The Week of Cursing

After AJ got home yesterday I treated myself to a Blizzard at Dairy Queen.  I had earned every single calorie too.  Tonight I might need to go again.   

The day started with Lucas refusing to eat because I didn't serve him what he wanted.  He has always had to eat what is served- why the sudden objections and resistance now?  He had a choice of cereals and he didn't want cereal.  I thought the age of 4 was going great.  But we have entered another challenging spell.  And he whined about the food.  And he whined some more.  I told him to go to his room or eat.  He whined some more. 

I walked in and told AJ (who was getting ready for work) that I couldn't, just couldn't, do another day like yesterday.  He came out and physically put Lucas in his room.  5 minutes of being in his room suddenly made his breakfast more tolerable to him.  He ate it.


Nick is giving up naps.  'Nuff said.

Nick also locked me in the backyard today.  Once I got into the house with the hide a key I found him behind THREE, yes THREE, locked doors.  Our bedroom door - locked.  Our bathroom door - locked. And our closet door - locked. 

He had barricaded himself in there with the cat and a bottle of hand soap.  He wanted to wash the cat. But he didn't want me to stop him.  Thus the FOUR locked doors. 

It may sound as though I don't supervise.  I can see how you might believe that, given all that seems to be going on.  But I can assure you that I am supervising.  They seem to wait for me to turn my back, go to the bathroom, step outside to get the dog, go to the garage for a roll of paper towels, start doing dishes - you name it - and then they sneak away to get into something. 

I'm feeling defeated, exhausted and demoralized.  What am I doing wrong?  Am I raising a bunch of nut jobs?  Am I being too strict and they are acting out?  Am I not being strict enough? 

I took them to the park bright and early to run off their energy.  At this point I'm afraid to take them anywhere where but the park.  On the way a woman pulled into my lane and quite literally came inches away from causing a major collision at 45 mph.  I hit the narrow median with my tire and nearly entered oncoming traffic where I would have promptly had a head-on collision with a police officer. I locked up the brakes and laid on the horn and she missed me, but not by much.  I was directly next to her so it would have been a full-body-slam so to speak. 

Thankfully no one was hurt. She got out of her car when we reached the stop light and came back to profusely apologize which made it better.  I wish more people were polite like that.  I went to the mechanic to make sure I didn't need an alignment after hitting the median and thankfully I didn't. 

And in other news I found a great mechanic!!  Didn't charge me for anything and he seems like a genuine dude. 

The mechanic had just closed my hood and Lucas reaches into the cab (super fast!!) and pops the hood again.  I didn't even notice because I was loading Nick in the car.  The mechanic noticed and went and closed it again.  I swear these kids are like a bunch of rodents (and there's only two of them!!) racing around getting into things, scattering objects, breaking and soiling things, fighting - and I can't keep track of them or what they are doing.  Thank GOD they aren't multiplying like rodents do.  I can't even imagine how people with more than two children survive. 

This is just a phase - a bad week.  It will get better.  It always does. 

Here are some good moments from yesterday: 

The boys helped me cut up chicken for dinner with their baby knives.  They then proceeded to eat a bunch of the chicken and the frozen veggies . . . but that's ok because I had planned on them grazing. 

 Oh hey on a side note:  If a frazzled and overwhelmed mother calls you up to vent and let off some steam. . . just listen to her.  Don't even attempt to defend or sympathize with the children that she complains about. You will direct her substantial ire at you, which is a very bad move.  Give me. . .*ahem* I mean her an abnormal amount of comments such as:  "Oh those little bastards!" and "I just don't know how you do it, you are amazing." and " my favorite: "I think you should just let yourself have a beer at 2 in the afternoon, you deserve it honey." 

Don't try to put things into perspective.  Don't try to minimize her suffering. Most importantly DO NOT offer suggestions for discipline unless she specifically asks.  DO NOT under any circumstances tell her "Oh, you need to get that behavior under control." -because she isn't an idiot - she knows this and is doing every thing she can to survive. 

She just wants to talk about herself and be selfish.  

She wants you to give her permission to drink.

Little Arrogant Dictators

Didn't sleep last night.  Finally passed out around 1 am, I think.  I attempted to make muffins for breakfast.  But the god damned smoke alarm kept going off.  So I had to fan the smoke detector the whole time the muffins were baking.  Meanwhile the boys were holding their ears and yelling at me to make it stop.  Then Lucas yelled at me to change the batteries, because the firefighters at Lowes told him that you need to change the batteries and that it is really easy so we just need to change the batteries because that is why it is making noise. . . . . and on and on he went while I was fanning the alarm and praying for silence.

