeeze under a stall."

Realizing that the other parents and kids were looking at me, as if to say "this isn't the way a normal parent should react", I walked off to find Mikie. I found him playing Legos on the floor in one of the classrooms. I looked and noticed that the front of his shorts were wet.

Mom: "Mikie, why are your shorts wet."

Mikie: "Kaden made me laugh and I had an accident."

Mom: "Did you tell anyone?"

Mikie: "I thought you would be mad."

Mom: exasperated "Mikie, you have to tell someone when you have an accident so that you can change your clothes."

Mikie: "Want to hear Kaden's joke? He made his frog say 'Time to tuck-in for bed.' Isn't that funny?"

Okay, I get laughing so hard you pee your pants. But, I was expecting a REALLY funny joke. In my mind, this doesn't qualify.

I changed his clothes, hustled him off to the car, and we went to pick up Hannah. But, I wonder, why does this happen to me? I see other parents walk in each morning, their kids carrying their own lunchbox. I look like a tornado hit me each morning, Mikie running into school with me walking behind, hauling lunch, changes of clothes, baseball gloves, etc. And, every evening, as if I haven't learned my lesson, I walk right back into the eye of the storm.

At least I have amusing stories to tell. . .

Love, The Trahans

What's Wrong With This Picture

On Monday, I arrived at camp to pick Mikie up. He had his first swimming lesson earlier in the day, so I wasn't surprised to find him wearing different clothes than when I left. However, I'm not sure how he managed this:

Somehow, he managed to get his shorts on backwards, in spite of the fact that the snap was snapped and the zipper was up.

None of the staff noticed, until they saw me taking his picture in the parking lot. . .

I don't know why I continue to be surprised, but I am. You would think I would be conditioned by this point. . .

Love, The Trahans

Welcome to Boston

If you love the sound of a Boston accent, look no further than the Trahan household. Yes, my worst fears have become reality. . . Mikie talks like a Mass-hole.

I can't pinpoint when or how it happened. First, it was the occassional dropped 'r', like "cah" (translation: car) and "falk" (translation: fork). Next thing I know, EVERYTHING out of his mouth that has an 'o' or 'a' now sounds like the "aw" in Yawkey Way. Some examples from this weekend. I apologize in advance because I have no idea how to represent this phonetically. . .

"Mowm" = Mom

"Take the bun awf my haut dawg" = Take the bun off my hot dog

The best is when Mikie tells "knawk-knawk" jokes (translation: knock-knock jokes). Here is an audio clip from Friday night.

Usually, his knock-knock jokes make no sense, but this one was actually wicked funny. I'm not sure if it was because of the punchline, or because of his accent.

Love, The Trahans

Moon Over Mendon

Southwick's Zoo is 15 miles from our house. While not as big as the Philadelphia Zoo, it is a pretty decent size, with most major zoo animals (giraffes, lions, tigers, elephants, rhinos, monkeys, etc.) Plus, they have a sky ride (which Mikie loves). In the three years we have been hear, Mike and Mikie have gone to the zoo two or three times. And, in the same time span, I have gone to the zoo zero times.We decided the weather was somewhat decent, so we would go to the zoo this weekend. Hannah was intrigued by all of the animals, but she was smitten with the giraffes. Mikie was on a mission to find the spider monkeys, his favorite animal. As we passed all the primates, we encountered the following monkey friend:Yes, it is a picture of his behind. I'm not sure if he mooned us because he wanted us to leave him alone, or because he thought he was funny. If you watch the video, you can see how much he LOVED mooning us. And, in case you are wondering what that obnoxious siren noise is, that is coming from the same monkey. In addition to the mayhem in the monkey house, we saw a number of other animals. And, Mikie and I enjoyed a ride on Humphrey, the Camel. His keeper informed us that his hump was filled with fat cells, not WATER (I feel deceived!)Love, The Trahans

The "Near Miss"

When my sister was a toddler (possibly even younger), we went to a company picnic hosted by my mom's employer. They had a pool, but being 4 and 1, we weren't allowed to go swimming by ourselves. I don't even think my parents brought bathing suits (my dad is allergic to chlorine and my mom probably didn't want to get her hair wet). . .

My sister had other plans. She toddled right over to the edge of the pool and went in.

Obviously, my parent's IMMEDIATELY went in after her (I was probably sitting "angelically" off to the side watching, waiting for her to get yelled at). And, she was fine (arguably annoyed that she couldn't go back in). . .

I tell you this because I have always thought Mikie and my sister were kindred spirits. I just didn't realize to what extent. . .

On Friday, the camp took the kids on a field trip to the town beach. Mikie was ECSTATIC. First, he got to ride a school bus for the first time. Second, he drove past Nibbles's school (he claims he waved to her from the bus). Third, he had a hot dog for lunch. Lastly (and most importantly), he got to go SWIMMING.

Now, Mikie can't swim. We took him to Red Cross swim classes in Maryland (nearly three years ago), and he has zero fear of the water. He knows to kick his legs and move his arms, and he knows that he can float if he lays on his back with his head back, but he can't swim without support (either a grown-up or floatation device). However, I didn't expect there to be any issues. Obviously, it was a beach. Like the beach we go to when we visit Grandma Kerrie, I assumed he would play in the shallow water with his friends. There would be a lifeguard and adult supervision. What could go wrong?

In hindsight, I realize how naive I was. After all, this is MIKIE we're talking about. Mikie, who reminds me of my sister on a daily basis. We can't go anywhere without there being a story to tell afterwards.

Friday was no different. Around 2pm, I received a call from the owner of the daycare who runs the summer camp. He was calling to tell me about an "incident" that occurred with Mikie at the beach. . .

Typically, "incident" means Mikie bit/hit/harassed/wrestled/etc. some kid at school. OR it means he was injured and I need to come take him to the ER. So my mind immediately jumped to three possible scenarios:

1. Mikie drowned.
2. Mikie drowned another child.
3. Mikie jumped in the water, hit his head on something, and has a concussion.

Mikie was splashing in the water, playing with his friends. In his excitement, he didn't realize that he was bouncing further away, until the beach dropped off. A life guard and paramedics rushed in to rescue him.

Aside from being physically okay, Mikie is totally unscathed by the incident. When I asked him about his day, he didn't even tell me about his "near miss". And, according to the teacher, he went right back into the water, not wanting to leave to eat lunch, let alone leave when it started raining. He eventually admitted to Mike and I that he "accidentally" went into a "deep section" and it was "really cold" and "seaweed was touching my foot."

