Watching AJ Bake

I'm watching AJ bake and it is driving me NUTS.

He uses every. single. measuring. device. and won't reuse.

He uses every. single. bowl. available.

He doesn't put ingredients away when he's done.

He forgets to heat the oven until it is nearly too late. . . .

And yet he almost always turns out a good product. . . and a very messy kitchen.

I do kitchen cleanup because watching him do dishes drives me nuts too.

I think I may have some control issues. . .

Ohhhhh.  He just dumped the batter into the wrong sized pan lined with parchment paper.  More dishes. Wasted parchment paper.  Ughhhh.  I really need to not be home while he is baking.  I really need to come home to the yummy result and not try to control the process.

Twine

My friend Amy McCollum taught me how to make this (above) refrigerator magnet photo holder quite a while ago.  A wallet sized photo of your kids/family/pet will go in the green square.  I decided to make my own and give some to family members.  It is not too easy for Kristin to get creative.  It took me 4.5 hours of non-stop inspired creativity to produce 4 of these bad boys.  FOUR.  HOURS.

I'm all about the twine.  The more twine and roughed up edges the better for me.  Anyone with me on this??  Anyone a twine lover??  Well here ya go. . . some more twine:

You.
Are.
Welcome.
Twine lovers.

Curses!!!

Dark clouds.  White shit on the ground still.  AHHHHHH. 

I'm goin' batshit crazy here. 

SUN.  I need sun. 

Phase One: Complete

I purchased child sized snow shovels today. 

I dressed the children in their snow clothes.

I showed them how the shovels work.

They shoveled snow off the driveway, sidewalks, back patio, and walkways up to our doors.

Next up: Phase Two - Learning how to use the dog pooper scooper.

Cold

It is supposed to be NEGATIVE 11 degrees tonight.  With the windchill it should feel like -22 degrees.  Although I'm suspicious of windchill numbers. . .

It is 10pm and it is -9.7 degrees out.  Will it go lower than -11?  Possibly.

I checked Fairbanks' forecast for tonight.  YES, Fairbanks AK.  Their low tonight is supposed to be between 0 and 10 degrees.  No negative numbers.  Not that they haven't already had their fair share of negatives this year. . . but still.

WE ARE COLDER THAN ALASKA. 

Just let that sink in. 

My poor plants. . . . . they are my little outdoor babies and I hope they survive this.

This just goes to show that AJ needs to get a job in Hawaii pronto. 

Magic Cat Ass Cleaner

Today we baked brownies. Although, I did not attempt the recipe I mentioned in my last post. It was too complicated for me to try with two little boys helping. So we made my go-to brownie recipe which I'm still struggling with at this elevation. It turned out well - but once again it fell and was under done in the middle . . . ok, so maybe it didn't turn out well - it failed. Damn this elevation. Next time I WILL do the altitude adjustments - I will!!

While we were prepping the brownie batter, Maya our kitty cat, jumped up on the island counter and sat with her back to us. I glanced at her and noticed she looked dejected, and a little miffed about something. It looked like she wanted attention, but wasn't getting any. Her head hung low and she glanced at me over her shoulder.

I was up to my wrists in melted chocolate and butter and battling to keep the boys from tossing flour all over everything while flouring the pan. Someone smelled like poo. The boys denied pooping their pants. The smell wouldn't go away.

It was time to add the eggs. Nick cracked an egg and then tossed the shell into the batter with the egg. I picked out shells. He felt bad and nearly cried because he thought he messed the whole thing up. I told him he was fine and the batter was fine and that we would practice our egg cracking skills more.

Still poo smell - stronger than the melted chocolate. Where is it coming from?

I smelled the boys. They were clean.

Then I turned. I saw Maya.

Sitting on my counter.

OH GOD. I smelled her as she sat there still dejected looking.

OH GOD. I lifted her up and saw a brown smeared mess under her bottom - and on my counter.

OHHHH GOD.

Now it was on my shirt as I carried her to the bathroom. I stood there holding her, not sure what I was going to do. What do I do? I looked around helplessly, trying to think of a way to get her clean without giving the cat a dreaded bath.

I had images of her long dagger like nails running through my head. I kept turning in circles and looking around scanning the area for a magic cat ass cleaning tool.

