The Mrs. Yoy Blog: The Quarantine Coronacles

Big E has always been a great sleeper.  Until recently (damn you daylight savings!), I could get away with putting him to sleep for the night between 6:30 and 7 and he'd sleep until 7:30 in the morning.  It was amazing and I was very grateful. I understand that as he gets older he needs less sleep,  The problem is, he is harder to take care of as he gets older and, therefore, Mrs. Yoy needs more sleep.  It seems to be a problem without a solution. I find myself doing activities intentionally to wear Big E out.  It's not that he doesn't love running back and forth across our lawn a hundred times as we run football drills comparable with the Dallas Cowboys.  It's just maybe my intentions are split between me wanting him to have fun and me wanting to exhaust him for bedtime. Clearly, my theory is flawed.  I put him in bed about an hour ago.  I tucked him in and did the whole song and dance. It is late. Mommy is going night-night, too. Little E is also sleepi

I get this question, or some variance of it, at least once a day. Little E is a chubs.  I am aware.  I feed him no more than I fed Big E, who was also a little chubs until he started crawling. I know people are just trying to be funny, but after the one millionth time it gets old. Next time someone asks me what I am feeding Little E, I am going to look them straight in the eye and say... STICKS OF BUTTER

It was like a murder scene, except instead of blood, it was sweet potato and it was everywhere. In every crack, crevice, and wrinkle of Little E's body there was a slick orange coating.  It had been mixed with bananas which made it worse.  It was like a body mask.  I wish I had taken pictures because I cannot even begin to do the scene justice. I weighed my options.  My first thought was to just recline the highchair all the way back and let Little E sleep there tonight.  Just the thought of cleaning off the little yoy was making me exhausted.  I'd deal with it in the morning, or let Mr. Yoy handle it when he got home. Then I envisioned rolling his highchair onto the patio, unwinding the garden hose and just blasting away.  It is 90 degrees here today, so the cold water would probably feel good. My motherly instincts got the best of me and I took him out of the highchair and brought him upstairs to take a bath.  While I was drawing the bath, Little E sat in his diaper o

6 PM on Saturday, May 21st came and went.  According to Harold Camping, this was to be the end of the world. I took this looming event to reflect and carefully choose what I wanted to do during my last Saturday here on Earth. Naturally, the Yoys ended up at Chuckie Cheese.  Both Mr. Yoy and I were big fans of the place dating back to when we were children.  Which,  is also the last time we had been there.  Also, they advertise on Georgia Public TV consistently, so Big E talks about Chuckie like he is his long, lost friend. After spending the evening hours there, I can honestly say that I did experience rapture.  I'm pretty sure going to Chuckie Cheese on a Saturday night is synonymous with the end of the world. It was dirty, chaotic, and crowded.  Big E loved it, of course.  We gravitated to the skeeball machines where we did our best to win tickets to redeem an awesome prize. After pooling our winnings with the Neighbor Yoys (yes we dragged them into our mad world) we h

Today, Big E is officially 2.5.  We have made it halfway to five.  Here's hoping the next 2.5 years will be a little less trying on my patience. I feel I have earned the right to be delusional. While I am typing this he is in his crib singing "Happy Birthday". How appropriate!

Big E loves himself any sort of truck/car with a purpose.  This includes, but is not limited to: 1) Fire trucks 2) Garbage trucks 3) School buses 4) Ambulances 5) Police cars 6) Mail trucks 7) Gas tankers Today, we had the perfect storm converge on the front of our house right as we got home from preschool.  I was unloading Big E and our mailman pulled up.  I took Big E out so he could wave hello.  Just then a Fulton County Sheriff pulled up and exchanged words with the mailman.  (I'm assuming they were talking about the gobs and gobs of mail that is stolen from our neighborhood weekly, but who knows for sure).  And if that wasn't enough to push the little Yoy over the edge the garbage truck came barreling down our street.  The driver, a friendly lady, slowed down and gave Big E and couple of honks. This kid was in heaven.  He didn't know what to do.  He just started rattling off everything he saw. Mail!  Garbage!  Police! I swear his head turned in a compl

