ok. so i wasn't completely honest yesterday. i was feeling lazy and i thought my post was pretty boring and long and i didn't want to bore y'all further. the picture taking wasn't all rainbows and kittens. c was in a really foul mood. she was overtired and she threw it down in the photo place. the sweet lady was just like "she certainly has a mind of her own doesn't she?" which is code for "your kid might be crazy... you probably want to see someone about an exorcism." it took us about 1.5 hours to take 14 shots- 12 of them being outright horrible. i knew that the last 2 were the only 2 i liked when it came time to purchase and the lady didn't really show me any others. however, she did put them on the online gallery.
being the amazing wife that i am, i sent daddy j the link so that he could look at the pictures of the kids all prettied up in their clothes. insert- awwwwwww. i didn't pay any attention to what pictures were on there.
and then today i get this email from daddy j:
"Some of those pictures were adorable . . . and some were a little horrifying" i just wrote back... something like "haha. c was in a mood and threw a few tantrums" and thought nothing of it. later i get these texts:
are you totally wondering what the heck he is talking about yet? because i was...
sooooo... this happened yesterday:
c, i do not blame you not one little bit. i'd be upset too. i've started saving for your therapy, sweetheart.
i am fairly certain that is not what Jesus meant by "love thy neighbor as thyself"
for one. I am so sick and tired of my phone making me look like an ahole. or a hillbilly. or just a straight up idiot who can't spell. or worst. a perv. this phone and I haven't been getting along for the last-- ohhhh I don't know--- 2ish years. (coincidentally, that's how long I've had this phone). it might have something to do with the number of times I've dropped it in the sink. my bad. but I really don't think I should be having a DYAC worthy mishap with my phone every single day. and I've completely stopped texting/emailing anyone but my closest friends from my phone because that ish gets embarrassing. there are only so many times you can accidentally type penis before people think you are just gross. awwwwkward.
for twosies. it's JEEZ people. JEEZ. not geez. never mind that Jeez is short for Jesus. if you are going to say it please at least say it correctly. WTH is geez anyway? my best guess is geez is short for geezer. I don't know why you would say geez? maybe I'm pet peeving over someone who does actually go around saying "geez" because you are really emphatic about old people. but, i doubt it. my estimation is that what you mean is Jeez but what you type is Geez. maybe it's your making you look like an ahole too. I'm glad I'm not the only one. solidarity sister! (or brother!)
for three. FUStrated. for the love of all that is wonderful and sparkly in the world it's FUStrated. there is an in the word. just like there is an in that I find people saying FUStrated eally annoying. please use frustrated correctly. every time you say fustrated a unicorn loses it's horn. do you really want that on your conscience?
for four: mouth noises (especially slurping, but not limited to smacking, gulping, and spitty noises). these makes my skin crawl literally right off my body. and anyone who has been around toddlers knows they're incapable of not making mouth noises (double negative- I'm so sorry English teachers of the world. that's probably your pet peeve and I just did it). So, anyway, basically every single meal is like me sitting down and trying to enjoy my food while someone scrapes nails down a chalkboard 20 inches from my face. it's like dining in Hell's Kitchen.
what are your pet peeves? please share them so I know I'm not just the crazy train conductor over here.
i took j for a haircut today. he was an ANGEL. normally i have to have a stiff drink afterwards even if the haircut takes place at 9am. it's 5 o'clock in Qatar and that's good enough for me. i was already lining up drinking buddies for later but turns out i didn't need them. i hope we have turned a corner. the stylists at the last place we went said that little boys just hit a stage and they HATE haircuts. she promised me that they would eventually be cool with it again. i don't know if that's what today was or whether it was a little favor from God that i am going to owe him for later. either way, i don't look a gift horse in the mouth.
after haircuts we went to get Easter pictures. I'd love to post one for you here, but I am going to have to ghettoclick one later after I get the hard copies. they watermarked all over them and they don't let you buy the jpegs?!? whatever. the lady was SO GREAT with them. SO GREAT! normally i take all the kids pictures but the red door background with white rocking chair pictures are pretty played out.
hey there kids in the white rocking chair in front of the red door.
look! it's c crossing the delaware on that same damn white chair in front of that same damn red door.
i thought the lady was fabulous and i would have tipped her but i didn't really know tipping protocol. maybe i'll tip her when i go back to pick them up?!? who am i kidding? i'll totally be too busy getting my ghettoclick on so i can get them up on facebook.