SHIT why didn't I clip her nails yesterday like I'd planned?? Why don't they make cat ass cleaners?

The boys came into the bathroom with me and we closed the door. I sat on the rim of the bathtub and prepared the kids for what was likely going to go down in that bathroom. I felt they should know that things were going to get ugly-er.

"Boys. Maya had diarrhea. She isn't feeling well and she has poop all over her tail and legs and bottom. We need to wash her. Kitties don't like water and so Maya is going to fight me and scratch me and try to get away. YOU ARE NOT TO OPEN THE DOOR. I need to get the poop off of her. You both are to stand there and watch, do not help me because I don't want you to get scratched. Are we good? Do you understand?"

They nodded with their eyes wide as they stared at Maya.

I flipped on the water and waited for it to get warm. Maya tucked her tail between her legs and waited patiently in my lap. I was surprised she didn't try to get away with the water running so close.

It was warm and ready to go. I realized I didn't think to grab pet shampoo on my way in. And I didn't have a wash rag. I'd have to use my hand. Yayy! I found the magic cat ass cleaner! It was attached to me the whole time. Good times.

I stuck her under the warm running tap and waited for her to realize she was getting wet. She didn't move. She waited as I washed her bottom and rinsed. Wow. My magic cat ass cleaner wasn't bleeding anywhere! This day was getting better!

Then I dried her off and she never once tried to scratch me or get away. She seemed relieved that she wasn't covered in crap anymore. No wonder she looked sad on the counter. She wanted someone to clean her and was hoping I'd notice her. To achieve this she smeared poop on my counter top. Smart girl.

Have you ever tried to take a tight t-shirt off of your head that is covered in liquid cat poop?

It was really hard.

Lucas is sick I think.  It might - might - have been a huge mistake to let him play outside in the cold for so long.

I Did It!

I quit the facebook.

Finally!! It feels sooo good.

We will see how I feel about it tomorrow. I suspect there will be withdrawal symptoms, possible twitching, hair pulling and potential anal leakage.

Ok, ok. I agree, that was way over the line. 

Anyway, that is where the two bottles of wine come into the picture.

Although. . . . I'm not sure that I thought this through all the way because tomorrow I'm going to be locked in the house with the kids due to the bad weather.

I think we will watch some movies and bake brownies. Chocolate and two bottles of wine solves everything right?

AND a facebook friend from high school (*gasp I quit facebook what have I done??* first panic attack) gave me a reportedly fantastic brownie recipe which includes a super secret butter and chocolate technique that will make people want to kill me for my recipe. Allegedly.

He is a big foodie who manages enormous culinary endeavors like feeding all the people at the G8 summit and at universities and hotels. . . . so I gather that this recipe is indeed as good as he claims.

I hope I'm able to pull it all off.

Lucas spent almost an hour and a half outside in 14 degree weather - not including the winds (-10 degree windchill).  He kept telling me that he was fine and didn't feel cold. I watched him through the window as he spent his time on his hands and knees playing in the snow and dirt.  He had a blast. 

When he came in I took his gloves off and felt his hands and he was warmer than I was.  Even his ears were warm.  I'm glad that he has snow pants and gloves that are waterproof so that he can enjoy the outdoors even when it is this cold.  I think he'd be fine out there if it were a lot colder too - the kid was really warm!

Nick on the other hand seems to be a warm weather kid.  He doesn't have any body fat and doesn't tolerate cool temps well at all.  He was outside dressed as the state puff marshmallow man for about 15 minutes and decided that he'd seen all there was to see.  He and the dog played inside while Lucas stayed outside.

Fee Fi Fo Fum

Lucas started trying to recite the Fee Fi Fo Fum poem.  I assumed he learned it at school, and I didn't remember the poem except for the first line.  So I googled it (as I do everything, I have a real problem) and this is how the poem goes:

Fee! Fie! Foe! Fum!
I smell the blood of an Englishman.
Be he 'live, or be he dead,
I'll grind his bones to make my bread.

I without thinking read this to my four year old.  And THEN I comprehended it. 

What the hell is up with these nursery rhymes???? 

