My House is Being Taken Over By Toys!

As I desperately tried to cram Princess's beanie babies, teddy bears, and other stuffed animals into the medium sized bin I'd long ago allocated for stuffed animals, a thought crossed my mind-I needed to go shopping for bigger storage containers. The stuffed animals were overflowing into the doll bin which was overflowing into the box of board books which was overflowing onto the toys shelves which were overflowing onto the floor of my living room. You get the picture.

How did we get so many toys? It's my personal theory that toys secretly procreate in the dark of night, multiplying their numbers so sneakily that you don't even notice it happening until one day you realize that your whole house has been turned into a giant playroom. Of course, the grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and even I am guilty of keeping Princess entertained with an endless supply of new toys to play with. My big pitfall is thrift store and garage sale shopping. My experience usually goes something like this:
"Look at the practically brand new, adorable toy that reminds me of my own childhood and gives me warm, fuzzy feelings inside! And look, it's only 50 cents!! I must buy it for my own child so she too can experience childhood to its fullest!"
I get home and hold my breath as I hand the latest acqusition over to Princess, anticipating shrieks of joy. She takes it from me, examines it briefly, and drops it to the floor so she can play with the the empty lotion bottle I forgot to throw away earlier.


As I contemplated what type of storage bins I could find that would contain the evergrowing population of Princess's toys, the solution hit me. The answer was to make the toys fit into the space we already had. I grabbed a garbage bag and started digging through the stuffed animals. I still haven't figured out why stuffed animals are such a popular gift to give children when I don't know a single child who actually plays with them. Occasionally, Princess will go through the bin and look at each one before wandering off to play with something else, but that is the extent of her interaction with her stuffed animals. So, it was relatively easy to downsize those. Then I started in on the rest of her toys. That was a little more difficult because I didn't want to get rid of toys that were gifts from relatives, but I managed to fill the garbage bag and off it went to Goodwill.



My new worry is that I'm due to have our second child next month and it's a boy. Which means a whole new set of toys geared for boys. I'm not one of those people who insist on toys being gender specific, but I don't think my little farm boy is going to want to play with dolls and other girly stuff ALL the time. He's probably going to want tractors and cars and the relatives will be more than happy to supply him with plenty of those. Another child also means twice as many birthday and Christmas presents for me to find space for. I'm hoping to convince relatives that, instead of giving a bunch of smaller stuff to each child, they can give one bigger gift to both the kids. But we'll see...



Unsolicited Advice: I recently remembered one of my favorite things to play with when I was a kid and decided to recreate it for Princess. When my parents moved back to Minnesota from Florida, my mom filled a cake pan with white sand from the beach. She didn't take it out very often so it was a special treat to get to play with it and it was perfect for when we were stuck inside all winter. Not having access to beach sand, I decided to use white rice to fill my cake pan. You could also use dry beans, oatmeal, gravel, etc.

Third Trimester Joys

Let me just take a moment here to whine. Actually, let's be realistic. Let me just take an hour here to whine.

My stomach hurts from Baby Boy kicking and squirming so much and so hard. My hips hurt and feel like they're falling out of their sockets every time I move. My legs hurt from having to carry all that extra weight around. My feet hurt because I've been wearing non-supportive, slip-on shoes to avoid having to bend over to tie tennis shoes. I've got killer heartburn 79% of the time. It takes me 84 minutes to turn over in bed or get up off the couch. I'm ready for bed around the same time I put Louise to bed. No matter what position I try sitting or laying in, two and half minutes later, I'm uncomfortable again. Judging from my symptoms, it sounds like I might be in my third trimester of pregnancy.

But to be honest, despite the nausea, discomfort, exhaustion, and outright painfulness of pregnancy, I actually do enjoy being pregnant. For a while I can wear clothes without worrying about whether they make me look fat or not, because let's face it, I passed that point around the third month of pregnancy. I like how people are so much nicer to pregnant women, and how just seeing a pregnant woman can seem to cheer some people up. And I love, love, love that there's a tiny baby growing inside of me. Because of my severe asthma messing with basically every part of my life, I somehow assumed that my body wouldn't work right when it came to making another human being. So I was a bit surprised when I found out I was pregnant with Princess, especially since it only took seven months of trying NOT to get pregnant for it to happen. Then I managed to actually carry her to full term (and beyond!) and deliver a healthy beautiful baby girl. Now I'm pregnant again and this time, it took exactly one "oops" moment to conceive. Apparently getting pregnant is not an issue for me.