the most eventful thing that probably happened all day though was the triple-- maybe quadruple take i got while i was driving with the windows down and playing some sweet air drums to yo gabba gabba while the kids slept. i really don't see what's so wrong with that.
i hope everyone has a great Easter.
p.s. i totally added "ghettoclick" to Urban Dictionary but the editors have to review my entry, so you'll just have to wait for that gem.
p.p.s. it's approved. ghettoclick you are welcome for that major contribution to America. next, i'll tackle the deficit.
this morning was spent cleaning the catastrophe level 7 playroom. see... the kids have lots of toys and lots of toys that have lots of parts. when the small people have lots of time, they pull out lots of toys and throw lots of the pieces of the lots of toys onto the floor. and mommy gets to spend lots of time losing her sanity on getting two people with an attention span shorter than a gnat to pick up all the little pieces. OR mommy gets the gnats to pick up the big stuff and mommy spends lots of time picking up lots of pieces to lots of toys and putting them back into their bins.
today I devised a plan that surely has me as the front runner for some sort of a trophy. I put all the little pieces into ziploc bags and put the ziploc bags into a Tupperware bin and put the Tupperware bin on top of the entertainment center. now, when they wanna play zoo or palace or dinosaurs or Legos, they have to come get me. I will empty out the contents of the bag when and only when the contents of the last bag are cleaned up. what!what! mommy for the win!
and guess what? it even works. I even think they like it better because they can actually enjoy using all the pieces of each toy.
BUT before I could even pat myself on the back, c and j wanted me to get them a juice. I stupidly told them that they could have juice with their lunch. only I didn't check to make sure we had juice first that's a rookie mistake and I should have known better. new mommies: please learn from my mistakes. save yourselves!
usually my drama child is king j himself, but today c was the one who was p-ih-ih-issed. she told me "you are not my mommy!" in a fit of 1 year old rage. (seriously. she has 12 years to practice this before she's a teenager. I'm afraid, y'all.) meanwhile, I'm slaving over her culinary masterpiece of microwave corndog and canned peaches. how dare she? and furthermore, where do they even learn this stuff?
that return trip back down to earth was quick. see? not even hour of every day can be a victory. hey, lady in the store whose kid just los' they mind. you are not alone. hey, mom who made chicken nuggets for lunch. you are not alone in your nutritional prowess. YOU.ARE.NOT.ALONE.
for now, c calmed down and is napping. j is laying quietly in the bed. I'm going to go come up with some kind-of an outdoor activity for the kids when they wake up.
CONFESSION: sometimes i let my kids watch tv with the closed captioning on and pretend that it's just like me reading them a book. only it's not me, it's the characters reading the book in their own voice which makes it doubly bad-ass. ------
I was talking with 2 of my very awesome friends today via group iMessage. incidentally, group iMessage is my version of having coffee with my frans everyday. and i love it. i loves it so hard. additionally, i don't have pay $5 for a latte, wear a bra, or brush my teeth beforehand. so, high ten for that.
my friends (all of them) are the people in my life who say "ohhh girl, me too!" when i tell them that i locked myself in the bathroom for the 6th time today to get 5 minutes of peace-- aaaaaand that subsequently everyone in the house probably thinks I have IBS. they're also the people that e-high five me when I take the kids to blow bubbles in the backyard instead of turning on Barney and burying my head in a tube of Pringles to counteract the stress of my day (which a tube of Pringles is totally a single serving, right?) we even have a code for the really bad moves we make: MOTY because if you can't laugh about it-- you'd probably cry a lot. you feel me?
anyway, today friend k, friend j, and I were having a particularly hard day in the parenting rodeo. friend j made an off-handed comment that she can't stand blogs were people look so happy and perfect all the time. it's like a mommy kick to the junk. she wants to see the blog where the mom admits to her faults and doesn't make her life seem like it's all sunshine and roses- because frankly it makes the rest of us feel like real turds even though we know deep-down that their life isn't what they'd make it seem. (the internet is funny that way, huh?)
so, i hope that's what you find here when you tune in. sometimes I'm a kick-ass mom and you can be sure I'll be documenting that here. I'll need something to look back on when I'm considering going Rob Kardashian on a box of roasted garlic triscuits. but most of the time, let's face it, i am not a kick-ass mom. BUT i'm a mom that just really loves her kids and is doing the best that i can. that counts for something, right?
and i mean... this did happen while i was on the clock:
i make mistakes. don't we all? can we promise to just be real about it? we are all in this together after all.
it takes a village. and the interwebs just made that village a whole lot bigger.