And, I learned a valuable parenting lesson: Always send your kid out with a life vest. Especially if your child's name is Mikie Trahan (or Katie McLaughlin).

Love, The Trahans

Mother of the Year

Because Mikie will be starting school in the fall (fingers crossed), he was eligible for "summer camp". It is run by the daycare out of the local elementary school. Benefit: it's cheaper, Mikie gets to familiarize himself with the school he will attend, it has more activities and field trips. Mainly, it's cheaper. Downside: it's in a different location, which requires me to drop off and pick up two kids at TWO different places.

Like most people in the work place, I operate on auto pilot when I get in the car in the morning. I travel the same route, to the same places. I am used to dropping Hannah off at door #1, driving around the corner of the building, dropping Mikie off at door #2, before driving the remaining 10 minutes to work. I don't think about where I am going; I think about the other cars on the road, and what I need to accomplish over the course of the day (between home and work).

Today was day eight of summer camp. And, today was the THIRD TIME I have forgotten to drop Mikie off at camp. I get to the turn for Crabtree, and then realize that Trouble is still in the back seat, watching his movies and eating his breakfast.

Thankfully, work and camp are 3 minutes from each other. So, I only end up a few minutes late for work. I laughed to another mother how confused I am having to go to two places. She admitted that she drove all the way to HARTFORD (an hour away) before she realized her child was sleeping in the car!

Love, The Trahans

Guilty

I swear I don't know where he gets these comments from. Yesterday, at lunch, Mikie turned to Mike, face covered in peanut butter and bread, and asked "Is there guilt written all over my face?"

I'm assuming he has heard someone (possibly a teacher) say "You have guilt written all over your face." Especially given the fact that Mikie IS frequently doing something he shouldn't.

Love, The Trahans

Hannah's Baptism

Poor Hannah. . . I don't know if it is because she's the second child or because she's so easy going, but she tends to be an after thought...On June 13th (before Trouble's graduation), we baptised Hannah. Like the little princess she is, it looked like she was holding court, sitting in Mike's arm looking around as if to say "Hello, adoring fans. Thank you for coming out to witness my special day. Feel free to bask in my glow."We were lucky to have a lots of family and friends in attendance, including Uncle Josh and Auntie Shell, Hannah's godparents. Even luckier, the weather was as nice as we could expect. The rain stayed away all day, which was fortunate, since we had close to fifty guests in attendance.

Best of all, Mikie slept through the ENTIRE service, waking up at the end to groggily kiss Hannah and pose for a family photo. . .

Love, The Trahans

The Graduate

I have been very behind in my blogging. But, it has been an eventful couple of weeks. Between Hannah rolling over and Mikie being attacked by fleas, Mikie graduated from preschool. It was quite the affair, complete with caps and gowns and a luau themed after party. If you have time for a laugh, click here to watch the video. The highlight is counting backwards in the song "Five Green and Speckled Frogs". It must not be a prerequisite for graduation since no one but the teacher could remember how many frogs were left. Mikie was holding up four fingers when they got down to zero frogs. . .

If you don't have time to watch the video (or, like Mike and I, will have kiddy songs stuck in your head for a week), see pictures below:As you can see, even Hannah got into the theme with a tiny lei bracelet. She had sandals that I purchased at Old Navy (they were gaudy and gold with flowers). In spite of the fact I think her chubby feet are big, they were way too small for the 3-6 month sandals. In true beach spirit, she was forced to go barefoot.As a graduation present, Mikie is now the proud owner of an ecotarium containing two dwarf frogs and a snail. If you're four, it's both fun AND educational. He named them Flippy, Tert, and Snaily. He wants everyone to know that "Snaily is the snail". In case you were confused. I get Flippy, but have no idea where "Tert" comes from. Either way, they are the perfect pets for our family. . . they get fed twice a week and cleaned once a month. And, the only cost (other than the $29.99 I paid for them and their habitat) is for bottled water once a month (they came with a two year supply of food). Hopefully, I didn't just jinx myself by bragging about how idiot proof they are.

Love, The Trahans

Chicken Pox

When I was dressing Mikie this morning, I noticed that he had a LOT of what I originally thought were bug bites all over his body. It seemed odd to have been bitten all over his front, back, and legs. My gut told me he could have chicken pox. Because that would be my luck. . .

Conveniently enough, we had a 9:15 appointment with the pediatrician for Hannah's four month check-up. I figured I could ask her to look at his spots while we were there. . .

When I arrived, I learned a very valuable lesson: if you are ever in dire need of seeing a pediatrician, and have no desire to wait, tell the receptionist your child may have chicken pox. Our conversation went like this:

Mom: "While I'm here, can anyone look at my son? He had what I thought were bug bites yesterday, but they are all over his body and I am concerned they might be chicken pox."

Receptionist: "Is he here now?"

Mom: "Yes."

Receptionist: panic in her voice "Is he in the waiting room?"

Mom: "Yes." Although, in my head, I am thinking, "No, I left him in the car so that I could be arrested. Of course he's in the waiting room!"

Receptionist: panic escalating to annoyance "He can't be in the waiting room!"

Mom: looking around "Well, where should he sit?"

Receptionist: pointing to a bench outside of the office "Outside on that bench."

Now, I'm just annoyed. I'm not stupid. I know that the chicken pox is highly contagious. But, looking around the office, the ONLY one who should be freaking out with worry is me. I'M the parent with a four month old infant, who has been showered with kisses from her spotted sibling. There are two other families in the office: a dad and his teenage daughter, and a mom with her teenage son. Both kids have either had chicken pox or been vaccinated for it (since the public schools all require it). And, since the staff manning the desk are all forty plus years old, I am assuming that, like me, they have probably had the chicken pox as well.

I call Trouble over, and have him sit on the floor next to me. Because, I am still checking us in and REFUSE to let my four year old sit outside by himself. Still panicking (and noticing that I am not removing my child from the office with any urgency), the receptionist calls a nurse.

So, after arriving at 8:50 for a 9:15 appointment, we were in a room by 8:55 and had a doctor sitting in front of us by 9am. All for. . . flea bites. Yes, Mikie was covered in FLEA BITES. Since we don't have pets (other than Mikie's new frogs and snail), I'm can't entirely explain this. But, I am thankful that it isn't chicken pox (since flea bites aren't contagious).

As if the pandemonium we caused amongst the office staff wasn't amusing enough, there were a few prize comments from Mikie. The first came when I tried to explain what was going on:

Mom: "Mikie, you have to stay in this room while I take Hannah to be weighted. The nurses think you're very sick. How crazy is that? You don't feel sick, do you?"

