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