The other night Lucas picked up a book with the story Hansel and Gretel in it.  That is the story he wanted to read.  I - again - have forgotten how the story goes.  Something about bread crumbs in the forest. 

So we read it. 

THE MOTHER abandons her young children in the forest.  Not once.  But twice. 

This was supposed to be a soothing bedtime story.  In fact, that was the title of the book.  BEDTIME STORIES. 

Really? 

"Here children, let's all cuddle on the couch and read this nice warm fuzzy story about a witch that keeps Hansel in a cage so she can fatten him up and EAT him. And don't you ever push anyone into a furnace and burn them to death like Gretel did - she was working under extreme conditions. . . Good night.  Sleep tight. Mommy loves you and would never leave you in the forest to starve to death."

Suddenly

. . . .it's quiet. 

Ohhhhh my gosh that sounds so good.  Nothing to hear . . .

Holy SHIT what are they up to?? 

Panic. 

What is going on? 

Why is it so quiet? 

Where are they?

Oh.  It is just Nick climbing up the closet shelves.  And Lucas stuffing wheels off of his toy truck between my mattresses.

It's not life and death this time.

Grumpy

I'm tired.
And I'm thinking of quitting this blog. 

And I'm thinking of quitting Facebook.

And I'm really having a bad day.

I'm tired of arguing with Nick about why he shouldn't stick his finger in the pencil sharpener.

I start to cry when I think about how good a foot massage would feel.

AJ is gone all week.

My travel plans to join him may be cancelled due to an overly dramatic weatherman.

I tried to do something nice for the boys (it is hard when Daddy leaves) so I purchased two new toys. 

I then spent 45 minutes with a tantruming child because he picked out a toy (and brought it home) that he ended up not liking as much as his brother's toy.

The red raging fury that comes with not getting what he wants is apocalyptic.

This pile of laundry was 9 loads. 

NINE loads.

Consequences Suck

It is time to release some of the insulation I have tightly wrapped around my kiddos, in particular, Lucas.

I'm tired of fighting with him to get naked for shower time.  Last night I just didn't have the energy and so I told him that he can decide to take his clothes off and shower or he can decide to spend the rest of the evening in his room.  He opted for the room.  5 minutes into his decision he suddenly wanted a shower.  I reminded him that he was asked repeatedly to get in the shower and that he made a decision to not take a shower, and now he was going to live with his decision.  Lucas was not happy, and neither was I (I second guess everything and want to give in to make my little guys happy) but damn it I can't keep struggling with them over every single thing.

Life has consequences and I shouldn't be caving in and cushioning them from the natural consequences of their decisions.  Obviously I will still cushion some of them, because he's four but, it is going to be very hard to retrain myself to let go of the reigns a little and let him have some power. . . and then live with it. 

Another example:  Lucas would not sit still for our bedtime story.  He put his feet on the book, he stood on his head - he was behaving terribly.  I told him repeatedly to sit still or else he would not finish the story with Nick and me.  His behavior continued.  So Nick and I moved to Nick's bed and finished the story.  Lucas cried and cried.  I informed him that his decision to act out resulted in him not finishing the story.  I told him that next time he should make a better decision.  Then I gave him a hug and kiss good night, told him I loved him and then . . .I left him there.  Crying.  And it ripped me up. 

Obviously for someone other than Lucas's Momma this wouldn't be such a difficult move.  For anyone looking from the outside in this may seem like a no-brainer.  But it is MY blue eyed baby that is devastated.  And that is very hard on both of us.

Tonight if Lucas won't get undressed I will stick him in the shower with his clothes on.  And I will give him his options before I do anything - because he needs to make the decision.  Do I stand in the shower with my clothes on (it would kill Lucas to be in there with clothes), or do I want to take my clothes off?  Nick is a different kid.  When he gets to this stage I don't know what we will do.  He would LOVE to be in the shower with clothes on. 

Well.  That's what's going on over here.  I feel like I will break in half if I keep bending and caving in and allowing them to change their minds. . . I just can't keep providing all the options and solutions.  It is exhausting.

Lucas tearfully told me last night that he has so many things and ideas going through his head that he has a hard time knowing what decision to make.  I told him that he is new at the decision thing and he'd get better at it with practice.  And then I gave him a big ol hug and kiss and told him I loved him.   