Mikie: "No."

Mom: "We think the bug bites on your body might be chicken pox. Chicken pox make you really itchy."

Mikie: "But chicken pox have chickens on them."

Mom: puzzled. . . struggling to figure out where he heard this from. . .

Mikie: "In Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, Pete gets the chicken pox and they do the chicken dance and the spots go away."

Mom: "Well, that's just a cartoon. Unfortunately, it isn't that easy in real life."

The second conversation occurred while we were waiting for the nurse to come back with Hannah's vaccines:

Mikie: "Sing Hannah's song."

Mom: singing to Hannah and Mikie

Mikie: "Mom, sing it very loud so everyone can hear."

Mom: "Mikie, please spare me some of my dignity. I don't need to be known as that crazy lady singing songs about tinkle and poo to her kids." Yeah, I'm already known as the mother of the flea bitten child who thought he had chicken pox.

Let's just say that I couldn't leave the office fast enough. No sooner had I gotten my kids strapped into the car, then I realized I hadn't scheduled Hannah's six month appointment. I decided that it was going to take all my energy to get the kids to their respective daycare/summer camps and go to work, and that dragging them back inside just wasn't going to happen. I'll call later this week when the staff has forgotten the chaos we caused. Hopefully. . .

Love, The Trahans

Hannah Rolls Over

The title says it all. On Friday, June 19th (her four month birthday), Hannah regaled us with her new talent. . . the ability to roll over. There really isn't anything amusing about this, just pure cuteness. Although, as you can see in the video, she really works those abs in the process.

While we made a big deal of it, she seemed thoroughly annoyed. Not because she was stuck on her stomach, but rather that, after all her effort, Mike and Mikie returned back to chasing each other up the stairs to bed. I guess it's true what they say about the second child. . . they're somewhat forgotten. . .

Love, The Trahans

A Little Crazy

I'm not sure if parenthood makes you a little crazy, or if craziness is a prerequisite of the job. For instance, before kids, I would occasionally talk to myself. Typically, I would THINK I was talking to someone, then, realizing they had left the room, would continue to talk to myself by saying "Oh, no one's hear; I guess I'm talking to myself."

You would think that is bad enough. But, having kids has taken my craziness to a new level. First, there are the silly songs. I make up songs for everything. With Mikie, there was the "Mom Loves Mikie" song, the "Spit Up Song", and the ever popular "Snap the Snaps" song for those times when you are laying on the changing table, waiting for someone to snap your snaps. And so, I needed to have a song for Hannah. Something unique. Something like this.

And the craziness doesn't stop with silly songs. There is a plethora of nicknames. Because I can't just call my children by their ACTUAL names. Mikie was "Sir", "Mikie Bear", "Mister Peanut", "Peanut", "Squishy", "Sir Squishy", "Smeagle (rhymes with beagle), and the ever popular "Trouble" (among others). Again, we need names for Hannah. She has become "Nibbles", "Super Nibbles", "Niblet", "Hannah Banana", "Banana", "Tiny", "Mister Tiny", "Princess", "Princess Tinklepants", and the crowd pleaser "Princess Hannah, Duchess of Tinkledom, Countess of Flatulence".

I know. . . she will kill me when she's older. . .

However, the piece de resistance is the conversations. I have full conversations as if Hannah is talking to me. For example, here is one from dinner earlier this week:

Mom: as myself, while placing Hannah in her highchair "Banana, would you like to sit at the table?"

Hannah: smiling "AAAHHHHH".

Mom: still as myself "Here, let me give you your tray to bang on."

Hannah: angrily "AAAAHHHHH!"

Mom: as Hannah "Why do I need a tray? No one else has one."

Mom: as myself "Valid point, Hannah. I'll put it away."

No, I do not have multiple personalities. I just have this craziness that forces me to make up dialogues with my children. What's worse is I don't even realize I'm doing it. Mike and my cousin where making fun of me after the fact, and I didn't even know what they were talking about.

Someone should research this. If you can have Baby-brain while your pregnant, is it so far fetched to think that you could suffer from parental schizophrenia?

Love, The Trahans

O Brother, Where Art Thou?

I think I've mentioned it before, but Hannah loves her big brother. Actually, love may not be a strong enough word to describe how she feels. . . WORSHIPS is more accurate. If Hannah's crying, nine times out of ten, Mikie can get her to stop by coming over and talking to her.

This evening was a perfect example. We came home from dinner. Mike was upstairs giving Mikie a bath and getting him ready for bed. Hannah was downstairs with Krista and I, chatting away in her Exersaucer. And then she heard him. That voice, echoing through the house. Hark, I hear Brother. All of the sudden, she was craning her neck, kicking her legs, trying desperately to find him. You can see what I mean in this video.

I finally gave in and took her upstairs to give Mikie a kiss goodnight. She was so happy to see him, I figured I would let her stay up with them for story time while I made more formula. Mikie wanted Mike to snuggle him, but there was no way Mike could snuggle Mikie, hold Hannah, and read a story (or if he could, I am impressed). So, Hannah and Brother snuggled up in Mikie's bed and Mikie held the flashlight while Mike read The Cat in the Hat to them. As usual, she was elated to be near him. I wonder how long this will last. . .

Love, The Trahans

Phi Kap in Training

Mikie has a Leapfrog toy called a "Word Wammer". It has three slots to insert magnetic letters to spell words. There are different challenges: you can pick three random letters and when you press them, the toy sounds out the word, or it will tell you a word and you have to find the letters and put them in the right sequence to spell the word.

One morning while eating breakfast, Mikie was playing with the "Word Wammer". It was asking him to find the letters in the word "pug". I helped Mikie sound out the letters (and gave him hints as to what color the letters were to help him locate them faster). And, after a few minutes, he had successfully spelled the word "pug".

Once you spell a word correctly, it gives you a new challenge, like "create a word that rhymes with 'pug'" or "create a new word by changing a letter in the word 'pug'". I was distracted, trying to get two kids fed and in the car, so I didn't notice the new word Mikie created until we got home: P-U-B.

Yes, he spelled pub. By himself. No help. And while we were all amused, I'm sure Mike gave him a high five when reading stories at bed time.

Love, The Trahans

Diva

I don't think Hannah likes me very much. Don't get me wrong, when she's hungry and I walk in with a bottle, she appreciates me. Well, not right away (especially if I change her first). But, she usually warms up to me once she starts eating.