Ten minutes.  I stood there fanning the f-ing smoke detector for ten minutes while getting helpful smoke detector maintenance tips from a 4 year old.

When I pulled the muffins out - two of them were burnt and the rest were perfect.  WTF?

Then we rushed out the door with muffins in hand to go to a hands-on workshop at Lucas's school.  The lady told me on the phone that most 2 year olds (siblings) are able to participate but sometimes they can't stay focused.  I should back this story up.  THIS is a pretty competitive program to get into.  Everyone in the school wants to do the Explora workshops so they hold a lottery for 15 kids to participate.  There are 400 kids in the school.  Lucas was selected.  Whoo HOO!!  Siblings are welcome as long as they are able to participate and not be disruptive.

So there we are.  Eating muffins in the car.  Nick mashed his mini muffin in his hands and pushed it into his seat and said that the muffin was hurting his belly.  So I asked him if he wanted a new muffin that would make his belly feel good.  He ate the second muffin I handed him. 

Then we arrive and start to participate in the workshop.  The activities were engaging and fun and new.  Most kids were engrossed in the fun.  My kids. . . . not so much.  Lucas kept jerking objects out of other kids hands, Nick kept trying to put everything under his shirt and in his pants.  Lucas was deliberately falling off his stool and onto another child who was minding their manners. . . unlike my kids.  I put Lucas in a corner and told him to stay there until he could behave.  He proceeded to jump around and cause a ruckus from his corner.  Then Nick spots a small play area adjacent to where the workshop was held.

"I want play Mommy. I want play!!"  I told him that right now we were playing with all the stuff at our table but we could go play over there in a little while.  "NOW Mommy!! I want play NOW!"

People are looking.  Lucas is bouncing a mirror off the table.  Nick is SCREAMING AND CRYING.

The organizer comes over to offer me snacks for my children.  Maybe that will help?  I told her thank you but they had just eaten and that we were going to make an escape before we caused more disruptions.

She was sweet and told me what to do to finish up the workshop from home.  Painting, more mirror play and some shape sorting.

I get home, pull out the paint and . . . . I can't locate the green paint.  The kids are pissed.  I'm pissed that they have the BALLS to be pissed at me.  Where do they get off??  We paint without green.  Somehow we survive the experience without green.  (FYI - I was informed that mixing yellow and blue is not the same. . .so they say).

They are little dictators.  Little arrogant dictators.

Nick reaches over and paints on his brother's paper.  Lucas freaks out.  Nick gets a warning.  Nick reaches over and pinches Lucas's arm.  Nick is sent to his room.

Nick is allowed out of his room to finish his painting.  Nick paints the chair blue.  Not just a little.  A lot of blue.  Nick gets sent back to his room - screaming and crying.

I make lunch.  Nick feeds the dog the meat from his sandwich.  I was tipped off by the furious yowling cat who did not get any of the meat being handed out.  I get pissed off.  No more meat for Nick.  Consequences suck.  Nick is furious. 

I sent them outside to play.  I hear Lucas yell something to Nick about water.  I wiped the paint from my hands (cleaning up from painting) and walk to the door to see all of the basins around all of my trees over flowing with water.  Nick had lifted a heavy clay pot and manually turned on the irrigation valves.  There was water everywhere. 

I have nothing left to say.  They have been awake for just under 6 hours so far today.  I have another 8 hours left.

I feel like crying.    

This and That

The boys enjoyed a fruit smoothie. 

I also made some more cards last night at a stamp club I joined.  Amy McCollum came up with the ideas and provided all the supplies and equipment so we cut, colored, pasted, and assembled our cards.  It was a lot of fun. 

This big blue butterfly started out as a square piece of grey paperboard.  We cut, colored, embossed, embossed, embossed and then stamped it to make it look and feel like leather.  Very beautiful.

All of the little bits of paper (flowers, leaves, butterflies etc) are things we created last night. Amy teaches us how to do it and then sets us loose to create at will.  The last one with the big flower and green square is a picture holder.  The picture will be wallet sized and fit in the green square. There  is a magnet strip on the back so it can hang on the refrigerator.  I KNOW!!! Great idea Amy! 