Vitamin D Needed

The outdoor temperature was cold and the wind made it very cold.  Of course I chose a park on an exposed slope with no wind protection. . . I'm smart like that.  But we are tougher than the stinkin' wind chill factor and persevered.  Lucas was blinded by the bright - but not warm enough - sun.  We had a picnic and then ran around to warm up.  It was good to get out!

FIVE new ones

I went BLOG crazzzzzy and put five new posts up in one day.  So keep on scrolling down. . . .

In Between Farts and Burps

These boys are gross.

Nick came over to me, as I sat at the dinning table, and he climbed up on my lap with this odd smile on his face.  I just thought my cuddly wuddly baby boy wanted some Momma time.  Suddenly out of the BLUE my world (and leg) was rocked by an enormous and wet sounding fart that was horribly long and drawn out. 

Y'all.  It was on my leg. 

Nick turns and LAUGHS so hard.  Little bastard did it on purpose. 

It was all I could do not to laugh super hard. . . because Nick was soooo thrilled with his performance that his laughter was contagious. But I maintained and managed a stern face and a warning.

Then.  Then he stiffens up and tries to have an encore.  When he can't muster another one he laughs maniacally all over again.  Ok.  So he totally doesn't take my stern expression seriously.  Crap. Now what?  Is this time-out worthy?

Lucas then comes over and starts burping little burps.  Over and over again.  He tries to blow them in my face.

Y'all.  In my face.

These kids are 2 and 4.  I have not been teaching them this.  Their father has not been teaching them this.  They don't watch any TV shows or movies that would teach them this.  Their friends don't seem to do this. 

It is as if they are genetically wired to take enormous pleasure in bodily functions.

I'm having scary visions of my future: weekly parent teacher conferences and angry phone calls from parents. 

In the mean time I need to work on . . . . a meaner facial expression?

1986

The boys wanted me to blow dry their hair.  We went with an '80's do.

Nick is hard to pin down for a picture.  They were both stylin'.

Paint the Piggies

The boys received white ceramic piggy banks for Christmas from their Grammy and Pop.  With the piggies came acrylic paint pens so the boys could add their own artistic flair to their pigs.  We finally found the time and energy to supervise the painting.

There was quite a bit of white pig left so we may have another paint session at some point.  This was such a great gift though, the boys love that their pigs are exactly as they want them.

Dinner Picnic

When Daddy is gone all week. . . and Mommy is tired of yelling at the kids to stay seated while eating. . . . this is how we roll. 

Before you have kids this is one of those things you swear you won't do.  I was an idiot.  Sometimes you do what ya gotta do to maintain harmony.

Overdue Pics

 This is Nick pushing his belly out, while telling us that he is too full to eat any dinner.  "I'm going to pop open." The kid is impossible to feed.

Something New

Several weeks ago I heard four of five ladies I know talking about eye makeup.  They were saying how they like to make their eyes smokey.  I was totally confused, as my eye makeup knowledge is limited to occasional mascara.  It was really interesting to me because I had no idea that all these ladies knew so much about makeup and its application.  It should have been obvious, because their eyes look amazing, but I had never paid attention.

So I started to do some research.  I read about all the endless types of eye makeup.  Then once I was confused by enough types I decided to further confuse myself by reading about the application process - and what order the application is to occur.  And blending, and layering, and brushes, and brand names, with color choices and eyeliners with more blending. . . . . holy shit. 

And ladies.  I know most of my readers are just as confused by this stuff as I am, so let me tell you this.  There is primer.  YES PRIMER.  For your eyelids.  Just like a latex paint primer.  You must prime your eyelids before putting eyeshadow on or else your eyeshadow clumps up in the crease of your eye lid. 

I.  KNOW.  RIGHT?  Who knew?

So I decided to break out of my comfort zone and experiment with the girly side of life.  It might be fun. With my head spinning and confused I set out for my local Target store to try to locate and purchase some of these materials.  If they can do it, maybe I can do it too. 