The pediatrician told me at our two month check-up that she should start "talking". Obviously, not "hey, mom, where's my bottle?" but rather "gaaaa" and "aaahhh" and other cute baby noises said with a serious or flirtatious expression LIKE she is talking. At the time, she wasn't saying anything. She moved her mouth and I think she believed she was talking. But, not a single peep came out. It was especially cute.

Recently, she DID start making noises. But, I noticed that, instead of cute babbling noises, Hannah growls at me. For example: after bath time last week, I let her stand on her changing table (standing being her new favorite activity). I told her I needed to lay her down to change her, which I proceeded to do, and she started YELLING at me. Sounds like "GRRRR!" and "RAAAHHR!" As if that wasn't cute enough, the expression on her face was PRICELESS. At 3 1/2 months, she has already learned how to fire daggers with her eyes. The combination of expression and growls were enough to communicate, "How DARE you clean me?!? And change my diaper? I have more important things to do then waist my time laying here."

I thought maybe my grouchiness may have been infectious. Until bath time two nights ago. Both kids were dirty (Hannah was covered in sunscreen and Mikie was covered in, what else, dirt). So, Mike made Trouble shower in our bathroom while I bathed Hannah in the guest bathroom. As usual, Hannah was none too happy when removed from the tub. While I was struggling to dry her off, Mikie came bounding in from the other bathroom. He stuck his face nose to nose and started singing the "distraction" song (his name, not mine). Immediately, Hannah stopped crying, smiled up at him and started cooing, as if singing along.

Shocked, I told Mikie "I think Hannah likes you more than me." To which he responded, "No, she loves all of us, Mom."

Yeah, that sounds like the canned response that I tell him when he says he doesn't have any friends. . .

If she's like this at 4 months, what will life be like when she's 16 and despises me. . .

Love, The Trahans

"A" is for Attitude

Mike can be quite a wise ass. When we watch the Red Sox, and a player comes up to bat that I don't recognize, we tend to have the following conversations:

Lauren: "Who is this loser?" Because, anyone I don't know is assumed to be a loser.

Mike: "Bailey."

Lauren: "I gathered that from the name on his jersey. Who is Bailey?"

Mike: "A baseball player."

Lauren: "Thank you, Captain Obvious. I know he is a baseball player, since I am watching the game. Is he new? Is he up from Pawtucket? Where did he come from?"

You can see where I am going. He thinks he is incredibly funny. And, unfortunately for me, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

Every Friday at "school", Mikie's class celebrates the letter of the week by bringing in an item from home that begins with the letter they studied that week. Mikie refers to it as "Bring a Toy to School Day." But, I am sure the teachers didn't intend for it to be restricted to toys. Last week was letter "T" week. Since Mikie is starting kindergarten, I was asking him questions to help him practice his letters:

Mom: "So, if this week is letter 'T' week, what letter is next week?"

Mikie: singing the alphabet to himself "W."

Mom: "No, just regular 'U'."

Mikie: "Oh. What begins with 'U'?"

Mom: "Umbrella. . . underpants. . . "

Mikie: "Mom, what is something fun that begins with 'U'?"

Mom: ". . . underwater. . . utensils. . . "

Mikie: "Mom, it needs to be a tu-tu-tu-TOY. That's why it's called 'Bring a TOY to School'."

He sounded just like me when I am sounding out the letters, trying to help him figure out what letter something starts with. As if I didn't understand the word. Or, didn't know what the difference between underpants and a toy were. As if that wasn't bad enough, he reminded us again today by asking "What's something fun that begins with 'U' and don't say 'umbrella' or 'underpants'."

Feel free to send your suggestions, as I only have three more days to come up with a "U" item that is "fun".

Love, The Trahans

Take this Job. . .

In the summer months, I try and work "summer hours". This entails working 8am to 5pm Monday through Thursday, and 8am to 2:30pm on Friday. It gives me a couple extra hours on Friday to go to the farm stand, play mini golf, or just enjoy being outside with Mikie. I don't know why I kill myself to work summer hours, because, the reality is I NEVER get out of work on time. But that's a different story altogether.

Last week was the start of summer hours. And, with Mike out of town (which means I get to bed later), it was impossible to get two kids up, dressed, and out the door by 7am. By Friday, my patience was worn thin, and my frustration was very visible.

Mikie: "Mom, why are you so mad at me."

Mom: "I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at myself."

Mikie: "Why are you mad at yourself."

Mom: "Because, I just want to get to work on time ONCE this week. And, once again, I'm going to be late. And, people can lose their jobs if they are late all the time. Mommy won't lose her job, but I just like to be ON-TIME. . . ONCE."

Mikie: "Mom, you should just quit your job."

Mom: "Mikie, I'm not going to quit my job. I like my job."

Mikie: "But, if you ask your boss for a raise, and he says 'No', then you should just quit."

I sat there, confused, thinking "Where does he get this stuff from?" I was about to worry that he thought I didn't spend enough time with him and WANTED me to quit my job. And then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the "Jetsons" DVD on the passengers seat.

Note to self, give Mikie a more realistic view of career goals, success, and workplace etiquette before he gets a job. Otherwise, he is going to be in for a reality check when he finds out not everyone works Monday through Wednesday and plays gin rummy with their computer.

Love, the Trahans

If You Want Something Done. . .

just do it yourself.

All of us (well, not sure about Hannah, yet) have seasonal allergies. We ALWAYS have Sudafed and various assorted antihistamines in the house (Claritin, Benadryl, Zyrtec, Allegra, etc.) But, this season, our allergies hit us harder than ever. Mine flared into a full blown sinus infection before I knew what hit me. And my husband, Sneezy. . . I mean Mike, was also hit hard.

Here is what differs between Mike and I. When I realize I can't manage my symptoms with over-the-counter medication, I go see a doctor for prescription drugs. Because, after all, God would have given us the knowledge to come up with prescription drugs if he didn't intend us to use them. And, what's the point of paying for health and prescription drug insurance if you aren't going to use it?

Mike on the other hand prefers to suffer in silence. Except, he isn't very silent. Every morning, I hear him hacking up a lung in the shower. And, every evening, he passes out in his dinner from all the antihistamine he is consuming over the course of the day.

While Mike refused to seek professional medical help, our grass grew. And grew. And GREW. Mike did attempt to mow the grass, but only made it through the front yard before giving up. He refuses to wear a mask because it fogs up his sunglasses. After a week of not letting Mikie play on his swingset, I decided to cut the grass myself.

Let me start by saying, I had only mowed the lawn one other time in my life (while Mike went to a bachelor party in Vegas). Since we now had a ride on mower, I thought, "it can't be THAT hard." And, honestly, I half expected Mike to see the effort I was making and come out to my rescue.

