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

Rename that Blog

Over the last few months, we have received comments that our blog title "Life With Mikie" won't be very appropriate once Nibbles arrives. Now that she's here, we're stumped as to what to call the blog. My original thought was "Double Trouble". But, that implies that Hannah will be as much trouble as her big brother, which both Mike and I sincerely hope is NOT the case.

Since my creative juices are zapped, and Mike hasn't had any suggestions I deemed befitting our blog, he suggested a blog naming contest. To enter, submit a comment to this post (or e-mail me by clicking here), including your name and what you think the new blog name should be. The winner will be recognized in a future post, unveiling the new site name, and sent a lovely gift (most likely Crabtree product). No limit on entries. The winner will be selected by me (although I may allow Mike a vote, depending on my mood).

And, to all the closet blog fans we have out there, feel free to enter as well.

We look forward to reading all the entries.

Love, The Trahans

More Mikie-isms

Spending six weeks at home with Trouble means I have a lot more exposure to his witty remarks. Here are just a few of the more recent examples:

1. My mom is spending the week with us, helping me acclimate to life as a mother of two (and allowing me the opportunity to nap). At one point this week, Mikie decided he wanted a snack. But rather than say, "Can someone please get me a snack" like the polite child I am TRYING to raise him to be, my child says, "Earth to Pookie. . . I want a Scooby Snack!" As with most of his comments, I am again dumbfounded as to where he learned the expression "Earth to" anyone. Although, if he were to sarcastically say, "Hello! Am I talking here?", I would accept full responsibility for being a bad influence.

2. This morning, while Nibbles was napping, I volunteered to play Yahtzee with Mikie. It's somewhat complicated for a 4 year old; we basically just take turns trying to roll Yahtzee, and don't waste our time keeping score of the other types of rolls. Whoever rolls the most Yahtzee's is the winner. After winning the first game, Mikie informed me that he would always be the winner because he is a "genius". When I sarcastically commented "and modest too", he responded, "No I'm not." At least he's honest. . .

3. This afternoon, I offered Mikie a snack (knowing it was still a while until dinner). Once again, Mikie wanted Scooby Snacks. Although this time, he wanted the cookie snacks, not the gummy snacks (yes, there are multiple types for you non-Scooby Snack connoisseurs). My mom was amused to see that the cookies are shaped like dog biscuits. And, seeing that they were graham cracker flavored, asked Mikie if she could try one. His response, "Sure, Pooks. But you can only have ONE!"

As much a help as he has been, he is definitely testing my patience with his new attitude. Let's hope we all survive the remaining weeks together.

Love, The Trahans

And Then There Were Four

For anyone who hasn't heard, Nibbles has arrived. . . two and a half weeks early. And, as with this entire pregnancy, she made sure to complicate life along the way.

On Tuesday, I went for my 37 week doctor appointment to find out that my blood pressure was elevated. Honestly, I wasn't surprised; I was more surprised that it took 37 weeks to appear. I mean, my hands, feet, legs, were swollen to epic proportions for months. And, when I was pregnant with Mikie, I had high blood pressure for the last four weeks before he arrived.

Unlike my pregnancy with Mikie, my obstetrician ordered me to "modified bed rest". Which meant laying around with my feet elevated, resting, working only if I could do so from the comfort of my bed or couch. This of course was complicated by the fact that Mikie attends preschool near Crabtree - 45 minutes from our house, nearly 2 hours from where Mike works.

So, on Wednesday, Nibbles and I planted ourselves on the couch, surrounded by phones, bottles of water, and the laptop and worked. I was nauseous and having contractions all day, but they were still 10 minutes apart, so I didn't expect too much. At 5pm, it was snowing, so we hopped in the car and drove to pick up Mikie.

Yes, an hour and a half of driving along bumpy back roads through me into labor. Full on painful contractions spaced 1-3 minutes apart. I drove home, and waited patiently for Mike to arrive (knowing that if he thought I was in labor, he would be driving 90mph on the Mass Pike in bad weather). When he arrived, we debated whether or not to go to the hospital. I was sick of going to labor and delivery for monitoring, only to be sent home pregnant. And, I was only 1 cm dilated the day before. But, since I was in too much pain to sleep, we decided to go in.

Show of hands, how many pregnant women have driven themselves to the hospital while in labor? Oh, and while it is snowing? Yeah, I did. Before everyone attacks Mike, I refused to let him drive. I was very nauseous and motion sick, and Mike tries to break records during the 11 mile drive to the hospital. Not wanting to die on the way to the hospital, I thought it best if I did the driving. Not only did I drive us, I dropped the boys at the entrance to the ER, parked the car, and walked back IN THE SNOW to the hospital.