**the rob kardashian links to my favorite youtube clip from a tv show E-VER. please watch**
if you wanna follow somebody I admire, you can check her here: http://www.lesleywgraham.com/ she's real and she's honest. and she's awesome.
a. J getting stabbed in the eye b. C getting stabbed in the eye c. Mommy getting stabbed in the eye d. All of the above
This, right here, is why I wanted a daughter. Ok, not the Lee Press-On Nails part (although I am a child of the 80s and early 90s), but the dress-up part. I just thought my 36" tall Barbie was pretty cool. My 14 7 year old self had NO IDEA.
C sat super still for me to put 1-8 on. She got really impatient with the last 2 and picked the other 8 off before I could get the last 2 on. better luck next time, I guess.
it's no surprise to everyone here that I've had 2 nuggets in my bed this year, right?
I've told you that they snuggle and that's adorable. I may have even told you that they snore and that's way less adorable. but what I haven't told you is that every.single.night j sticks his feet down the back of my pants to keep his feet warm.
this is a pg-ish rated blog, so I cropped this pic just so you could see my waistband and my back. (yes, I have stretch marks on my back. have you seen a picture of me pregnant? I get like triplet belly big. I have stretch marks everywhere... including behind my knees. what IS that????)
and I've tried socks for him. he just takes them off so he can stick them down my pants.
I've already told daddy j that when he gets home I'm going to convert j's bed into a big boy bed and they can all sleep in it. j can use daddy j's backside as his own personal heater. I am calling maintenance to have my heater deadlined and I'm going to sleep in the master bed all by my big girl self. I'm so sleep deprived from all these 365 nights of being a personal heater/milk dispenser that I may just bring a big ole box of garlic roasted triscuits into bed for sustenance and spend a week catching up on sleep and watching my DVR.
we *may* or may not have had a diaper funeral today.
somebody cue amazing grace. our sweet little friend mr. huggies got buried in the backyard as a way of sending a message to the kids that there would be no more diapering.
putting the diaper in the diaper casket
ashes to ashes. dust to dust (in roughly 250 years).
ma'am was the master of ceremonies. they pledged to wear big boy underwear (and big girl?). but after realizing this was going to mean that I was sleeping in the bed with 2 people who potentially could pee their pants at any time, we reigned that one back in to pull-ups which are pretty much an upgrade because they don't wear them ever.
so far so good. c dropped some lead in her pull-up but j did not. j didn't drop lead anywhere so I think that means i'll be whipping out the old gas mask sometime tomorrow.
we also created one bomb-diggity treasure chest at the advice of my friends to help things along.
there is candy at the bottom too bc what else will mommy steal from for her after dinner treat?
they get 1 candy for liquids. 2 candies if they tell me they have to liquid and then succeed. solids get 1 prize. so far today we've given out exactly 0 candies and 0 prizes. as you can see, things are really going great. .:rolls eyes:.
all those in favor of shelving it and making daddy do it when he gets home, say aye.
I will not, won't not, shall not, am not going to show you pictures of anything here or tell you anything that might put me in jeopardy of seeing my future grandkids regularly. however, I need to know I'm not alone in this.
my children will not potty train. they won't. I think it's because they don't like me. or maybe it's a conspiracy that wont stop until im in a padded room wearing all white and high-fiving myself behind my back.
I've read a lot of "manuals" that say you have to find the right currency for your kids. (call me crazy for thinking that not marinating in filth was incentive enough) so, I used gumballs originally. they were working for a little while with j. I still think he'd be down with using the potty for liquids regularly but solids ain't happening. not ever. no way.
( sidebar: who put that potty chair here? not my potty chair, not my problem. that's what I always say. -if you get the reference, I really hope we are friends bc I already know that I love you. )
but recently, I made a sweeping decision that j was not allowed to watch Barney anymore bc I thought brain meltingly annoying purple t-Rex's were precisely the currency to...ahem... get things moving for him. that didnt work either.