Unfortunately, while we differ in our pursuit of medical attention when sick, we are both equally stubborn. Every time I stalled and had to ask Mike what I was doing wrong, he was content to come outside and show me, and then go back into the air conditioning with the kids. And, if he was too stubborn to come out and take over, I was only more determined to mow the damn lawn myself.Three and a half hours later, covered in grass stains, our 3/4 of an acre yard was neatly trimmed. Granted, there were a fair amount of areas to go back and get with the weedwacker. But, overall, it looked pretty good.

THANKFULLY, Mike FINALLY went to the doctor and got a prescription for Singulair. In combination with his Zyrtec and Sudafed, his eyes and nose are no longer running. So, he was able to cut the grass himself this weekend.

Love, The Trahans

Hannah Turns 3. . .

months, that is. When Mikie was born, my mom gave us a photo cube. You were supposed to put his picture at 3, 6, 9, and 12 months on each face of the cube. Unfortunately, we didn't ever remember to take Mikie's pictures. So, we decided to use it for Hannah.

We didn't bother having professional pictures taken prior to now, because she couldn't smile until she was a month old. And, in reality, she didn't exactly smile on cue until recently. So, I wasn't sure how she would do.

I know people would tell us she's cute even if she wasn't (because, it's what you say), but I don't think you can look at this face and not melt:There is one photo in particular that looks EXACTLY like a picture of me as a child. I have been scouring the house looking for it. So, I'm saving the other pictures until I find it.

Love, The Trahans

Lost Boy

After a long Friday, we decided to rendezvous in Connecticut for Mexican food. Mikie, Hannah and I sat down to milk, a bottle, and a strawberry daiquiri (respectively). By the time Mike and Krista arrived, and we ate dinner, I was ready for a break from Mikie. Since we drove separately, I convinced Mike to take my car and drive the kids home.

As Krista and I pulled into the driveway, we saw Mikie, standing near the closed garage doors, looking lost. Mike was no where to be seen.

Mom: "Mikie, why are you standing outside?"

Mikie: "I was trying to get in to tell Dad something."

We're really NOT bad parents. In reality, Mikie asked to play outside, which Mike let him do. He specifically left the door to the deck open so that Mikie could come in and out. Unfortunately, Mikie didn't realize this; hence the confusion.

And so was born the joke of the weekend:

Mikie: "Knock, knock"

Dad: "Who's there?"

Mikie: "Mikie"

Dad: "Mikie who?"

Mikie: "Let me in, you moron."

Okay, I take back the "we're good parents" comment. Mike did teach our son the word "moron."

Love, The Trahans

McDonald's

Mikie loves McDonald's. Not for the food (at least, I don't think for the food). He loves McDonald's for the "toy surprises". I thought that he understood which places offered "toy surprises" (McDonald's, Wendy's, Burger King) versus the restaurants which don't (Friendly's). Not exactly. . .

This weekend, we went to Boston Beer Works with my cousins, James and Krista. I am realizing that 90% of the time, only one of my kids will be happy. While Hannah was content to sit in her stroller, kick her feet and flirt with the ceiling fixtures, Mikie was not as happy. Still annoyed by the fact that we were going on the tour of Fenway instead of playing mini golf and eating ice cream, he was particularly whiney and demanding. When the waitress came to take our order, Mikie ordered a hotdog and french fries. And, after we were all done ordering our food he yelled in his own exasperated way, "And can you bring me a toy surprise." As if she had some nerve making him sit all this time without his toy.

Unfortunately, while I tried to explain to him that they don't have toy surprises at all restaurants, the waitress only made matters worse by saying "I'll go look for one." Which, to a four year old means "Sure, I'll get you one right now." Needless to say, she didn't find one, which added only added to the whining that regaled us through lunch.

Hopefully, when she has kids, some waitress will do her the same favor.

Love, The Trahans

Public Indecency

Imagine for a moment you are in a parking garage. You are heading to your car, having just finished a day of sightseeing, shopping, or maybe even a long day of work. You put the car in gear, back out of your parking space, and head for the exit. As you round the corner, there in front of you, illuminated by your headlights, is the rear end of a four year old, exposed for all to see while he pees in the middle of the parking garage.

Had you been parked on the upper level of the Boston Common parking garage between 8 and 9pm on Saturday, you would have had an experience not unlike what I described above.

In Mikie's defense, he REALLY had to pee, and every time he asked Mike if he could pee, he said "not here". So, I can understand why he felt the need to act on his own.

In Mike's defense, I don't think it would have been legal if he let Mikie pee on Boston Common. And, since there were a fair amount of police officers around, it was probably a good thing that Mikie listened.

Let me just say it was pretty amusing to watch Mike frantically pick up Mikie and race him to a corner, all while trying to avoid getting peed on. I'm sure it would have been less amusing had I been the one to have to move him!

Love, The Trahans

Little Quackers

This weekend, my Aunt Maureen and Cousin Krista came to visit. Since they had never been to Boston, we decided to do my favorite activity, take a Duck Tour. Thankfully, the weather was beautiful, because I wasn't looking forward to driving around in an amphibious vehicle if it was cold and rainy. Here are some pictures:

The motley crew.I like this picture because you can see that Hannah does indeed have red hair. Or, you can on my computer before I upload to blogger. If you can't see it, trust me, it's there.Mikie driving the boat. He wanted to make sure that everyone knew his name.Nibbles driving the boat. By far the cutest (and probably the youngest) duck driver ever.

Love, The Trahans

Strawberry Head

CUTENESS ALERT!

Today I found a very cute hat in Hannah's closet. I think someone gave it to Mikie when he was a baby (which is somewhat silly when you think of him wearing it).Isn't she cute!

Love, The Trahans

The Princess and the Pee

Mikie and Hannah are four and a half years apart. So, for the last few years (especially since Mikie learned to use the potty), I forgot how much your life with a baby revolves around bodily functions. I'm serious. Since they can't talk, you pay WAY to much attention to these things to effectively diagnose if their is a problem. How many diapers does she wet a day? How many bowel movements does she have a day/week? What color and consistency are they? Does she spit up? Is it just spit up or projectile vomit? If you have kids, you know what I'm talking about.

Poor Princess Tinklepants was constipated after switching to soy formula. Yes, I call her Princess Tinklepants. Mostly because diaper changes occasionally turn into the water show at the Bellagio as she manages beautiful displays of tinkle, showering all over the changing table.