Sure enough, I was still only dilated 1 cm. But, thanks to my OB being on call and my blood pressure being elevated, they decided to keep me. After all, my contractions were close together and this was my second child. SURELY I would deliver quickly.

WRONG! 14 hours later, Nibbles arrived. I'll spare everyone the gory details and switch to what everyone really wants. . . pictures:

Hannah Reilly Trahan arrived at 12:23 pm on February 19th. She weighted in at 7-lbs, 14.7-ozs (on target for 8-lbs 13-ozs if she went to 40 weeks, I might add). And, we defied the genetic odds and got a red head! Hopefully it stays that color.

Mike and Hannah.

Mikie is tickled by just how little his "little sister" is.

Coming home from the hospital (Go Bruins!)

Mikie demonstrates what a good big brother he is by helping feed Nibbles.

Hannah and Grand Da.

Love, The Trahans

My Name is Lauren Trahan. . .

and I pinch people's hineys.

Yes, it's true. Evidently, my problem is severe. Every evening, Mike gets Mikie ready for bed. Mikie can dress himself (he does most mornings), but frequently chooses not to. He will take off all his clothes and run around the house naked. Enter mom, the butt pincher. The threat of a squeeze, and Mikie goes running for cover. And, clothes.

Recently, however, Mikie refuses to even change for bed if I am anywhere near the room he is changing in. Because he doesn't want mom to pinch his butt.

In my defense, I only started this ritual as motivation to get the kid dressed. Nine times out of ten, the threat is enough. But, because it bothers him, I have started making myself scarce as bedtime approaches.

This evening, Mikie came upstairs to our bedroom (where I was PLANNING on working in peace), with underpants and PJ top, looking for his pajama pants. Mike couldn't find the match, so he started to dress Mikie in a new pair of pajamas. Mikie started freaking out, so I assured him that I only squeeze naked butts, not ones wearing clothes or underpants. Not to mention, I move slowly these days, so the idea of moving the laptop, rolling myself out of bed, and walking around the bed to get to him had ZERO appeal.

What did my son do? HE MOONED ME! I mean, I told him I don't squeeze clothed behinds, so he pulls down his underwear and shakes his naked behind in my face. So, I warned him, "It's a good thing I don't move very fast these days, or you'd be in for a squeeze." Did he pull up his pants? NO. He giggled as he continued to taunt me with his naked butt.

How else was I to respond? I mean, he totally asked for it. I hauled my Shamu sized gut out of bed, and was off, encountering no resistance along the way.

I don't know how the 12 step program would work, but I'm guessing I need a new support network if I want to break myself of this addiction. Namely, family members who don't come looking for trouble (or a squeeze as the case may be).

Love, The Trahans

Story Time

This was just too priceless not to capture for posterity. Mikie "reading". To no one in general (I walked in and saw him reading to an empty room). I'm sure if asked, he would have been reading to his imaginary friend, Mousey. What is he "reading". The Lego instruction manual (yes, he take after his father). Interestingly enough, the Lego instruction manual does not have words. It's just a series of pictures, one building on the next. Not that this bothered Mikie in the least. Evidently, the pictures form a whole story that we as adults were too blind to see. And, for anyone who didn't appreciate the "And Then" post, you can see first hand what I meant. Luckily, the clip is only two minutes long, so you shouldn't feel the need to pull your hair out.Love, The Trahans

Daddy's Little Princess

When I was pregnant with Mikie, Mike did a fabulous job decorating Mikie's nursery. Two different paint colors, chair railing, ripping up old carpet, building and painting a toy box and shelves, etc.

With Nibbles, I wanted her to have her own nursery. Different bedding, different artwork. Of course, anyone who knows Mike knows that he would hate this idea because it meant spending even more money. But, he went along with it, because it was important to me for her to have her own experience.

And so began our nursery design. What would the theme be? Nothing too girly, flowery or pink. We somehow came up with a circus theme. Mike found cute, not overly girly bedding at Target with fun circus animals. We picked yellow and purple paint. And, when I insisted on stripes on the wall, he agreed (even though he would be stuck painting by himself).

For the last three months, he has been painting and decorating while I laid back, critiqued, and shopped online. He bought and stained bookshelves, hung chair railing, assembled and arranged furniture. All while working full time and taking care of me and Trouble. After all his hard work, I thought it only fair that I showcase the fruits of his labor. . .Mikie chipped in too. He did help Mike paint the light colored purple on the wall (although Mike may have had to go back over it to fix drips). He also donated some of his baby books and toys to his sister. He helped us pick out Nibble's bear, Maddy (Mikie and I both had Steiff bears since birth; so we got one for Nibble's too), and put her in the crib.

All in all, I think it's safe to say that all the hard work the two Mike's put into this nursery definitely shows how much she is loved already.