I keep thinking that if he would just make one single solitary Thomas Jefferson in the outhouse just once he'd be hooked. the problem is, he'd rather hide behind a couch than make the effort. (hey! some people like to read the paper, some people go behind couches) we watch him to see when he is inching behind the couch and try to hurry him to the restroom. us grabbing him to take him scares him and i think thats having the opposite effect of the typical "you scared the ---- " situation. well. that's not helpful.
yesterday I got desperate and decided that since it was about 80 degrees that I'd take the kids outside to run around diaper-less from the waist down. I figured if I actually caught j in the act I could move him to the potty. I don't think I have to tell you that didn't work either. in addition, there were several mosquito bites where the sun did, indeed, shine yesterday that I'm feeling pretty guilty about.
please tell me I'm not the only one that's ever resorted to this? do I need to just check myself into a ward for "exhaustion" right now?
so... I need help. does anybody have any ideas for me? anything that will get my kids to sit and stay and relax and succeed?
my next guess is to get j a Barney DVD, put it where he can see it, but tell him that he can't have it until after he makes it happen, cap'n.
heeeellllpppp? he won't go to high school in diapers, right? right?!? - Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
I thought maybe 3 was too early to ask my son what he wanted to be when he grows up, but what do you know? he has an answer! uh duh. nocturnal rockstar. do you think he has a little harbored resentment over having a bedtime?
I saw a list a while back on Pinterest that was questions to ask your kids at dinner time. We mostly talk about Mickey Mouse and going on imaginary safaris at dinner, but I liked the premise. The list I found seemed a little old for him, so I revised it a little and his answers were really fun. This is the list of questions that I asked (with answers!)
1. what do you want to be when you grow up? - nocturnal rockstar-
2. why? -cause I don't have to go to bed! and I can be a rockstar like Mickey-
3. do you think you'll get married when you grow up? -yes-
4. what will he/she look like? -brown hair-
5. what color eyes? -blue-
6. what will she wear? -pink dress, a pink bow like c, and yellow shoes- (fashion forward, eh?)
7. what will she do for work? -a mom- (I guess he doesn't think I'm a slob kabob for staying home. so, I think I'm doing something right)
8. so you think you'll have a kids? -yes-
9. do you think you'll have boys or girls? -both. a boy and a girl like my c-
and then he kinda lost interest. before y'all destroy me and say that I was being ridiculous for talking to j about getting married at 3, I was following his lead on this. he always asks me if we can get married. I just tell him I'm already taken by daddy. no need to get into it further... :) he is very curious about family structure so i figured he'd talk about it.
also, I wanted to try to get him describing people. it's the next big developmental milestone he needs to conquer. he enjoyed it too... I think.
I made the little mock Polaroid to help me remember his "first what I wanna be when I grow up." I used PicMonkey to design it. it was quick, fun, and great for my digital scrapbook.
what do your kids wanna be when they grow up? do you have daily questions you like to ask? I was trying to think of some questions to ask everyday but beyond "how was your day?" I'm kinda lost.
so... way back in the day when c was 1, I took her to the Dr for her 1 year check-up and he asked me what I thought about the new attachment parenting article that had just come out. I was all "oh... I don't really think much about it. it all seemed pretty in-line to me" and he was all "you know you're an attachment parent, right?" and I was all "naaaawwww. am I?" and he was all "yep. yep. 100% you are" since me and old dr. g arent exactly BFFs, he based this on the fact that I admittedly co-sleep, breastfeed, and wear my kids. and of course, here we are a year later and I'm solidly still doing all those things. if that makes me an attachment parent, then somebody get me an "attachment parent" hemp tshirt. that isn't really where I was going with that... sorry. anyway, bc we have been nomads this year and we don't always have access to 2 beds, both of the kids have been sleeping with me. j, I think, could take it or leave it. c, on the other hand, has to have someone in bed next to her. has to. all the time. every night we have our drill. dinner, bath, teeth, bed. I come in and I nurse c until she's asleep. Once shes out, i whisper to j "do not get out of bed & do not wake your sister," i combat roll out of the bed, tiptoe out the door, and go watch law & order on Netflix with my parents until the first one of us falls asleep. and every night somewhere between 830-930, little c wakes up, realizes shes alone, and comes toddling out screaming like she is actively having bamboo shoots shoved under her teeny tiny fingernails. every night I try to calm her down. I succeed 50% of the time. the other 50% I want to cry because I just wanted an hour to myself. (hey, I'm just being honest here). tonight on her stumble out, she grabbed some mardi gras beads. I thought that was pretty considerate of her. at least she wanted to make my dreaded pilgrimage back to the bedroom more festive?!? I mean really. the child has to have someone in the bed with her. I don't have a crystal ball, but I think our future looks like having c in the bed with us until she goes off to college (just another way she is ensuring that she stay youngest child forevermore) I wonder if the personality compatibility sheets they pass out for dorms at college has a "likes to cuddle" option?
would you look at these two? two peas in a little pod. I love the protective arm thrown over his sister. aside from his perpetual grilled cheese breath, I think her brother makes an excellent human body pillow. maybe I can sneak away and sleep in the toddler bed? talk about 10lbs of potatoes in 5lb sack.
