October - the month of chaos

My baby is going to be TWO years old in just three short days. Someone please tell me how that happened. Or how when he is only TWO years old, I feel like he thinks he's six or seven. Getting way to smart and independent for his own good.

Speaking of the two year old, never in my life did I think that I would have to have a calendar to keep track of his activities at such a young age. But my husband came home from preschool with a copy of the October newsletter, and he seriously has something going on every single week. Friday he gets to be "snack leader" - I signed him up since it's his birthday. I bought the birthday Teddy Grahams and am going to portion them out in clear plastic party bags. I wanted ones that had some sort of decoration, which you would THINK would be easy to find, but no .... it isn't. So instead I bought some Mickey Mouse Clubhouse stickers to put on the bags and matching ribbon to tie them shut. Yes, I'm going to be THAT mom. Although I think I decided to skip the juice boxes. He gets to be first in line anytime they have something that requires them to take turns, he gets to help hand out the snacks (thus the bags ... easier to pass out than just sending him with a box of Teddy Grahams), and I think that they give him balloons to take home. Yeah for being two!!

Next week is picture day, then the week after that is I love Fall theme day, followed by farm theme day the week after that, his school Halloween party, and somewhere in there we have tickets to Boo at the Zoo and we're having family photos done. And my husband wonders why I have a whiteboard calendar hanging on our kitchen wall. And guess what?? Next year we can even enroll him in basketball camp at the YMCA! It's no wonder kids these days are on activity overload.

Sidetrack .... my 10-month-old is walking already. And climbing. Yesterday I hear my husband shreaking, telling me to come look. I look out the kitchen door and there are both of my boys standing on top of the coffee table in the corner that is their play area. I ask my husband how the 10-month-old managed to get up on the coffee table. His response ... I don't know. Great. Today he started climbing up the changing table. Heaven help us.

Motivation comes from random places

Yesterday was our 3-year anniversary. We aren't big on celebrating and stuff like that, so instead of doing something like a normal couple would do, we took the boys to visit a sunflower farm planted by Prayers from Maria. It's a non-profit that was formed by Maria's parents after she died to help raise awareness and funds for glioma research. We were there for quite a while and took well over 200 pictures. Those who follow me on Facebook should be relieved that I only posted about 50 of them. I have to admit that when I was trying to explain the purpose to William, I shed a few tears. I can't even imagine going through anything like that with my little boys (see following happy smiley faces!).

Another thing I realized as I was posting these pictures is that I SERIOUSLY need to work on losing some weight. Bending over, kneeling on the ground and getting myself back up after taking pictures was NOT glamorous, and I don't want to be like that for my boys. I am 50 pounds over what I deemed as acceptable 15 years ago, and even then, THAT weight was a good 25 pounds or more than where I should be. I refrained from posting some of those photos just because of the way I looked. I'm 41 years old and have had two babies, but that's still no excuse. I also have PCOS, but that can only be used as an excuse for so long. So tonight I re-upped my Weight Watchers membership. If I lose 10 pounds in the next 2 months, they will refund my first 2 months of membership fees. Plus if you use eBates, they give you back $5 for signing up.So if I can manage to lose 10 pounds in the next 2 months, it's basically costing me $5. What do I have to lose ... other than 50 pounds? Plus, my husband works for Target, who just announced that they are giving all of their employees free FitBits. He feels like he doesn't want to deal with that, I at least talked him into getting it anyway because it's FREE. My knock-off FitBit doesn't sync with WW, so if all else fails, I can swap mine out for his and see if I can make it work. When I told my husband what I did, he looked at me and said that I must really be motivated this time around. He has never really said much about my weight other than an occasional comment (which is directed more at me feeling bad about myself and not really reflective of how HE feels about it), and that if I'm happy, he's happy but he doesn't want to be married to a toothpick. Alrighty then! So here we start a new journey. Wish me luck!