Now, we're just stuck waiting for her to show up. . .

Love, The Trahans

And Then

While I know I should be proud that Mikie understands sequential events enough to tell a story, his newest catch phrase is driving me CRAZY. Every phrase is strung together with the words "and then" to form one huge run-on sentence. He can go on like this for a good 20 minutes. And, if you attempt to interrupt him, the "Mom, mom, mom"s start, making me regret I ever taught him my name. And then I agree to listen to "just one more thing" at which point the cycle of "and then"s repeats.

Before locking myself in the bathroom after a recent "story", Mike attempted to show me that I am not alone in the world with an obscure movie reference. For the record, I never liked the movie "Dude, Where's My Car?". In fact, I hated it to the point that I have tried to block out all memories of it from my brain (before they killed the healthy brain cells). But, this scene with Ashton Kutcher PERFECTLY illustrates how I feel by the 5 minute mark in a long string of "and then"s.

Rather than punch something, I once again resorted to "incentives" by informing Mikie that his Valentine (me) might actually buy the toy he was talking about as a gift if he would be nice to me and PLEASE STOP TELLING THE STORY.

As of right now, bribery has bought me 30 minutes of unadulterated silence. Only 40 more minutes until bedtime. . .

Love, The Trahans

The Hug

Or, another futile attempt by Mikie to make me feel beautiful. . .

After Sibling Class, we decided to go to Friendly's for dinner. Mostly because I didn't have the energy after the class to cook, but also because I bribed Mikie with "dinner out" in a futile effort to keep him from destroying the hospital.

As seems to be par for the course lately, the service at Friendly's was less than stellar. Our waitress (who sadly knows us because we eat there so frequently) was great. But, the "cook" left mid-shift, the manager sent another employee home, and the staff started turning away customers at the door, as those of us who already ordered were stuck waiting an hour for food. During this time, Mikie wore on my very thin nerves by headbutting me in the side. That, combined with Nibbles kung-fu kicks me in the ribs, made me realize it was in everyone's best interest if I sat in the car to cool off before losing my temper.

By the time I came back inside, Mikie was apologetic (probably because Mike lectured him while I was outside). Mike told him to give me a hug and kiss. Mikie stood up on the booth, and loosely wrapped his arms around my neck.

Mike: "That was the worst hug I've ever seen."

Mom: "In his defense, it's not easy to hug me, especially when we're cramped in a booth."

Mikie: holding his hands in front of him to form as big a circle as he possibly could "Yeah, I would have to stretch sooo much like this and squeeze and squeeze and it would be so hard."

Mom: "Yes, thank you for the visual demonstration."

Obviously, Mikie thinks that I have more in common with a beached whale than I do. Thankfully, my hormone levels weren't so high that I started crying. And, hopefully, Nibbles will arrive soon, and he will realize I won't be this large forever.

Love, The Trahans

Sibling Class

In addition to our "Childbirth Refresher Class", Mike and I decided to sign Mikie up for "Sibling Class". For $10, I wasn't expecting my four year old to walk away knowing how to change a diaper. I mostly just wanted him to feel special, and, ideally, reinforce in his head that the baby wouldn't come out walking and talking.

It's a good thing my expectations were low, because I'm not sure Mikie absorbed ANYTHING from the class. Granted, it didn't help that the teacher gave the goodie bags containing stickers at the BEGINNING of class. Because Mikie spent the entire time she was talking sticking stickers on his face, the table, Mike, etc. And, when I took them away, he spent the remainder of the class fidgeting, kicking his feet, and trying to wrestle the bag from my grasp to look for more things to annoy me with.

Maybe I should have known better. After all, he'd been at school all day. So I shouldn't have expected him to want to sit quietly and listen for an hour (especially since it is hard enough for him to do that at school.)

After the teacher gave him his certificate officially declaring him a "Big Brother", she asked Mikie and Timothy (the only other child in the class) if they had any questions. Timothy had a question, which was more of a statement (he blurted out that the teacher was a "silly head".) Not realizing that she should quit while she was ahead, the teacher then asked what everyone learned. After an hour of not listening or talking, Mikie stood up and announced that he learned something. Yeah! I'm amazed. I didn't think he absorbed anything. Boy should I have known better. Because Mikie announced "I learned that she doesn't have a penis!"

Note, there was no mention of anatomical parts AT ALL during the class. I was in tears, laughing so hard. The teacher announced that this was by far the most interesting comment she ever heard. And, the other mother was trying to console me with the fact that if Mikie hadn't said something, she was sure Timothy would have embarrassed her with a different comment.

With Mikie as her big brother, Nibbles is in quite for quite an interesting life.

Love, The Trahans