Pan-pee

Penelope is 18 months old today.

She can say her name now. We really worked with her to say her full name, not a shortened version or nickname. 4 syllables is a lot for a tiny girl though. All on her own, she came up with Pan-pee. It's perfect.

This girl wants to be be just like her big sister. The first thing she asks for in the morning and the last thing she talks about at night is sissy. She follows Beatrice around all day and mimics everything she does. Beatrice mostly loves it. They are BFF and inseparable. I love it so much.

She is a talker. There's not a lot she can't say or won't try to say. Her Rs are really funny sounding so my favorite words are bear, more, and frog.

I love this girl. She is funny and sweet, feisty and smart. She is so, so wonderful. I can't believe she's almost not a baby anymore. Slow down, Pan-pee.

I'm Invisible

On any given day, I am tripped, my feet are stomped on, and my back is tweaked from 30 lbs of 3 year old dangling from my neck while 20 lbs of baby demands to be held while I vacuum/cook/get dressed. Tonight, my open eye was poked by a hair barrette.

I am snotted upon, pooped on, and barfed on somewhat regularly. Did I mention that no one listens to me? Ever. And by no one, I mean Beatrice and Penelope. And JD has never pooped on me, just so we're clear. I know all of this comes with the territory of having little ones, but couple all of the painful and gross assaults on my person with the fact that my kids disregard the majority of what I say, I pretty much feel invisible.

Penelope is going through a weird thing where she flips out when I get her up from her nap. When I open her door and smile at her with a cheery, "wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey!", she SCREAMS, "go!" and throws herself on her bed, kicking and flailing. She cries and screams at me, "no mama! Go!" until I either leave her room or bribe her with yogurt covered raisins if she'll please stop freaking out. It really hurts my feelings.

Last night, I asked Beatrice for a hug before bed. At first she refused, then took a flying leap and jumped on me, pulling my neck down and causing me to fall over sideways. I have neck and back pain issues already so this attack of love definitely did not help. I still hurt and can barely move my neck. I yelled and cried.

I am constantly reminding my children that mommy is a person too. When someone tells me dinner is yucky or throws an epic fit over a diaper change that they asked for, I say, "hey, Mommy has feelings too." Because I do. It doesn't help that all day long I hear about how great daddy is. Beatrice likes to tell me, "I never miss you when I'm with Daddy. He takes care of me always."

Obviously, my kids are little and cannot understand that it hurts me when they poke my eyes and that it makes me sad when they dump Cheerios on the floor for fun after they just watched me clean. But when they ignore everything I say (can you please share with your sister?, can you stay out of the road?, can you help me carry your toys upstairs?), I want to scream. And cry. I feel completely invisible to these kids most of the time. This is pretty ironic considering I do almost everything for them all day long.

I love taking care of my kids. I take every granola bar that is crumbled into the freshly vacuumed floor in stride. I refill the tub with new water and bubbles 3 and 4 times while my back breaks, because they love it. I mend princess gowns and crochet purses late at night, knowing full well that the very same gown will be mangled on the playground and the purse will be left at Target tomorrow. I do for my girls because I love them and I'm their mother; it's my job.

But being treated like a human napkin and getting beat up on regularly is sort of getting me down. I absolutely love having little kids, but I'm kinda looking forward to the day when my kids realize that mommy is not their personal punching bag. Mommy might like to enjoy a clean room (whole house? Hahahahahahaha!) for longer than a few hours. But most of all, Mommy just wants to be listened to and obeyed most of the time. Mommy is not invisible.

Best Buds (and Suds)

My brother and sister in law gave Penelope a stuffed dog for Christmas.

It was love at first sight. All babies she loved prior to receiving this dog were yesterday's news. She named him Woof Woof and he hasn't left her side since December 25th.

Foofy, as we sometimes call him, is filthy. His neck fur is matted and crusted with remnants of many snacks. He smells like a mixture of feet and bad breath. He has been in the dirt at the playground, on the bathroom floor, in the sand at the beach, on the road, and in countless shopping carts. He is gross and desperately needs a bath.

The only problem is prying him out of Penelope's kung fu grip. She has him clutched tightly around the neck every waking hour and all throughout the night. She won't let him out of her grip, let alone her sight long enough for me to wash and dry him.

