We used to have nice things. We used to be able to walk across the floor without sticking to it. We used to be able to walk from one end of the house to the other, in the dark, and not have McDonald's toys impaled on our feet. We used to be able to sit on the couch and not get cookie crumbs stuck to our butts (okay, well maybe that's not strictly true). We didn't always smell like sour milk. But 2 years and 2 babies later, and all of a sudden we are living in a frat house. It smells, there are all sorts of odd and sundry activities going on at all hours of the night, and we keep a lot of liquor on hand. Every surface in the house has been peed on, pooped on, or puked on. It's like Animal House with sippy cups instead of beer bongs. However, there is an upside to all the mayhem. We have discovered that you CAN actually ferment milk in a sippy cup. Baby cheese, created in small, artisanal batches, now available at your local Farmer's Market along with Couch Cheez-Its (of unknown vintage). Gotta pay for college somehow ;)
Today on the medical school campus where I work a 7 month old baby died because she was left in a parked car for 4 hours in 95 degree heat. Her mother is a pediatrician and her father is a researcher. I do not know who they are, because the names have not yet been released. I may know them, at least by reputation. What I do know is that I walk through that parking lot every morning on my way in to work. This morning I went in early and I took the shuttle bus. I wish I had been late or walked or someone had seen her earlier. Meghan is only a few weeks older than the baby that died and I can't look at her without thinking how horrible it must be to lose a child and especially in such a way. I look at my baby girl, all sweet softness, and I rub her satiny cheeks, kiss her rosebud mouth, nuzzle her velvety soft head and I think please god help me to protect her, take care of her, never let her down, never forget her, never overlook anything, misunderstand anything, never make a mistake! I look at Meghan and I see a baby trapped in a car, in the sun, sweltering. I wonder, did she wake up and realize she was all alone? Did she cry? Did she want her mother? The knee jerk reaction is to think how stupid someone must be to forget a child is in the car, but to me it is a reminder of how we can all be just one stupid mistake, one miscommunication away from tragedy.
I have to go check on my sleeping babies one more time.
I was so excited to go to the park with Mommy and Daddy and Meghan! I had to do everything! First, I went on the see-saw with Daddy. Then I had to climb up high! I did it all by myself! Do you see how high I climbed? Note Daddy's nonchalant stance and the fact that Mommy is busy photographing. Did I mention how high up I climbed? Ernie up high! (For those planning to alert DCFS after seeing this alarming series of photos, please note the size of child in relation to the playground equipment and, using gravity as a constant, extrapolate the maximum velocity said child would reach if, given the characteristic lack of fear in the average 2 year old, he should decide to take a header off said playground equipment. On second thought, let's not.)
Whee! Slides rock!!! I do again! (and again, and again, and again.....) Swings, not so much. Now I'm driving the bus.
Seriously dudes, the park rocks. You should like totally get your mommy and daddy to take you.
Happy birthday my dear, sweet, Ernie. Two years have gone by so fast, and my little angel baby is now such a big boy. I hope you enjoyed your day of choo-choos, cake and presents. Your nap-free day of juice and pops and M's. Your 24 hour, no holds-barred, sugar-fueled rave. A 2 year-old's fantasy camp. You are pure sunshine and joy and all that is right in the world. You are a treasure to all who know you and love you. And you have quite a fan club. You also have a mommy who is completely unbiased in her opinion that you are the smartest, most adorable, most charming, sweetest, and most completely loveable little boy in the whole world. So happy birthday my dear, sweet Ernie. I hope you enjoyed all the cake, and presents, and fun. And thank you for giving me the greatest gift in the world by making me your Mommy.
10. Hearing your 2 year old say "dammit" and being happy it wasn't the F word. 9. Farting and blaming it on the baby. (Daddy likes this one!) 8. You can serve toaster waffles and fried hotdogs for dinner and kids think you're a gourmet chef. 7. Having a constant supply of snacks in your car (Teddy Grahams, animal crackers) even if you do have to eat them off the floor. 6. You can look like you just crawled out of a dumpster and everyone will be too distracted by your radioactively cute children to notice. 5. Baby handprints (and face prints) all over your floor length mirrors and sliding glass doors 4. Saying "night-night" to the dogs, the stuffed animals, the choo-choos, outside, the basketball hoop, and the bathtub. 3. How enjoyable it is to interject comments about baby poopy, pee-pee, boogers and farts into adult conversation. 2. Mommies can fix everything (at least your kids think so). 1. Picking a really big booger out of a really tiny nose.
Ernie and Meghan now have a blog (well technically, their PR mouthpiece Mommy has a blog). Why a blog you ask? Is it because: a. I am an uber-hip techno mom. Coming soon: Baby podcasts! b. All the other cool Mommies are doing it and I felt like a slacker c. Ernie and Meghan's hordes of obsessive fans (read: grandparents) demand more updates, more stats, more pictures!!!!
Okay, if you know me at all you know that the answer is mostly c with a little bit of b thrown in. Answer a is completely out of the question.
So enjoy. I can't promise how often I will post, but I will do my best to keep these pages full of chubby baby goodness for your viewing pleasure.
Name: Ernest Franklin Reinwald Height: 36 inches Weight: 35 pounds Nicknames: E-man, E-dogg, Busy E, Monkey Turn ons: Choo-choos, puppies, Elmo, baths, whole bags of cookies Turn offs: mustard, loud noises, time outs
Name: Meghan Elizabeth Reinwald Height: 25 inches Weight: 17 pounds Nicknames: Miss Meghan, Meggie Moos, Butterball Turn ons: Bottles, clean diapers, thumb sucking, gazing into the mirror Turn offs: poopy pants, teething, having my boogers sucked out