But I digress. Mikie and I took Princess Tinklepants to the pediatricians after a week of constipation had resulted in her spitting up entire contents of bottles and not eating. In spite of everything, she was happy as a lark. But, no amount of sugar water would help this kid poop. While I was trying to explain every home remedy we tried, the doctor took Hannah and took off her diaper to check her.

No sooner did the diaper come off then Hannah managed to move her bowels. And, in my excitement, I yelled "YEAH, A BIG POOP!" Too which the doctor responded, "I've never seen anyone get so excited about poop before."

And that is when I realized I had a serious problem. Or, was a VERY devoted parent.

Love, The Trahans.

The Hockey Clinic

Mikie has always professed to love hockey. And, during every skating class he has attended, all he asks to do is play hockey on the ice with a puck and a stick. Unfortunately, I've been reluctant to sign him up for hockey because of the investment. More than just the cost to join, you need to pay for all the equipment. It wouldn't bother me if I knew he was going to really love playing. It's the thought that I may spend a small fortune outfitting him with miniature hockey gear only to have him hate playing after one day on the ice that makes me cringe.

So, I was happy to hear that FMC Hockey and the Boston Bruins were running hockey clinics for 4-7 year-olds around the state. Perfect. They provided all the equipment. Mikie got to enjoy playing hockey. And, best of all, it was FREE.

Since we were celebrating a belated Easter the next day with Mike's family, I decided that Hannah and I should stay home and run errands while the boys went to the clinic. Mike promised to take lots of video so we could relive his experience.

Mike had a very different opinion of what his experience should be like. Rather than doing drills like the other kids (which he considered to be a waste of ice time), he spent much of his time off in his own world, hitting pucks towards the goals. For the brave who have five minutes to spare, you can view the video footage here. I did do you all a favor by speeding it up, since none of the kids skate that fast (it was torturous even for his parents to watch).

And, for those of you who don't feel a strong desire to watch Mikie skate attempt to skate, you can get a chuckle from the pictures below:Go Bruins!

Love, The Trahans

The Church Interviews

In two years that we've been hear, we haven't officially joined a church. Since we wanted to baptize Hannah, we decided to buckle down and pick one to join.

There are three Catholic churches close to our house (actually, there are more, but I picked the ones within a five mile radius). So, we spent Sunday's during March and April attending each one:

St. Patrick's is HUGE. I actually think any church named "St. Patrick" must look like a mini cathedral, because I haven't been to a St. Patrick's church that wasn't large. Unfortunately, the parking lot was minuscule. By the time we found parking, and walked all the way back to church, mass was already underway. We snuck in and, not seeing any seats, stood in the back.

In the chaos of getting situated, the priest, Father Michael, called all the children forward to dismiss them to the Children's Mass. Mikie started up the side aisle by himself and, halfway to the front, sat down with a random family. I told Mike to go get him. When Mike got to where he was sitting, Mikie decided to follow the rest of the kids out. Unfortunately, by the time he got to the front of the church, all the kids had left through a side door. So, Mikie stepped up onto the alter and stood their looking around. During this time, Mike was walking back towards Hannah and I and didn't see what was going on. As the congregation broke out into giggles, and the Father Michael came down from where he was sitting to help Mikie, I was whispering (as loudly as I could) for Mike to go rescue him. Eventually, both Mike's made their way to the Children's Mass. And, I only had to relive my humiliation three times when running into neighbors at the grocery store afterwards.

St. Peter's was much smaller. Unfortunately, the week we went, they had suspended the Children's service. So, Mikie was forced to endure mass with the rest of us. This did not make him happy, a fact he verbalized over and OVER again during the first reading. At one point the priest came down and informed the woman reading that she was reading the wrong passage. During the silence that ensued while they searched for the right passage, Mikie could be heard screaming, "DAD, you're making me have to be MAD at you." Mike managed to quiet him down (without smothering him) and the rest of mass passed uneventfully. Afterwards, Mike was rewarded for his "patience" by getting a lollipop from Father James.

When we got in the car, Mikie asked "Who wants my Amen Popsicle?" To which Mike responded, "I'll eat it." And, when he realized that it was orange, he added, "Hey, Mikie, next time you get an Amen Popsicle that you don't want to eat, remember that Daddy likes the red ones." Now, I live in fear that the next priest Mikie sees will be greeted with the demand of a "red Amen Popsicle for his dad." Hell, here we come.

Luckily, with the exception of Mikie introducing Father Brian to his sister, "Nibbles" (which of course required an explanation), we don't have any embarrassing mishaps to share about St. Mark's. Because, we can't show our face at the other two churches ever again.

Love, The Trahans

My Son the Bully

I think every parent worries that their child will be bullied. But, Mike and I figured we didn't have to worry about Mikie, since he's Mr. Popularity. Until last week.

On Thursday afternoon, Mikie had an incident on the playground. The school has a rule that you can't have more than three kids on the jungle gym at a time. Evidently, some big kids were playing on the jungle gym. Mikie climbed on, even though there were three kids already on it. One of the boys, a fourth grader, told him to get off or he would push him off. (I know, what is a nine year old doing on a jungle gym?) Anyway, Mikie didn't take too kindly to being threatened, so he bit the kid in the stomach.

When we got home, I told Mikie to tell Dad what happened with the big kids. And, instead of telling him about the playground, he started telling a different story. Two days earlier, some big kids were playing catch inside when we arrived at school. Their "baseball" (which looked to be a Nerf ball) landed a bit to close to Hannah. Mikie picked up the ball and yelled, "Hey, you almost hit my sister!" The teacher took the ball away. But, Mikie was still so enraged, that this was the first "big kid" story he could think of.

Warning to any big kids: don't mess with Hannah or Mikie. Or, there may be throwdown on the playground.

Love, The Trahans

Spring Shower

If you have kids (or have been forced to bathe one), you know that it is no small task. I imagine it's like bathing a dog or cat (although, I really wouldn't know since I don't have either). They are small, wiggly, and very slippery when wet, so trying to bathe them in a full size bath tub is scary (for both parent and child). Worse, try using a small sink without hitting some body part on the faucet. Before you start to worry that my kids are the smelly kids at school, rest assured that for under $20, you can buy a baby bath tub to make bath time easier.

Unfortunately, baby bath tubs are a pain to travel with. In this instance, showers become a good substitute, as was the case Easter morning at Grandma Pookie's house.

As you can see from this video, Mike and I are VERY easily amused (or maybe just me). I am so easily amused that I insisted on calling my entire family into the bathroom while Mike was in the shower to see just how amusing shower time with an infant can be. Thankfully, they were all just as entertained as I was. So, once again, we grabbed the video camera to add to our collection of moments that will embarrass our children when they are older.