I walked up and down the isles carefully reading each item that looked like it might go onto an eye.  Most of them were really confusing.  They didn't have any directions on any of the items to indicate how or when (in the layering process) to apply.  The assumption is that you already know.  I finally found one brand that had 4 different eye shadows, a primer, and a "highlighter?" plus on the back it told me step by step which order to layer.  PERFECT.  I also bought yellow stuff to hide the dark circles under my eyes - which I don't think I have but I assume I do, since everything I read said that a woman my "age" has them.  I bought green goop to hide blemishes.  I then bought brushes because I gather brushes are needed. . . but I'm not entirely sure why. 

I went home after dedicating an hour and a half shopping, with the bronzers, the lip glop, the eyeliner, foundation, powder, mascara, eyelash curler. . . . my GOD the list is incredible. 

The application process was a bit intimidating.  I was in the bathroom for 47 minutes by AJ's clock.  He came to check on my well being several times.  He also repeatedly heard me nervously knocking all sorts of stuff off the counter as I tried to "blend" correctly.  And how far up do you take the eyeshadow?  The brow bone seems so high up.  And my eyebrows are so "overgrown" according to the research.  I couldn't begin to shape an eyebrow. . .

In the end it was a good experiment.  I don't know if I'm cut out to prime my eyelids though.

"Learning"

My 4 year old - not yet 4 ½ year old - is more technologically knowledgeable than I am. 

My child knows how to use a Smart Board. 

I thought I'd at least be ahead of him for a couple more years.  However, his preschool has decided to provide all the rugrats with technology in the name of "learning" and other bullshit.  :-)  kidding.

In the process of providing my child with these supposedly valuable experiences the preschool has reduced my meager (and formerly superior) ability to switch from "TV MODE" to "DVD MODE" on our TV useless - because Lucas is now leaps and bounds ahead of me.  His little fingers fly around the remote and presto.  We are downloading a movie from Netflix. 

Mermaids

Lucas announced he knew that Tuna was made out of Mermaids.  The Mermaids are extra tasty with the scales from the tail.  Diced pickles in the tuna sandwich = scales from the tail. 

So now he asks for a Mermaid sandwich. 


I have not posted photos because I have exceeded my photo limit for blogger.  Not sure what to do about this.  So I may have to go and delete a bunch of photos - or I can pay money for more space.  Until I decide what to do, I may just give you a link to click on for photos.

I've Reached My Limit

My children have decided over a period of time - gradually - that what we parents tell them to do (don't destroy couches, don't climb furniture, don't hit ,etc) is optional.  Their ears don't work, they don't listen and I am tired of sounding like a broken record as I beg my deaf children to not tear holes into my belongings. 

And I didn't realize this until it came to the discipline phase of parenting, but consistency is next to impossible.  Every single situation is slightly different and it is easy to fall off course in the consistency department because it sneaks up so gradually.  I'm trying to stay on track, oh man I am really trying, but I'll be honest I haven't been as good about it as I need to be.  I've let too many unacceptable behaviors go because I was too tired, too distracted, too overwhelmed . . .  the excuses are endless.  The point is that these behaviors need to stop.

I'm tired of begging.  I'm tired of throwing my hands up in frustration.  I'm tired of yelling. 

Today Lucas threw me attitude when I told him to not JAM his toys into my couch.  So I picked his little ass up and put him in a bedroom.  Nick threw me attitude when I told him not to throw toys so he was picked up and put into a bedroom. 

They screamed and screamed in fury. 

I went into the room Lucas was in and told him that I did not want him to play with the electric blanket and that he could go select toys to play with and bring into the room.  He gave me a look of more attitude.  So I told him that if he didn't go get some toys he'd sit there without toys.  He sat there.  Fine.  I closed the door and he didn't have toys.  His choice.  He started screaming.  Too bad. 

Nick decided to destroy his favorite book while he was screaming in his room.  So I threw the favorite book away.  He freaked out.  Too bad.  Don't destroy books.  His choice.

I went in to check on Lucas and he had obviously dismantled the electric blanket.  I asked him if he'd played with the blanket.  He looked me in the eye and lied to me.  So he went into another room - without anything at all to play with or mess with.  I told him that his behavior was completely unacceptable and he'd better shape up.  He screamed and cried again.  I closed the door.