My baby started preschool today

Well, technically it's pre-preschool. It's a class for kids 24-36 months that PREPS them for preschool. And Mommy managed to not cry ... almost. Between packing his backpack, getting him dressed, taking pictures, loading everyone into the car, and the chaos of everyone else dropping their kids off, I didn't cry. But at the end of the day, after his teachers told me how good he was and how he has such a mellow personality and how much they enjoyed having him and can't wait to see him again on Friday, I had a moment on the way home. A proud Momma moment thinking about how my son managed to get through his first day of preschool without having a tantrum or crying for 80 out of the 90 minutes that class lasts or having a total meltdown until he couldn't even breathe (yes, I witnessed all of these today). Granted, it's only Day 1, but I'm one proud momma.

Today's post WAS supposed to be about preschool orientation .... until I had to run the carpet cleaner at 8:30 this morning ......

B starts preschool tomorrow, and today was preschool orientation day. I naively thought that I would write a fairly benign blog post about sending my baby off for his first day of school and the emotional upheaval that comes along with it (for Mommy, not necessarily B). That was until I was jolted from a nice peaceful slumber this morning by my husband stating that he needed my "help."


In a foggy grog, I asked him why. I vaguely recall hearing something about the boys being covered in poop and the carpet needing cleaned. Wait ... wha??? If that doesn't send you bolting out of bed, not much else will.


William will frequently just haul the boys into the shower with him when he is by himself with them or we just want to speed up the process. Since we had preschool orientation this morning and I was still in bed getting a few extra minutes of zzzzzs, this morning was one of those times. They have their little routine - they get undressed out in the living room where their changing table and diaper pail reside, and then two little naked butts excitedly wiggle their way down the hall to the bathroom in anticipation of that glorious bathtub full of splishy-splashy warm water. This morning was no different except that Daddy headed to the bathroom ahead of them to do some bathtub maintenance, figuring he'd be done by the time the naked butts arrived. Except the naked butts took longer than usual ... and when B showed up in the bathroom, he brought with him a hand full of poop (literally), which he had also smeared over most of his body. The scene of the crime (the living room) revealed P (the culprit), also covered in poop, along with it being smeared all over the carpet and their plastic toy bin. Yep, that really just happened.


So as Daddy tossed two poop-covered little boys into the bathtub, I dragged the Bissell HotShot out of the closet and proceeded to try to find all of the yellow baby poop smears on our caramel brown colored carpet - just what I wanted to do before I've even had my first cup of coffee or put in my contacts. At one point, Daddy poked his head out of the bathroom and asked if we had anything we could "disinfect" the carpet with, and then a while later proclaimed that now he knows why Maasai men stay away from childcare duties because that may have just been the grossest thing he's ever had to do. Sadly I have a feeling that won't be the last time I hear him say that before these two boys are 18 years old and move out of the house. We do have a long way to go, and boys will be boys ...


Anyway, I now have a section of nicely cleaned carpet, and I managed to suck down that cup of coffee before we had to bolt out the door to preschool orientation. And I cried on the way home when I started talking about going to Target tonight to buy him a backpack so we can send diapers and a change of clothes along just in case. The joys of being a mom.

I have been outsmarted by a toddler

B will be 2 next month. While we haven't officially started full-on potty training, we do have a potty chair - one of those nice fancy ones that has the removable seat that you can fit on a regular toilet, and when the lid is down, it also functions as a foot stool. (Sidebar: who came up with the word potty anyway? It's a silly word that makes me cringe. We once had a temp at work who was probably around my age that would always announce to everyone around her that she needed to go to the potty. Really??? First, why announce it? And second, unless you are a toddler or talking to a toddler, there is no reason to use the word potty. But I digress ...). Anyway, the potty chair gets used more as a foot stool so far, and B has an obsession with washing his hands. Well, I think it's more about playing in the water, but he knows that we encourage the hand washing, so he uses that as his rouse to actually play in the water. So anytime you head to the bathroom, he follows right behind like any normal toddler does, grabs his potty chair, drops it down in front of the sink and stands on it babbling until you turn on the water. When you're in a hurry, this gets annoying. But if you don't comply, a toddler temper tantrum ensues. So you choose the lesser of two evils most days.