A Hike Five Years Ago

This is my sister Stella and Me on our way down to Phantom Ranch in the Grand Canyon.  It was taken in 2005 (pre babies).  We had so much fun on this hike.  The wind was blowing so hard that you can see our hair was standing straight out.  Right after this picture was taken a mule team came along and we had to push ourselves up against the cliff so that they wouldn't bump us over the drop off (probably 500 feet down) behind us.  Stella got blisters and I got sunburned and when we crawled out of the canyon the next day and made it back to the hotel we both collapsed on the bed unable to move our muscles.  We fell asleep in the exact positions that we landed on the bed - not joking. 

Here we are just after we got to the top of the canyon.  We were trying to look relaxed and happy for the picture but please note that we were leaning on the railing for support because our legs weren't functioning anymore.  To rub salt in the wound we were getting passed on the trail by OLD PEOPLE in great shape.  It wasn't so good for our egos.  At one point we even had a boy scout troop pass us. Little smug bastards.  But we were pacing ourselves and ended up by passing most of them later in the day when they had used up their energy and we were still trudging along.

On the way up mule teams with people riding them were passing us and the people were sometimes smacking their mules with crops so that they would keep up with the other mules.  Stella would yell at them to be nice to the animals.  They would glare at her.  She didn't give a damn.  It was funny.

We did it (in JUNE!) and someday I'd like to do it again with her.  Only next time maybe we could aim for early May or late September. . . . .

Frustration at Every Turn

Oh Nick's cute alright but that doesn't make it ok for him to kick me in my diaphragm (hard) as I'm changing his shitty diaper.  And when I put him in time out for it, he yelled at me to "STOP TELLING ME!  STOP ASKING ME MOMMY!!" 

Excuse me??? 

Stop asking me is his way of saying "stop telling me what to do."  Kicking me??  IN the gut??  While I was wiping his ass???  Over the line. . . .waaaayyyyyy over the line.  He was throwing me so much attitude.

Not fifteen minutes later he was ramming his fire truck into my bare foot.  I looked down and told him to stop because it hurt me.  He did it again.  I told him to "Stop that. I don't like it."

He. Did. It. Again. Little Fucker.

I ripped the truck from his hands, and put it on a high shelf.  He put his hands on his hips and told me to "Stop telling me."  He looked me right in my eye and told me to stop ordering him around.


This morning he was eating his cereal from one of those bowls with the built in straws.  He apparently decided he was done and began forcefully blowing his milk - through the straw - and across the table at his brother. 

I walked over, took his bowl, dumped it in the sink and the made him clean up the table while he cried (with tears and everything) about how hungry he was and how he wanted his cereal. 

I'm a real bitch I guess, because I told him that hungry children don't play with their food.

Last night he ORDERED me to get off my own couch because I was sitting in his spot. (Please note that his so-called spot changes every minute from one spot to the next)  "GET UP MOMMY.  GET UP.  MY SPOT.  GET UP!"  I sat there and told him that it was my couch and my house.  I scooted over so he could sit next to me which he eventually did, but only after screaming at me for five minutes. 

I've really had it with this little defiant streak he's going through.  I'm all about promoting his desires for independence but he better learn to treat me and my home with respect. I'd rather he learn now than try to teach a nine year old (or worse a teenager) boundaries.

Yesterday the boys were racing around the living room when Lucas shoved Nick into a table mid-run and caused Nick to get a huge red linear welt across his chest.  Nick recovered from the chest injury and ran and jumped onto the dog bed, slamming his little head into the wall so hard I'm surprised there wasn't a dent.  I kissed that boo boo a BUNCH.  He seemed to recover enough for me to convince him it was time to get in the shower.  I took his little hand and led him into the bathroom and as he walked through the door he walked right into the door jam.  And cried all over again. 

He is just having such a hard time.

And Lucas is being so helpful and sweet lately.  I've heard myths and legends about 4 year olds being a welcome relief from the 2's and 3's (3's are worse than 2's in my experience so far).  And so far the age of 4 is AWESOME.  He is able and willing to be so helpful and sweet.  He helps Nick with his shoes and toys.  Lucas is so thoughtful and caring lately too.  He gives Nick hugs and helps him find his water if he looses it. 

But . . . I still have to get Nick through the 2's and 3's and to be totally honest I'm a little scared. A little voice in my head tells me I haven't seen anything yet.

One of the good things:  The boys scrubbed down my shower a couple nights ago with baking soda and brushes.  They did a great job and I have a clean shower too!  And they seemed happy to help which was nice.