Love, The Trahans

Four or Forty?

The problems that plague preschoolers: What should I eat for breakfast?. . . How am I going to convince my parents to buy me that Bakugan my friend has?. . . What am I going to do with the five o'clock shadow I have on my chin?

Yes, as you can see in the video, Mikie's biggest problem on Friday was that he needed "a shave". I don't know who told him this (maybe one of his many girlfriends from school). To be honest, I'm less surprised each time something like this comes out of his mouth, and more and more thankful that it isn't something offensive.

If this is what he is like at four, I shudder to think what lies ahead.

Love, The Trahans

Child Abuse

My name is Hannah Reilly Trahan, and I am abused. My brother tries to smother me with kisses on a daily basis. And, my mom makes me eat washcloths when I am STARVING and craving a bottle of formula. No, we don't abuse her (although Mikie really does try to smother her with kisses on a daily basis). You can click the picture above to view the video of how tasty a washcloth is. It was just too cute not to document for posterity. Especially when she gets so excited at the end, she can't even focus (she does that when she's eating too)!

Love, The Trahans

Super Nibbles Update

Yesterday, Hannah and I drove to daycare to pick Mikie up from preschool. When we walked in, Mikie dragged us into the classroom to show us the toy I'm "going to get him" (his words, not mine). After looking at some kid's Nintendo Gameboy Advanced, I noticed Hannah had a crowd of admirers surrounding her. One little girl was trying to remove the blanket and look at her hands. She looked up at me and said "Does she REALLY have suction cups?"

Needless to say, I had to fight back tears to explain that, no, she doesn't have suction cups for hands and then explain the story to the owner. And, unfortunately for Hannah, the kids seemed a little less interested after they realized she couldn't climb on the ceiling.

Love, The Trahans

And the Winner is

Because lack of sleep has zapped my creative juices, we ran a contest to rename the blog. And, until this week, we only had one entry: "Thing 1 & Thing 2: A Day in the Lives of the Trahans." My only issue with "Thing 1 and Thing 2" was referring to my children as Things. Plus, I was fearful Hannah would then turn into as big a troublemaker as Mikie, since Things 1 & 2 weren't exactly angelic. However, since I love Thing 1 and Thing 2 (and since it was the only contest entry) I was about to go live with the new header designed around this.

Until this morning. This morning, I found a comment from our friend, Kristine, suggesting the title "The Adventures of Trouble & Super Nibbles". Which, I think perfectly epitomizes both children and my life on a daily basis. So, congratulations to Kristine, proud winner of bragging rights and Crabtree product.

Honorable mention goes to Christie, who not only came up with a very creative name, but also an entire design to go with it.

Love, The Trahans

All Nibbles, All the Time

There is a small group of followers who have requested a live web feed of Nibbles (not to mention names. . . Katie & Marta). And, while we take our readers requests seriously, I'm not sure this would be very entertaining. Because, although EXTREMELY cute, Hannah's day is not exactly newsworthy. So, in lieu of video, here are some additional photos of Hannah, complete with insight into her daily schedule:1. Wake up. Stretch (while making cute/silly faces)

2. Have diaper changed. Pee and poop on mom/dad while having diaper changed.

3. Get a bath and new clothes so that I am not covered in urine.

4. Whine that no one has fed me yet.

5. Eat. Burp. 6. Look at the ceiling/lights/trees.

7. Make silly faces.

8. Stretch.

9. Cuddle. Fall asleep again. 10. Repeat, alternating length of time asleep to keep everyone on their toes.

Occasionally, we change it up by going on a trip in the car. In which case I don my cute little hat, get strapped into my carseat and head out with mom/dad/Mikie.That's it. I promise to be more diligent with pictures as she starts to do more during the day. In the interim, this will have to do.

Love, The Trahans

What's that Spell?

The power of suggestion. . . it's a dangerous thing around a four year old. All of the sudden, the mere mention of dinner prompts demands of a Spiderman toy. The chain of thought, for those who aren't four or don't have a four year old yet goes something like this: Dinner = McDonald's = Happy Meal = Spiderman Toy.

Like any normal parents, we have resorted to spelling to have conversations without Mikie chiming in. For example:

Lauren: "What Transformer is the E-a-s-t-e-r-B-u-n-n-y bringing Trouble?"

Mike: "B-l-i-t-z. . ." pause to look at the box "k. . ."

Lauren: remembering that Mikie asked for Blitzkrieg months ago "Got it."

It's great, not only can we communicate in peace, but it makes us expert puzzle solvers when we watch Wheel of Fortune.

Evidently, Mikie has noticed our new game. Yesterday, I was trying to get Mikie, Hannah and I ready for a trip to Target. I stopped to check for coupons on the Internet. Unfortunately, Mikie wasn't happy with this delay.

Mikie: "Mom, do you know what M-i-k-m-i-t-h-z-k-w spells?"

Mom: trying not to laugh "No, I don't. What does it spell?"

Mikie: annoyed "It spells 'I quit'. Because you are taking too long and we need to just go to Target already."

Somehow, I think his angry rant would be more impactful if he actually knew how to spell. But, it was pretty amusing none the less.

Love, T-h-e T-r-a-h-a-n-s

Super Nibbles

Mikie ADORES Hannah. The first thing he asks in the morning is if he can go see her (assuming she is still sleeping) or if he can give her a kiss (assuming she is awake). If she is eating, he comes over to kiss her hands. If she is sitting in her chair or carseat, he kisses her head (or nose). When I'm burping her, he comes over and pats her back. When she's crying, he screams at me that "Nibbles is crying" and then runs to comfort her. Every time we drop him off or pick him up at preschool, he walks into the room and yells "Who wants to see my sister Nibbles Hannah Reilly Trahan?"Evidently, Mikie's love has elevated Hannah to super hero status. On Tuesday afternoon, Hannah and I went to pick Mikie up from preschool. By the time we arrived, Hannah was hungry. Not wanting a gaggle of children surrounding me, we snuck in a different entrance and I fed Hannah her bottle in the director's office.

I thought we were stealthy, but Mikie had noticed my car in the parking lot. When we walked into his classroom, he was waiting, anxious to know where we had been hiding. Then, his teacher told me that Mikie told the class that "Nibbles has suction cups" to climb on the ceiling (ironically similar to his Spiderman toy). When we didn't show up, the teacher joked that maybe Nibbles had used her suction cups to climb onto the roof and I was trying to catch her.

I can't wait for them to read this when they're older.