Nick is refusing to stay in his bedroom so I am ignoring him right now, as he hangs out the door screaming "Mommy, mommy, mommy!!"  Over and over and over again.  He's been screaming for 30 minutes.  I don't care if he screams for the rest of the day.  He either follows the most basic rules or he's going to have a very difficult childhood. 

I have good kids.  I love them.  But the rest of the world won't tolerate them standing on furniture, crawling on tables, hitting, hurting, destroying belongings, and neither should I.  It would be a disservice to them to allow them to get away with this in my home - only for them to find out that the rest of the world doesn't want to be around them due to their behavior.

So that's it.  I'm a very unpopular Momma today. . . and I'm just going to have to be ok with them screaming in fury because I won't allow them to get away with breaking the rules. 

Food Donations for the Women of Hollywood

I watched the Golden Globe red carpet shindig on TV.  Some of those ladies need food - fast.  I can't figure out how a couple of them found the strength to totter down the red carpet at all. 

The worst of all is Angelina Jolie.  She needs someone to hold a food drive for her.   She actually had to wear a baggy dress just so that we wouldn't know for sure that she is a walking skeleton.

It was kinda gross.  Alright, correction:  it was very gross. 

No one likes to see starving people on TV, it is just plain upsetting.

And what is equally upsetting is all the spouses/significant others who look semi-normal pretending as if the person who is clinging to their arm isn't about to suffer from starvation induced organ failure.

Batshit Crazy

I just learned this term today while reading about the "batshit crazy" dude involved in the AZ shootings a week ago.  Here is what Urban Dictionary had to say about the term:

"A person who is batshit crazy is certifiably nuts. The phrase has origins in the old fashioned term "bats in the belfry." Old churches had a structure at the top called a belfry, which housed the bells. Bats are extremely sensitive to sound and would never inhabit a belfry of an active church where the bell was rung frequently. Occasionally, when a church was abandoned and many years passed without the bell being rung, bats would eventually come and inhabit the belfry. So, when somebody said that an individual had "bats in the belfry" it meant that there was "nothing going on upstairs" (as in that person's brain). To be BATSHIT CRAZY is to take this even a step further. A person who is batshit crazy is so nuts that not only is their belfry full of bats, but so many bats have been there for so long that the belfry is coated in batshit. Hence, the craziest of crazy people are BATSHIT CRAZY."



If the orgins of this term are true than it is the single greatest thing I've heard in a long time.  No, I know, I don't get out much.  I'm totally going to look for reasons to use this in my everyday life.  I could just randomly start accusing innocent people of being batshit crazy just so that I can say it.  Batshit crazy. 

HA HA HA HA HAAAA!!

The Brothers

The sneaky attack.

 The chase.

The collision. 

The apology.

The game continues.

The hanging spit.

The fake bite.

The giggles.

The cuteness.



Nick Has Fallen and He Can't Get Up

 Do you see this kid? He's throwin' me some gang signs.  What the hell is that about? 

I need to get Nick one of those old people panic buttons that he can wear around his neck.  What are they called?  Life Alert?  Something like that.  Here's why:  Yesterday we had some friends over and it was a little noisy.  Nick was overwhelmed so I told him he could go hang out in his room for a bit and relax.  He happily went off for some alone time and closed his door to keep everyone out. 

A few minutes later I suddenly decided to check on him.  Call it Momma's intuition maybe.  As I went down the hall I heard him faintly calling me.  I opened his bedroom door and found him partially buried under his dresser, which had fallen onto him. 

Yeah. 

I lifted the dresser, with one hand, and got him out from under it, and immediately stripped him down to check for injuries.  Thankfully he was just terrified, not injured.  He had a bump on his head and that was all. 

All the drawers were on the ground, everything on top of the dresser was on the ground.  My dear friends  picked up the dresser and cleaned up while I held my kiddo and took a big sigh of relief.

Here is the dresser:  By the way, the boys have removed all the knobs and I have no idea where they all are. . . they are slowly disassembling my home, one screw at a time. 

We have bolted most of our furniture to the wall.  All the dressers and certainly all the bookcases are attached to the walls.  This is the one dresser that isn't bolted to the wall because we figured it was too low to the ground to pose much of a risk. 

WRONG. 

Lesson learned.  If there is a way to take a ride in an ambulance, they will find it - and they will do their best to give you a heart attack in the process.  Then, they will throw some gang signs.