I'm pretty sure that by the time Big E is four years old, he will have no teeth.  Not because his baby teeth will have fallen out by then, but because they will have rotted out of his head. I am really struggling with getting him to brush his teeth.  I used to brush his teeth in the tub and have now moved him to the sink. I have shown him everyday, for what seems like forever, how to do it.  I even sometimes grab the brush and get in a few swipes off my own.  In general, it starts with the Thomas the Train toothpaste.  I put a little on his brush and he just sucks it all off like it is candy.  Gross, I know. I am feeling frustrated about it and am almost ready to give up.  Maybe it is just easier to surrender, let all of his teeth fall out, and feed him applesauce and yogurt until his adult teeth come in.  Then we will have a fresh start. I'm taking any tricks or suggestions. Thanks, readers!

Since Big E was a month old, he has had a sound machine in his room that plays white noise.  When he was very young he would fall asleep instantly when I turned it on and his eyes would pop open the second I turned it off. It isn't as effective in getting him to sleep anymore, but I do think it keeps him asleep and if he does wake up in the middle of the night, he usually goes right back to sleep. Our sound machine sometimes shorts out after I have turned it on and left the room.  Tonight, I heard Big E calling for me after I had put him to bed and gone downstairs to clean up.  I figured it was one of his ploys to get me back in there, so I ignored him.  He eventually quieted down and went to sleep. When I came upstairs for the night, I went to check on Big E.  As I approached his door I heard such a frightening sound.   SILENCE! Oh no, the machine had turned off.  What to do?! Do I go in and turn it on and run the risk of waking him up? Do I just roll the dice and hope

No, I'm not talking about the Ford Explorer.  I'm talking about Big E.  He will do just about anything not to go to bed for the night. We read like 43 books.  I have to tuck him in just so.  I line up his six crib-mates.  (See Eight is a crowd ) After he is tucked in I fish for loving phrases like... I love you, mommy! Night-night! See you tomorrow! But usually when I ask him what he wants to say to me it goes something like this... I got fancy shoes! Eat donuts with Uncle Yoy! Elmo and Cookie Monster at the shoe store! Go to New York! Playground with Lady E! Play rocks with Lady P! Daddy go to airport! It goes on and on until I finally turn around and leave. First of all, the above phrases are actually true and are things that we have talked about or have happened in the past 48 hours. Second of all, I was not born yesterday.  I recognize that he is stalling the inevitable -  that I am going to walk out of the room and he is going to go t

When Big E takes a nap or goes down for the night he brings with him six stuffed animals: duck, other duck, other other duck, Elmo, sheep, and bear.  If one of these animals goes missing it is armageddon.  He will not lay down until all six of the animals are present. It started with bear.  And then he added sheep.  And all of the sudden he had this whole stuffed animal army keeping him company in his crib.  This means if he spends the night out (i.e. at Grandma's or Uncle Yoy's) then all of the animals must come, too.  I practically need a whole other suitcase to pack his animals. Yesterday, he was digging around in his toy bin and found a stuffed giraffe that plays a lullaby.  Giraffe and Big E were instant best friends.  Big E brought him to eat dinner at the kitchen table.  He put Giraffe on his little truck and drove him around the family room. I knew what was coming next. I went to tuck him for the night and he requested Giraffe.  I told Big E no.  Giraffe was not