Unsolicited Advice:
When possible, borrow maternity clothes from a friend or relative or buy them at thrift stores. They're not cheap and you only wear them for a short time really (even if it feels like forever some days) so why spend an arm and a leg on them?

And the Potty Training Stalls

A random observation that I made the other day...when Princess is standing right in front of me hanging onto my legs, I can no longer see her. I also can no longer tell if my socks match unless I'm sitting down. If they don't match, I really don't even care because it was so much work to put them on that there's no way I'm taking them back off again.

It's been two months since we started potty training. Two verrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrry long months. Every single day I have to rinse poopy underwear out in the toilet. Every day. That strikes me as ironic since that is the very reason I chose not to use cloth diapers.

The reason potty training is still going on is because Princess has yet to achieve the final step. She knows exactly what to do on the potty chair and can usually squeeze at least a few drops out to earn her chocolate chip. But she can't tell when she needs to go potty or poop! Kinda a big thing. When we started potty training, she would tell me as she was peeing her pants and would be pretty upset about getting Elmo wet (her underwear of choice). Now, the only way I catch accidents is if I feel a wet spot on her pants or happen to take her to the bathroom at which time I notice that Elmo is not dry.  Princess  will put on a sad face when I tell her that Elmo is wet, but as soon as I put her in clean underwear, she's all happy and smiles again as she declares "Elmo dry!" The only reason Princess doesn't have more accidents is because I know about when she's going to have to go and can usually take her before she goes in her pants. However, while I can tell she's going to need to go potty again soon because it's been a while, poop just kind of comes whenever so I very rarely catch it before I notice green fumes rising from Princess's backside. How in the world do I get her to realize when she has to go so I'm not taking ALL the responsibility for her body functions?!?!? Any advice on this would be GREATLY appreciated!

When we started potty training (and I use the term "we" loosely because, while Hubby was gungho about training her and still is, I'm the one doing all the actual work), Princess used a potty seat that fit over the regular toilet seat. Pretty nifty since I didn't have to rinse out a potty chair. This worked great until I realized that everytime I took her to the bathroom, I would suddenly have an urge to go as well. For a while I would "dance" around the toilet and beg her to hurry up and do her business so I could have a turn. Then I realized that I did have a potty chair stashed in the closet. Duh. Now we both go in there and get our own toilets.Princess  is thrilled because she gets to go potty with mama and I'm thrilled because I no longer have to worry about peeing my pants while I wait for my two year old to use the toilet. However, this has led her to believe that everytime I use the bathroom, she should be welcomed in the bathroom as well even if she isn't using her potty chair. If I dare to close the door, I have to listen to pounding on the door and plaintive cries of "mama, mama, mama." Recently, Princess has decided to be independent when it comes to going potty and if I try to follow her into the bathroom to give her a hand, she slams the door in my face and tells me, "Go away, mama!" How is this fair? My two year old gets more privacy in the bathroom than I do!

Give Me My Music and I'll Be Happy

Do men design maternity clothes? Seriously. I'm only 6 1/2 months along and most of my clothes do not fit me or are too uncomfortable to wear. Most of my pants have the under-the-belly band which may look cute on a woman who's four months pregnant, but are ridiculously uncomfortable past that point. They dig into my stomach and slide down so far that I spend most of my day hitching them back up and terrified to bend over in public lest they slip down even farther. And since my pants are hanging out somewhere below my belly, that means that most of my maternity shirts are not long enough to cover said belly. Unfortunately, the beer gut look has just never been my thing.

A lady came up to the desk at the library to check out her books while I was working (I work a few days a week at the library in addition to my babysitting job). She eyed my bourgeoning stomach and made the clever observation, "It looks like you're going to have a baby soon."

I replied that I still had almost three months to go. Her eyes widened in surprise as she said, "You must have really big babies!" Thanks. Every pregnant woman wants to hear that. And for the record, my last baby was two weeks overdue and was still under seven pounds.

Lately, a lot of people have been noticing the baby bump and making the astute observation that I'm pregnant. I wish I had a little more nerve. If I did, I would respond with an astonished look and say, "Oh my word! That's what that is?! And here I thought I was just putting on a little weight!"