This Is The Part Where I Complain, Again

Yall.

There was a poop-tastrophe that might put to shame all former poop-tastrophes. 

It was incredible. 

It was everywhere. 

It was foul.

Poor Nick went into the playroom for his normal "privacy".  When he came out I could smell that something wasn't quite right so I put him on a towel, just to safe.  I wasn't safe enough. 

He laid down on the towel and I lifted his little legs up as I pulled his pants off.  That's when it all went to hell.  The poop drained (yes, drained) from the diaper and rolled up his back and onto the back of his head. 

I still have to go and sanitize my shower with bleach tonight.

Any volunteers?  Anyone want to come and do it for me?


Lucas was up at 4:30 am and he didn't get back to sleep.  I had to bring him into my bedroom (AJ's gone this week) so that he wouldn't wake Nick up.  Juuusssst as we were both falling asleep Nick comes tearing into the bedroom awake and ready for action. 

On the upside, they are both so freakin' cute lately.  I have become very good at ignoring and tuning out the near constant fighting, which is good.  Today Nick looked right at me and chucked a tennis ball at my head.  He hit me in the forehead, and then spent 3 minutes in timeout screaming about how I'm not "nice".  When he got out of time out he stood in front of me and screamed and ordered me to go pick up his tennis ball "now".  Yeah.  I don't know where he comes up with this stuff.  He is funny, but very challenging.  After the tennis ball fiasco, he decided to come up behind Lucas and throw a blanket over his head and then tackle him.  It was an unpopular game with Lucas, but Nick sure thought it was funny.

Lucas decided to "organize" our pantry.  I was so tired that I didn't bother to supervise, I just left him in there thumping around.  As it turns out I can't find a single thing in there now.  He is so funny though because he was very detailed in explaining to me that he has a system and that I just don't know the system. He put all the beans behind the waterfall and all the tomatoes under the gasoline tank.  His imagination is really fantastic.  I love it when he shares his imaginary world with me.

Parenting Class

A flier was sent home with Lucas about an upcoming parenting class for fathers that is offered through Lucas's preschool. 

I think it is a valuable class and I am impressed that the school is able to provide it free of charge.  They also provide free childcare on site along with free dinner (an evening class) and a free book for each of your children, each night you attend.  It is an 8 week course, one day a week.

The reason I mention all this is that on one flier there are some quotes from fathers who attended last year.  Here they are:

"Since this class, I've been staying in control when they do something wrong."
"They're not as scared - don't have that fear in their eye."
"I wasn't putting forth the effort, and now I'm trying to again."

That fear in their eye?  Upsetting.  YAYYY for the preschool for offering a class that I imagine makes a difference for some kids.

Fruity and Loopy

Can you spot the problem with this basket of fruit?  This is in the center of our dining table.

Here is another angle.

Judging by the teeth marks I have determined that Nick is the culprit. 

In other news, Lucas climbed up the back of a chair, and then went head over and landed on top of his noggin.  He lost consciousness for a brief period and then when he started to come back around he wasn't able to focus or answer questions or keep his eyes open and when his eyes were open they  were rolling all around.  AJ and I waited and held him for about 20 minutes thinking he'd come out of it and then decided that we were going to play it safe and we took him to the Emergency Department. 

When he first got there he was wobbly and not really able to walk well, but that could have been because he fell asleep in the car.  Shortly after Lucas was checked in, he suddenly was acting just fine.  He was alert and behaving normally. 

The doctor told us that he probably had a concussion and that we needed to keep an eye on him for the next few days.  We were told to bring him back if he starts behaving strangely or vomiting.  She said that since he was behaving normally at that moment that she'd rather not expose him to the radiation of a CT scan at his young age - and I was supportive of that. 

I guess. . . after reading all the discharge paperwork, that they consider a concussion a brain injury.  I did not know that. I don't know why it hadn't occurred to me to classify a concussion as a brain injury.  Thankfully I didn't freak out or panic this time, because you may remember that he did this to me once before and I called 911 when I saw his eyes rolling all around.  This time when his eyes were rolling all over the place it wasn't as scary.  But I'm glad we took him in, just to be safe.