Today, I had to do something about the smelly dog. Foof had unidentifiable stains and crunchy spots on him. The situation had gone too far. He needed a bath! We were going out to dinner so I knew I had a couple of hours to leave him home to dry. I convinced Penelope that he needed a bath. She was okay with it until I shut the washing machine door.

The next 34 minutes were filled with whimpering, crying, and constant vigil at the washing machine. Penelope was not okay with her beloved Woof Woof going round and round all by himself. Her only consolation was that there were bubbles in his bath. She thought that was pretty cool.

I did my best to keep her mind off of her absent buddy during the wash cycle, but she asked for him constantly. I set him out to dry while we left for dinner, hoping he'd be fluffy and dry when we returned. His belly was a little damp when we got home so I put him in the dryer for a 20 minute air fluff. The verdict?

Good as new! Foofy is soft, fluffy, and smells like a spring flower. Penelope was so happy to see him again. Best buds, these two!

XO

Love letters and coffee. Heart-shaped pancakes. Valentine exchange at the park. Kisses before nap. Texting my honey sweet nothings. Kisses after nap. Sister love. Mama love. Daddy love. Romantic meatloaf dinner for 4. Bedtime cuddles. Love.

XO

Coffee Break

When I was in college, I had 3 or 4 jobs. My favorite was as a barista/manager at Starbucks. The cool thing about working at Starbucks is they send their team members to coffee school where we learned the ins and outs of coffee growing/roasting/brewing and taste-tested all sorts of coffees with different foods that brought out the flavor notes each brew offered. It was a really cool learning experience and jump started my love (and knowledge) of good coffee.

These days, getting a coffee house latte is a rare treat. With kids and schedules and budgets, they're not something that I get to enjoy often. The other day, I was digging around in our laundry room and found a hidden and forgotten treasure: my stovetop espresso/latte maker. I was/am so excited. Now I get to enjoy an espresso or latte anytime I want!

I used to be able to get my milk a lot frothier so I need to figure that out, but otherwise it makes a tasty latte. I'm treating myself right now!

Penelope's Room

It's been 7 months since I posted Beatrice's room tour on here. I meant to post Penelope's right after, but I forgot. Oops. Better late than never, right?!

Our baby has the smallest bedroom in the house. I've tried to utilize the space she does have to give her a place to play and keep all of her favorite things. I'm also fighting the white walls, white carpet, and white trim with color and a mix of patterns.

Penelope has the majority of the nursery furniture in her room. That means both girls' clothes are crammed in this one dresser and closet (door on the right). My girls are definitely blessed with tons of clothes, but I loathe putting away their laundry because of the lack of space. I imagine this will only get worse as they get older and want more clothes.

This is my baby dress I wore as a wee one. Both of my girls have worn it too.

We have a playroom in the basement, but each of the girls have some of their favorite toys in their rooms too. Penelope has a toy bin next to her chair. She loves to sit and read books to her babies or empty her toys all over the floor. I actually enjoy playing in their rooms more than going downstairs.

I made the curtains in her room about 100 years ago when I lived in my very first apartment all by myself (I was 19 or 20). I fell in love with this silk toile fabric and without a pattern (or clue what I was doing), I came up with these cinched, tassel-y beauties. I still love the fabric and am glad I saved them.

Penelope has the same crib bedding that Beatrice used when she was a baby. I took the bumper off to wash a few months ago and never put it back on. Poor 2nd child. I keep her bed cozy with pretty sheets, handmade blankets, and her favorite babies. The bunting hanging over her crib was made by cutting triangles out of fabric and hot gluing them to yarn. Because of earthquakes, we aren't supposed to hang anything heavy over beds. 

I love the poms I made for Beatrice's room, but wanted something different for Penelope's space. I chose these paper lanterns in bright colors to hang in the corner of her room.

A few odds and ends:

I really like both of my girls' spaces. I think they are happy with them too.

Valentine's Day Hat

With Valentine's Day around the corner, I wanted to make a sweet hat for the girls. I came up with this little ditty:

Check out that pretty model! 

Just for you, I'm offering 25% off my Etsy shop with the code BLOGLOVE. Order your little Valentine something sweet!