Ever since we bought our minivan and found out that the cool cd player that holds 6 cds at a time skips so badly that it's useless, I've been a little depressed every time I get into my wonderful roomy van. While driving, I've had to rely on the radio, which doesn't pick up any good stations, for my music addiction. Hubby and I have talked about replacing the cd player which obviously wouldn't be cheap. As money is a little tight right now, that obviously wouldn't be happening for...a long time. We would probably be able to do that around the same time we would be able to trade in the van for a newer model. So today, I skimmed through all five (seriously, they couldn't condense it all into one book?) of the owner's manuals that came with the van and made a shocking discovery. It turns out that the dvd player plays cds. Who woulda thunk it? Of course, the little "CD-R" symbol on the dvd player never clued me in, and the fact that most dvd players also happen to play cds just didn't occur to me. Do the words "blonde moment" come to your mind when you read this? To make my day of discovery and elation even better, the woman whose kids I babysit gave me a little gadget today because she has no need for it anymore. I have no idea what it's called, but it plugs into the vehicle power outlet (not cigarette lighter because those are no longer in style along with the little ash trays that were in all the vehicles when I was a kid and were fun to stuff full of trash) and hooks up to an mp3 player. This means that my mp3 player (which Hubby got as a Christmas gift from his boss one year and gave to me because I drooled over it so much) can be used in the van! Without headphones! Okay, I know I'm pathetically backwards when it comes to technology. Right now I'm trying to find a vcr to replace ours since it no longer plays videotapes. I've gone to quite a few different stores and asked if they carried just a vcr, not a vcr/dvd combo since I have a perfectly good dvd player. The looks I've gotten have ranged from disbelief to downright mocking.

Didn't We Used to be Friends?

Okay, so it's been a while since I've updated my blog. During the time I've been absent, Princess has turned two and I've entered my third trimester of pregnancy.

For Princess's birthday party, we had a family gathering consisting of Hubby's parents, one set of grandparents, two siblings and their families and my parents, one set of grandparents, four siblings and their families. Our smallish family gathering amounted to 30 people in my big, but not huge living room. If somebody turned to talk to someone on their left, that meant that everyone turned to talk to the person on their left. The eight children under the age of 5 at the party spent most of their time in Princess's room playing which was good because there really wasn't any space for them to play in the living room. It was a lot of fun, but completely exhausting especially since I was 6 months pregnant.

After the party, I surveyed the (large) corner of the living room which has been overrun by Princess's toys, the coffee table which has four more boxes of toys in it, and the closet in Princess's room which is full of toys as well. I'm still trying to figure out how in the world her toys multiplied so fast. When she was an infant, all of her toys fit in an ice cream bucket. Then before she turned one, she took over the bottom shelf of the coffee table. Sometime before she got to 18 months, I had to give her toys a complete corner of the living room in addition to the coffee table. Now she has so many toys that I rotate them, storing some in her bedroom closet and taking them out when she gets bored with the ones she has. Don't accuse me of indulging her though. One time not that long ago, I went through and counted the toys I had actually purchased for Princess and came up with a figure less than 15.

Now that I'm in my third trimester, I find Hubby to actually be likeable again. Maybe it has to do with the fact that I'm carrying a boy this time or something, but when I was pregnant with Princess, I remember liking my husband the whole time. This time was different, much to Hubby's dismay. I can almost pinpoint the day I got pregnant because it's the day I started to STRONGLY dislike poor Hubby for absolutely no reason and for no fault of his. I loved him, but I just didn't like him much. I knew I was being unreasonable, but he couldn't do anything right no matter how hard he tried. In my second trimester, I began to tolerate him. Not that I liked him that much, but I was no longer so antagonistic (he may disagree with this statement somewhat). Now that I'm in my third trimester, I like the guy again.

The weird thing is that my sister, who is due 2 weeks before I am (and had a baby 6 weeks before I did last time), has felt the same way during her pregnancy. Maybe our husbands should have formed a defensive club and called it "Hormones Kill."

Tum, Tu Tu Tu Tums.

My favorite foods right now.
1. Chocolate
2. Anything with a tomato based sauce
3. Cheese
4. Tums Extra Strength

I have acid reflux disease bad enough that unless I take a daily preventative pill, there is a constant burning in my esophagus. Now, add being pregnant and being taken off my usual medication as it's not safe for pregnant women, to that. Fun times! Tums are my favorite dessert nowadays.