Fortunately for us, we have two bathrooms - a full bathroom in the hallway and a half bath in our bedroom. Me, being the super smart mommy that I am, figured out that if I'm in a hurry, the easiest thing to do is venture into the half bath. There's no potty chair in there so things go fairly quickly. But apparently my kid is smart. 

This morning, I'm in one of those hurries and not in the mood to deal with a screaming toddler who is having a temper tantrum in the hall because I won't let him "wash his hands." So I head to the half bath, and as usual, he follows me right in. He babbles something, points at the sink, turns around and heads out. Woot woot! I've won .... 

... until about 25 seconds later when he heads back into the half bath, carrying that blasted potty chair from the other bathroom, plops it down in front of the sink, climbs up on it and starts his babbling. I can't help but laugh. And I can't help but comply with his incoherent demands - after all, he went through all that effort to figure out that's what he needed to do and to a certain extent, I feel like he should be rewarded for being so creative (well, for being only two, I think he was rather creative to figure that out). So I took the extra few minutes, turned on the water, let him wash and dry his hands, and he was satisfied and moved on. I guess from now on, if I use the second bathroom, I'll just have to learn to move a little bit faster. Because I'm sure that this will not be the last time that Mommy will be outsmarted by the toddler.

So last week I decided to resurrect my blog after two years of dormancy. I wrote a nice boring post that practically put me to sleep, scheduled it to post, and it never did. Which was probably a good thing. It really was THAT. BORING.

I figured now that I'm a mom of two little boys (yep, THAT much has changed since I last posted on this blog), I was sure that they would provide me with some good fodder and that this was a good place to keep track of all of that fun stuff they are doing as they are growing. When I tell my mom stories about things they are doing, she often laments that she doesn't remember my brother and me doing anything like that when we were little because she was just focused on so many things. I am starting to get that feeling myself and figured this would be as good of a place as any to try to capture those memories.

B, my oldest, will be two years old next month. And P, my baby, is a few weeks away from being 10 months old. Yes, I'm one of those crazies that has two under the age of two and I love every minute of the chaos ... most days. It's exhausting, but you take each day minute by minute and deal with things one at a time. And to make life even more interesting, we decided to throw a cat into the mix. With him in the house, it's just like having another toddler some days. What exactly were we thinking???

Anyway, now on to one of many Mommy learning experiences I have had and will continue to have for many years to come. And I'm sure that many of you out there can relate. It's Monday morning. I'm peacefully sipping down a cup of coffee instead of inhaling it after putting it in the microwave for yet the third time for a change because the boys have slowly learned to entertain themselves. Lots of people told me that at some point, they would basically just babysit each other, and those days have fortunately started. I don't get that luxury every morning, but I savor it when I do. Boy was I wrong about this time.

The boys were playing off to the side of the room, just out of eyesight, and had been quiet for quite a while .... which as most parents will tell you is probably a bad thing. So I decide to take a look, hoping to just see them with some toys, playing quietly like little angels. Um, not! B pops up to look at me, holding a tube of bright pink, glittery lipstick in his little fist and I think the blood may have drained from my brain at that point. I quickly scan for his little brother, already knowing what I'm going to find, and see this ....

Yep - that's my baby, face covered in pink, glittery lipstick. I have no idea where he even found it. B also had it smeared on his face, but not nearly as much as P. I grabbed the pack of Johnson's Hand and Face Wipes (one of the staples I always keep within arm's reach) and quickly wiped them both down before Daddy got home from work. I have no idea which one of the two was the original culprit and which was the victim or accomplice. It doesn't really matter. But I got a good laugh out of it before I cleaned them up and put the lipstick up where little hands can't get to it now. And lesson learned ... if they are too quiet, chances are they are up to no good.