I have to give credit to Mr. Yoy.  He took Big E to his favorite train museum and they were about to close so they couldn't go in.  Big E was so excited to see "The General" and Mr. Yoy had to come up with something fast or it was going to be a bloodbath.  Mr. Yoy told Big E that "The General" was sleeping.  Big E totally bought into that.  He talked about the choo choo sleeping for the next few days.  But more importantly, he left the museum peacefully. Fast forward a few days and we were outside playing with the football.  It was time to go in, which usually is a battle.  All I had to say that the football was sleeping and he was fine with that.  We went inside and he talked about the football sleeping.  But, he didn't pitch a fit. Wow, something so simple. Bedtime has also been a challenge as of late.  The last few nights I have told Big E that it was very late and Mrs. Yoy needed to go to sleep.  He repeated back to me multiple times as I was tucki

No, I'm not talking about the first heat wave of 2011 here in the ATL. I'm talking about the huge screaming fit Big E threw at the mall today.  Big E was running around and playing with his girlfriend, Lady P.  They were pretty wound up and working off some toddler steam. I decided to pull out the crayons and coloring books to calm them down a bit.  The kids were coloring but then they started to hoard crayons.  I gave the standard Mrs. Yoy sharing warning. If you can't share the {insert item here}, Mommy is going to take it away and no one can have it. Big E chose not to listen, so I informed him that the crayons were out of here.  I scooped them up and put them in the box.  Big E immediately started screaming and crying.  He was hysterical.  Lady P started crying because Big E was crying.  Everyone in the mall was staring at us.  The acoustics were perfect for screams.  I'm sure the shoppers at the other end of the mall could hear Big E's cries for his cr

I love Mother's Day.  I love it more than my birthday.  It is the one day of the year that everyone actually acknowledges the blood, sweat, and tears that goes into raising a child, especially a Baby Yoy. I had a wonderful weekend with my family and wish we could observe Mother's Day every day of the year. Here are a few helpful hints to help Mr. Yoy and my kids keep the spirit of this sacred holiday alive year-round: 1)  Offering to change all diapers 2)  Weekly spa days 3)  Never arguing/talking back 4) Telling me how wonderful I am, multiple times a day*** ***As I am typing this, Mr. Yoy called to tell me what a good Mommy I was.  Maybe he doesn't need the helpful hints.

Big E has the face of an angel.  I know that I'm his mother and I have to say this, but he really does. At the ripe old age of two, he is learning to work it.  Watching him figure this out is fascinating. Today he was out front with his girlfriend--we'll call her Lady P.  Big E tripped and fell.  He started to fake cry.  This is one of his new tricks.  Lady P went to his side and told him not to cry.  She then leaned in, wrapped her arms around him, and gave him the hug to end all hugs. I saw the light go on in Big E's head.  He did it again.  And again, Lady P was there to comfort him with her sweet words and hugs.  He was on to something.  Over the next 30 minutes the two kids repeated this scene.  Lady P's mom and I watched in amazement. Big E is already learning the art of manipulating women.  High school is going to be a bitch.

I am always looking to streamline the mothering process.  The evening hours are brutal, as I have written about many times. Now that Little E sits up in the tub, I have decided to bath the Yoys together.  One, this saves a tub full of water every day.  Two, this saves me some time.  And three, and most importantly, it gives Big E a little more playtime in the tub.  This is crucial. Tonight the boys were playing together in the tub.  Big E was splashing and screaming and Little E was mirroring him and having a great time.  We were having a nice family moment. Then I saw it.  And unidentified orange slick moving atop the water on Little E's end of the tub.  It was Little E's dinner, carrots and tomatoes.   And, scene.  Bath time was over. Big E was not too jazzed.  He started to put up a fight.  I attempted to reason with him. Big boys don't bathe in vomit! As usual, this was futile.  But, I have a slight strength advantage over Big E.  So I just pulled the plug

I went to NYC this past weekend to visit my brother and my soon-to-be SIL.  Mr. Yoy stayed behind in ATL and Grandma Yoy came up to help out. This is what Mr. Yoy told me before I left. Comforting, I know. I'm happy to report that both boys were alive and well upon my return.  They were even fed, bathed, and diapered. Good job, Mr. Yoy!