Last Friday (New Years Day to be exact. What a way to start off the new year), I put Princess in underwear and we said goodbye to her diapers. Well, she said "goodbye", I said, "See ya at nap time." She was incredibly thrilled about her Elmo underwear and I stressed how important it was to keep Elmo dry so he wouldn't be sad. Day one was great. She pooped in her underwear in the morning, but that was the only accident. That night as I got ready for bed, I thought about how easy this was going to be. Haha. Day two, she pooped in her underwear once and peed in them 4 times. About 25% of the time, she tells me when she has to go and actually does. Other times, she tells me she has to go, but as soon as I put her on the toilet, she hops off saying, "all done!" The rest of the time, she tells me after the fact by standing in one spot and saying "wet" repeatedly until I tell her to walk to the bathroom, at which point she walks with her legs as far apart as possible without actually falling over.

Is there some magic time when kids just get it and go to the bathroom before peeing in their pants? Or should I put Princess back in diapers until it's time to send her to school? That probably wouldn't go over well as she throws a major fit everytime I put her in a diaper to sleep in. On Sunday, I really didn't want to deal with poopy underwear at church, so I put her in a pull-up. She rebelled by refusing to use the toilet for most of the morning.

So now that Christmas is over, the cardboard boxes have been played with and thrown out, the Christmas cookies are going stale, and the new toys are squeezed in every inch of space there was left in the toy area, I have to start planning birthdays. Hubby's birthday is mid-January, but is almost forgotten in my frantic planning of Princess's party in late-January. Here's a fun bit of trivia: I'll be almost exactly 6 months pregnant on Louise's birthday. The theme for Princess's 2nd birthday is Princess. I'm going to attempt to make her a cake that looks like a castle with the help of ice cream cones. I also made her an adorable pink tutu out of tulle to wear for her party which she is terrified of and refuses to put on. Maybe the promise of presents will help persuade her. :)

Unsolicited Advice:
If at all possible, find someone else to take your child home with them to potty train. Way less mess for you.

Observations On Minnesota in Winter

Minnesotans develop the "winter hunch" which is actually two different things with the same name. The first winter hunch is when people are walking outside during winter. Good posture disappears in Minnesota at this time and is replaced with hunched shoulders and a bowed head. This is partly because people are trying to shield themselves from the cold and partly because their winter jackets are so heavy that they can't stand up straight anymore.
The second winter hunch is one that most Minnesotans think they have. It goes something like this, "Uff-da, I got a hunch it's gonna snow tonight, and ya betcha we're gonna get stuck at home tomorrow." "Yup, better head to the grocery store and buy us some more lefse/flour to make lefse to get us through."

Two lane roads turn into one lane roads overnight. When the snowplow goes through, it pushes all the snow from the middle of the street onto the side of the street, creating huge mountains of snow right along where cars would normally park. This leaves little to no room for parking and definitely space for only one car to drive on the street at a time. If you're heading up a hill in winter, you better pray you don't meet someone coming down because one of you is going to have to back up, and it'll probably be you because the other guy won't be able to back UP the icy hill to let you through.

Small children disappear during the winter and are replaced by small abominable snowman-type creatures. Some theorize that this is due to the 14 layers most parents put on their child before allowing them to go outdoors in the winter.

Ya sure, ya betcha it's cold! 'Nuff said.

People who visit Minnesota in the spring bring home tales of ghosts and strange people who wear shorts when it's 48 degrees outside. A typical Minnesotan's skin only sees sunlight for about 4 months out of the year which means that after a long winter, they're literally as white as a ghost. Minnesotans are also known for thinking that any temperature over the freezing point is shorts and sandals weather.

Winter in Minnesota would be the perfect time to commit a crime. Everyone's bundled up from head to toe with only their eyes showing anyways, so a burglar could easily blend into a crowd. He also could get away without anyone being able to identify his vehicle because it would be probably be covered with snow, sand from the roads, and slush. His license plate would be covered up by the miniature snowdrifts that build up on anything that isn't completely smooth, making a positive ID practically impossible. Unless he's like that one crook I heard of on the radio the other day. He was very careful all the way through the burglary, but made one little mistake as he left. He backed into a snow bank to pull out and left a perfect imprint of his license plate in the snow, leading police straight to his door. Oops.

Occasional frostbite is nothing to get excited over. Don't try telling other Minnesotans that the tip of your pinkie got frostbitten while you were out shoveling 2 feet of snow and expect them to be impressed. It happens and it's no big deal.

When schools close for a snow day during a blizzard, it generally doesn't deter people from going anywhere. So the kids have a snow day? Load 'em up in the car and let's go shopping!