I've been inspired to do a little chalk drawing thanks to c's Mary Poppins birthday theme. Unfortunately, the only thing I can really do with chalk is write and draw smiley faces. but, even then, I'm not really sure if they should have a nose or not and if i put one then they just end up looking pinnichio after he denied eating the last of the thin mints. sidewalk chalk art is a pivotal part of this party and I plan to do some fancy artwork for the walkway. however, I don't think we are in danger of any kids slipping away to a hoedown with pants sagging penguins from my masterpieces. In fact, I'm considering letting c scribble some on the sidewalk, claiming it, and saying I took my inspiration from pollock. _____ other notable things that happened today:
yippee ki yay mother cluckers
what? toilet time was a little drafty ______ and at this point I'm pretty sure you've stopped reading so I'll go ahead and tell the most terrible thing that happened today. I found an queen ant in my bed and I'm pretty sure she was a stowaway in my hair.
...I'll let that sink in for a minute...
then again, I did have on a pair of super catchy pants and I had been outside.
all I know is that when I got up from trying to get the kids down, there was a queen ant in my bed where my head had been. oh hells no, sister. there will be no colonizing. I already share my bed with 2 kids and 2 lovies. I don't have room for you and your closest 2000 friends. the queen ant didnt quite get released back into the wild, but lets just say she is "free." I'm waiting for retaliation. I hope they don't know who did it.
I really never thought that I'd be asked by my son, at the ripe old age of 3, to explain death. however, on this very day, he asked me to explain it to him.
I debated on whether i should share my conversation with him here or not. I decided that I would because it's a moment in his life that not only do I want to remember the day, but I want to remember the words that go along with it. additionally, I'm sure I'm not the only person that has to have this conversation with their kids. I wasn't prepared for it, but I think I mustered through ok. Maybe by putting it here, it's a conversation that you can think about having one day and you'll be better prepared than me. I know that I don't share the same views as everyone on this subject. I am not putting this here to condemn those to who believe differently than me. I'm just sharing with you the conversation that I had with my darling inquisitive blue eyed boy today. If it has you thinking then that's a happy side effect.
I should also note that he knows what Heaven is, but I think it was a little out of context for him. he knows that God lives there, but I don't think he realized that all Gods peeps are up there having a big non-stop house party.
This is how it went:
j: "am I going to die?"
me: "yes. you will die one day when hopefully you are really really old"
j: "will you die?"
me: "yes. mommy will hopefully die before you die."
j: "but I'll be sad"
me: "you will be sad, but we will all be together again one day"
j: "where will we go?"
me: "we will go to Heaven. mommy and daddy will go to Heaven first probably when you have kids of your own one day. and then when your kids have kids ... maybe even grandkids, you'll come to Heaven too"
j: "where's Heaven?"
me: "Heaven is with God. waaaayyy up high above the clouds"
j: "but it'll be so sad to be there by yourself"
and so I backed up and said "ok, lets talk about it".
Me: "when mommy and daddy wanted a baby, God was up in Heaven and he said 'I know who I'll send to Mommy and Daddy. I'll send j. he is smart, and funny, and sweet, and cuddly. He's perfect for them!' and you were up in Heaven with Him and he sent you here for mommy and daddy. but, we are just borrowing you. you belong to God. God is letting us borrow you. you know like when you let C borrow a toy, but you want it back when she is done? God is letting mommy and daddy borrow you like that. mommy and daddy take care of you on Earth and then we will all be in Heaven together forever when we die"
j: "is Heaven in Gods heart?"
me: "I'm sure that he carries it with him in his heart, but Heaven is a place"
j: "ok. I'll die and I'll go to Heaven and be with momma, daddy, and C again"
j: "I came from heaven"
and that was the end of it
I do think he actually understood because he explained it to my mom after his nap.