Love, The Trahans

Priceless

During my senior year of college, one of my many esteemed professors told us that if we only owned one reference manual, we should all own Perry's Chemical Engineering Handbook. Needless to say, being the obedient student that I was (yes, a dork), I fully intended to purchase a copy immediately. Until I discovered that this "bible" for my profession cost a few hundred dollars (in my head, I remember it being close to $500, but it is listed as much less today).

As if the fact that I wanted to own this wasn't bad enough, I asked my mother to buy it for me for CHRISTMAS. Yes, it was my big present Christmas of 1999. I couldn't have been happier (as I said, I was a dork). And, I did use it a few times that last year of school. But, never could I have imagined just how useful it would become. . . Yes, 10 years later, my expensive reference manual is being used to help my infant daughter's sinuses drain. I don't remember which professor insisted we buy it, but I am sure he never anticipated it would end up elevating a crib mattress. And, when I received it Christmas morning, I never knew how incredibly useful it would be.

Love, The Trahans

Wee One

They say everyone's a little Irish on St. Patrick's Day. Some of us are ACTUALLY Irish all the time. In case her middle name and red hair didn't give it away, Hannah is one of the latter. So, in honor of St. Patrick's Day, we dressed in green and took pictures of the world's cutest little leprechaun:I think she wanted to change her shirt to read "Kiss Me, I'm Being Tortured", especially since we tried on multiple pairs of pants before we found ones that fit (sort of).Happy St. Patrick's Day.

Love, The Trahans

The Apple Doesn't Fall Far

Yesterday, I bravely ventured out to Babies 'R Us with both children in search of new bottles for Hannah. It should have been a quick trip: drive to store, grab three packs of bottles that I preselected before leaving the house, go to cash register, pay, drive home. Since Mikie was in toe, we had to look at the toys, which added to the time in the store (in spite of the fact that the toy section consists of a limited number of toys, geared mostly to children under the age of three).

We eventually made it to the cash register. The ONLY register open in the store. We were behind a couple who appeared to be finishing purchasing items off their baby registry. I was surprised to see a couple in the store in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday (hello, don't they have jobs?) The wife kept trying to use coupons that weren't valid yet. Then, she argued that her breast pump should be on sale (which prompted pulling a circular out of her purse). When they finally agreed on sale prices with the cashier, her husband pulled out multiple gift cards to pay with. Since I wanted to get home and sterilize the new bottles before Hannah's next feeding (and patience is one of those virtues I lack), I was quickly getting annoyed. But, I tried to maintain my composure.

And then there was Mikie. Bless his heart, he turns to me and yells, "Why are these people taking so long to pay?" (Evidently, he inherited some of my less desirable traits. Let's hope Hannah only inherited my physical appearance. . . )

As any mom whose child just said something embarrassing would do, I laughed and said in my best school teacher voice, "Mikie, we need to be patient. It will be our turn soon." Luckily, they opened another cash register, and we were soon exiting the store.

Happy shopping.

Love, The Trahans

Brotherly Love

On Monday, Mikie went back to preschool for the first time since Hannah was born. Ever the proud big brother, he insisted on showing off his baby sister to his friends. As Hannah and I signed him in and hung up his lunch box, I could hear him yelling to his friends, "Everybody, come see my baby sister, Nibbles Hannah." Yes, we can't get him to call her "Hannah", he continues to call her "Nibbles" or "Nibbles Hannah". But, I digress. . .

I brought Hannah (who was sleeping soundly in her infant carrier) back into the big room for everyone to see. All the kids huddled around, while Mikie put his face into the carrier to show everyone "her little hands". Then, he turned to the other kids and announced (or rather, yelled, since that is the only volume Mikie has) "BUT YOU HAVE TO BE QUIET BECAUSE SHE'S SLEEPING!"

Thankfully, Nibbles doesn't seem bothered by the whirlwind of noise and energy that is Mikie. Either that, or she inherited Mikie's ability to sleep through anything. Hopefully, a little of both.

Love, The Trahans

Auntie Nibbles

Try as we might, we cannot get Mikie to refer to Hannah as "Hannah". He continues to call her "Nibbles" or "Nibbles Hannah". What's worse, is I find myself referring to her as Nibbles when I talk to him. While I call her Hannah when I'm talking to her (or anyone else), I'll ask Mikie to "give Nibble's her pacifier" or "get Nibble's her blanket".

Last week, we went to the pediatrician's office for Hannah's two week check up. It was a family affair: Mom, Dad, Mikie and Hannah. Mikie had zero desire to sit in the room waiting for the doctor to check Hannah. As he whined about wanting to leave, I told him "We can go home when the doctor is done checking Nibbles." The doctor laughingly warned "You better watch out. Those are the type of names that stick. One day his kids are going to call her 'Auntie Nibbles'."

Let's hope Hannah really likes her nickname. Because I think "Auntie Nibbles" is hear to stay.

Love, The Trahans

Only Mikie

While Hannah is content to eat, sleep, and go through packs of Huggies a day, Mikie continues to amuse us with his sayings. Here are a few anecdotes from the last couple of days:

1. The other night, while putting Mikie to bed, Mike started to tell Mikie what a good big brother he was. Mikie cut him off, saying, "Okay, Dad, I'm tired now, so leave me alone."

2. Last night, Mikie fell asleep early, in the clothes he was wearing all day. This morning, noticing that he was STILL wearing the same clothes from yesterday, I told him to go change.

Mikie: "I can't change because I'm too sick."

Mom: "That's exactly why you should change, because those clothes are germy."

Mikie: "But I like these clothes."

Mom: "Don't you think you should put on clean clothes before Grandma Kerrie comes?"

Mikie: "No, because she hasn't seen me in these yet."

Neither Mike nor I could think of a good response. Although, we did eventually force him into clean clothes.

3. On hearing that his cousin was coming to visit, Mikie informed Mike and I that he couldn't play with his castle.

Mike: "Why can't you play with your castle?"

Mikie: "Because I had to destroy all of the fun games because you guys wouldn't take me to McDonald's for a Spiderman toy."

He hasn't realized that destroying his own toys isn't a threat to Mike and I.

Love, The Trahans

Ferocious Baby

Hannah has a very cute habit. When she is hungry, she gets very annoyed if you try and giver her a pacifier. She opens her mouth like she is going to take it, then violently shakes her head back and forth as if to say "No, I am not that stupid. This one doesn't have formula in it." We just had to attempt to capture it on video, so we can remember how little and cute she was when she's 13 and driving her father and I crazy.

Love, The Trahans