During the summer, Minnesotans talk about the road construction. During the winter, they talk about the weather. When it hits 20 below 0, Minnesotans start using the phrase, "Cold 'nuff fer ya?" liberally. At that point, most will also start wearing a knit hat outdoors as well.

Milk and Minivans

I've come to terms with having a boy and am throwing myself wholeheartedly into the color blue. On a recent shopping trip, I purchased blue pacifiers, blue receiving blankets, blue sleepers, and a blue pacifier holder. I could use what I had from Princess, but most of her baby accessories are pink. I made sure to get neutral colored big ticket items, like the baby swing, bouncy seat, etc., but went crazy with pink for everything else. So this time, I'm going crazy with blue and no matter what I have next time around, I'll be prepared.

After drinking very well from her cup for a while, Princess has started throwing her cup (full) of milk on the floor again. I had read somewhere that if your child is begging for a bottle when he or she is too old for it, go ahead and give it to them. The child will soon tire of working so hard for such a small amount of milk and will want their cup back. So I figured why wouldn't this work on Princess? She went in time-out for throwing her cup and when she came back, I handed her a baby bottle with a slow flow nipple. I told her that because she wasn't being a big girl when she threw her cup, that she could no longer have a big girl cup and had to drink from a bottle like a baby. She was hesitant to take the bottle from me at first so I set it on her high chair tray and left the room to get a load of laundry out of the dryer. When I came back to the kitchen, Princess's food was untouched and she was blissfully sucking on the bottle. She took it out long enough to smile happily at me, and I took the opportunity to reinforce the theory that bottles are for babies just in case she didn't get it the first time.
"I baby." she said, popping it back into her mouth.
Okay, maybe that would've worked better if she weren't obsessed with babies and everything about them. Guess I'll demote her to a sippy cup for a while and keep giving her time-outs every time the cup lands on the floor. Hopefully she'll get the idea that throwing her cup is NOT acceptable, and I'll be able to upgrade her back to a regular cup before she turns three.

Remember that nice minivan I mentioned in my last post? Less than two weeks after buying it (or to be more specific, taking out a loan for it), I managed to scratch the sliding door on the driver's side. I very stupidly thought I could get out of a parking spot that most other drivers would be able to get out of without mishap. I forgot to take into consideration that I AM A TERRIBLE DRIVER! The term "woman driver" is not without some truth in my house. The local body shop in town gets a good laugh every time I come in because I'm what you would call a regular there, and my mishaps are generally incredibly stupid. My dad who was with me when I scratched the van, called them up before I could get there and told them what happened. When I walked in the door I was met with snorts of laughter. The owner's wife told me that she'd heard I hadn't even gotten it off the car lot before wrecking the van. Which was somewhat true because I was back at the dealership having a new latch put in the glove compartment when I scratched the van.

The first time I damaged a car was 6 days after getting my license. I was attempting to adjust the radio while going around a curve and ended up going off the road, flying through a mailbox, over a driveway, went airborne over a ditch, and landed in a cornfield narrowly missing a light pole. I was fine, but had the joy of calling Hubby, then my boyfriend, at work and telling him that I'd wrecked his car which he was loaning me until I could get my own. After that incident, he still married me though, so whenever he gets mad at me for doing something to whatever vehicle I'm currently driving, I remind him that he knew what he was getting into when he married me.

Unsolicited Advice:
I recently read two books that I recommend for any parent. "Time-Out for Toddlers" by Dr. James W. Varni and "It Works For Us" by Tom McMahon. The second book is a compilation of helpful tips for just about every child-rearing situation from hundreds of different parents.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Happy Thanksgiving, all!
We had a relaxing, enjoyable day. Although I enjoy hosting Thanksgiving, the size of my house prohibits me from doing so. Instead, we went to my sister, Elizabeth's large house to celebrate. At one point during the day, I realized how relaxing it is to go somewhere else for holidays. I didn't have to clean my house, get up early to put the turkey in, find enough dishes and places at the table for everyone, or deal with the mess when everybody leaves.

I have some news to share. On Tuesday, Hubby and I went for my first ultrasound at 18 weeks gestation. It was really neat to see my baby for the first time. We asked the ultrasound technician if it was a boy or a girl and she asked us what we thought it was. I told her that Princess had assured me it was a boy. As the tech moved the wand to verify, we could very obviously see that Princess was correct! I made sure the tech printed us a picture of the "proof" to embarrass the poor boy with when he gets older.

To be honest though, I was hoping for a girl. I had several reasons for this, the top one being that Hubby thinks that with one of each, we're done having kids. Ummmm, I'm not done yet. I'm not ready for this to be my last pregnancy, my last baby, my youngest child. I also was hoping for a girl because I was kind of looking forward to getting Princess's baby clothes back out and dressing the two alike for special occasions. Having a sister close in age to me, I wanted to give that experience (good and bad) to Princess. I'm really not sure what to do with a boy. Having a boy means buying new clothes, bibs, and accessories. It means a whole new set of toys (and I've already run out of space!) and it means I'm going to be mother to a son. I'm all girl. I'm all about the frills, baby dolls, abundance of pink, and everything else that means girls. A boy is strange territory to me. When my mother found out what I was having, she thought about it a while and then confessed that she really can't see me with a boy. In about 5 months though, that's what's going to happen. But I know that I will learn as I go along just as I did with Princess and the minute they lay my baby boy in my arms, I will fall so madly in love with him that I can't imagine not having him there.

When Hubby and I found out that we're having a boy, we celebrated by buying a blue minivan. We got a fairly decent price on a Honda Odyssey and so came home with ultrasound pictures and a new vehicle. I know that we don't technically need a minivan yet since we'll only have two kids, but my sister and I go a lot of places together. With two carseats in the back of the car, it gets too crowded to buy a lot of groceries (we live 45 minutes from the nearest "big" city so we stock up when we go.) Since she and I are both expecting baby #2 in April, a minivan was a must. Also, because Hubby and I take so many LONG trips (6+ hours one way), a dvd system in the vehicle is a huge plus for us.

Anyways, it's 9 pm and it's been a long day. Signing off.

You Have It So Easy!

It was Sunday morning before church. Hubby was relaxing on the couch with the tv remote having already showered, shaved, and put on the suit and tie I'd picked out for him. I was simultaneously packing the diaper bag, picking out a dress for Princess and cutting up a pear for her breakfast. As I chased my squealing daugher with her ruffled fuschia dress and a pair of tights, I glanced enviously at Hubby lounging on the couch with not a thing to do, but watch tv. After corraling Princess and pinning her down long enough to wrestle the dress over her head, I made it a point to stop in the living room and give an exaggerated sigh. Hubby obliviously channel surfed so I decided to use a more direct method of conveying my frustration.
With a look of confusion, Hubby tore his eyes off the tv long enough to glance at me, "What'd you kick me for?" he asked.
"Because I'm doing everything as usual and you're just sitting there not lifting a finger to help me!"
"If you want my help, just ask!"
I instructed him to feed Princess her breakfast while I attempted to find a skirt and shirt for myself that matched and was not wrinkled.
Somehow I managed to get dressed and finish packing the diaper bag while answering 872 questions from Hubby about how to feed Princess breakfast. After she was done with breakfast, Hubby went back to the tv while I cleaned up the mess the two of them had made in the kitchen.
On the car ride to church, I thought about how nice it must be to be a dad.
Hubby didn't have to go through nine months of pregnancy, give birth or struggle with the first painful months of nursing. He didn't have to discipline and entertain a toddler all day, rock a sick child all night long, or try to figure out what 4 foods Princess currently accepted as edible.
As my resentment grew, I happened to glance in the backseat where Princess sat strapped into her carseat. Then I realized something. Hubby didn't get to experience the joy and wonder of new life growing within for nine months. He didn't get to go through the life changing experience of giving birth to that new life or gaze into the adoring eyes of a tiny baby as she filled her tummy with warm milk that he provided. He didn't get to spend all day with a toddler who was constantly learning new things and being incredibly cute about it. He didn't get to comfort that toddler when she didn't feel good and spend time just holding her in his arms. What Hubby got to do was go to work all day and come home to listen to me tell him about all the adorable things she'd done that day. He didn't get to spend much time with her because of his work and had to ask me to interpret most of what she said because he wasn't around her enough to know.
Even though at times it can be stressful and it's the hardest job I have ever and will ever do, I decided right then that I would much rather be a mom.

Unsolicited Advice:
To make it easier in the morning, I (sometimes) will pick out clothes the night before and pack the diaper bag. I've found it's easier to pack the diaper bag when I remember to fill it back up with diapers and wipes whenever it's running low instead of waiting until right before I have to be somewhere.