Oh...Dear...Lord...

   

     This weekend has been packed with incredible friends and fun.  I have spent the entire week prepping for Molly's birthday bash, including baking and decorating an incredible castle cake for my princess, all the way down to pressure washing our back decks for the occasion as well.  The cake...well it was far from perfect, and it caused a lot of random cursing, but I think it came out pretty cool if I do say so myself.  I have never made my own fondant and decorated my own cake, so the fact that it even resembled a castle at all is pretty impressive.  I have to admit, the pressure washer did give me the distinct "Tim Allen from Home Improvement" kind of feeling.   That thing is awesome.  I totally need one of those to clean everything. Our friend was celebrating her birthday Saturday night, so we took a small break from preparations for our own celebration, to head over to their place and see some of our friends.  The next day was filled with fun and craziness as we prepared for the insanity of having several (I think we had 12 kids at one point) over to our place to celebrate Molly's birthday, and we figured, why not double the fun and make it a Memorial Day cookout as well?  One of my mommy friends asked what the theme of Molly's party was going to be.  My response..."I don't know, Princesses, burgers and dogs, and beer?"  I think she was slightly horrified, but that is how we roll around this place.   All in total, I think we had more than 35 people wandering through our house, participating in a fabulous party for my sweet little Princess of Destruction.  I had a small pool in the front yard, a jumpy house on our front porch, a sprinkler set up in the yard as well, and tons of bubbles and water guns. Finally, all of the adults that wished to hide from the toddler insanity upstairs, hung out in our basement, and from all appearances, seemed to have a nice time as well.  Prepare for a little picture overload...
   As you can imagine, all of my hard work cleaning and prepping for the party seemed senseless once everyone had left for the evening.  The children were tired and slap happy, Mike and I were exhausted, and my house appeared to have had an explosion during the party.  Perhaps we shall simply say "Hurricane Toddler Party" passed through my house, leaving chaos and mayhem in its wake.  I stood there surveying the damage, waded through the sea of toys, and climbed into bed...Like any sane person would have done.  It was all SO worth it though.  Molly loved her cake, and she had a blast.  This girl loves being the center of attention.  My friends said they felt like they were in the presence of a celebrity because of this blog.  They all feel like they know my sweet kids, and that they have experienced my crazy stories with me.  Well...some of them have :) Sandra has seen many of them first hand.  I can't thank all of you guys enough for coming out and celebrating with us.  We know it is a hike all the way out here, but it is awesome to see you guys, and I wish it could happen more often.  And on that note...It isn't a complete blog post without a silly story about my sweet babies.
   This morning, I was getting dressed in my bedroom, surrounded by my Peanut Gallery, as always.  Molly and Colin were fighting over my Kindle Fire, so I took it away and put it out of reach.  Colin left to find something better to do, but Molly quickly realized Mike's phone was plugged in to charge on our bedside table.  I was attempting to find something to wear, but I had only managed to locate a bra so far...I heard Molly giggling behind me as I opened my underwear drawer.  And then I heard it...oh...dear...Lord.  No, she did not just take a picture of me.  I hear it again, the distinct sound of a shutter on a camera, and Molly giggles saying simply..."Say cheese Mommy."  By turning around to grab the phone, I have now exposed even more of myself, the camera goes off again...and then I remember.  Dear Sweet  Baby Jesus!!  Mike has his phone set to upload his pictures directly to Google Plus...My a$# is now on the internet...I let a few expletives of choice fly out of my mouth as I lunge for the phone, while attempting to cover myself, but that little girl is quick with the shutter.  I keep hearing the camera go off as I begin screaming for my husband to come quickly.  Colin enters the room to see what was going on, and I begin to use my son as a human shield.  Of course, in hindsight, this may have appeared even worse on the internet.  Colin is just confused as I pick him up, and use him to cover all of my indecent exposure.  Mike finally comes back to the room to save me, and our family's honor, by taking away his phone from our adorable daughter.  Why me??  Mike immediately went into his Google account, and luckily, our daughter is a horrible photographer.  All of the photos were blurry and out of focus.  I asked him to delete them anyway, on principle, if nothing else.  He of course had to make a joke about hoping for some of them to come out, so that he could keep them for his "personal file."  I may have smacked my husband in the back of the head.  Crisis averted, but I did recommend removing the auto upload feature for future reference.  This girl is going to keep me on my toes. Thank God she is so stinkin cute :)

My Princess of Destruction...wearing an apron, an oven mitt, and carrying her brand new mace :)

Molly and Pooh Bear, We think Pooh may have gotten into the alcohol...

things that make you go, hmmm...?

    As I sit on the couch with my sweet little guy, he is hugging and snuggling all over me.  I am laying on the couch, still in my jammies and glasses, checking my Facebook on my phone.  He snuggles, and asks "are you done yet mommy?"  Me  "No bud, but I will be in just a minute, why?" Colin  "I want to push the house button and play Birds." Me "Ahhh, I see. Well Mommy is using her phone right now, so you have to wait your turn." Colin "OK, Mommy...You have very beautiful glasses...and soft hair."  Is the kid actually trying to butter me up?  Yes, I think he is.  Me "Well thank you Colin, that is very sweet."  Colin "yeah...are you almost done with your game?" Me "Almost buddy, but you need to wait patiently."  Colin "Mommy, (as he pets my breast and stares at them), has the baby come out of your boobies yet?"  Oh dear...I think my discussion of breasts and their purpose has gone terribly wrong.  Me "Ummm...No Colin.  Babies don't come out of boobies.  Mommies just use them like bottles to feed their babies when they are small.  Babies come out of bellies." Colin "Oh,  I have a belly, can I have a baby."  Me "Nope, just girls can make babies in their bellies." Colin "Molly is a girl, can she make a baby in her belly." Me "Well...no, not until she is a grown up, only grown up girls can make babies.  And God knows she better wait until then." Colin "Huh?" Me "Nothing bud.  Mommy needs to start the coffee, desperately, would you like a cup of chocolate milk?" Colin "OK mommy.  You are a grown up girl, right.  Can you have a baby in your belly?"  That coffee may need a shot of something, and it is only 9 am. Me "Hey look, the Backyardigans are on..."
    This is one curious little guy...please tell me I am not the only one fielding these questions with their four year old??

My Mommy has boobies!!!

  I had to take the kiddos in with me to the hospital on Monday.  I was working, and Mike was going to stop by before 3pm, and pick up the kids.  We went down to the locker room together, changed into my scrubs, and headed back upstairs to wait on daddy.  We walked around and visited a few of the nurses stations while we waited.  Colin walked up to a group of my coworkers, and said.
"This is my mommy, her name is Heidi Bryan.  My mommy has boobies."
Luckily, my coworkers have a sense of humor, and they seemed to think it was hilarious.  Actually, it was pretty hilarious.  I explained that we had a recent anatomy discussion, and they all smiled and nodded with complete understanding.  Besides, it was a group of labor and delivery nurses.  We are a pretty difficult crowd to embarrass. Later, I found myself explaining that babies don't come out of boobies, they just use them to eat...this kid is going to keep me on my toes.  He still hasn't asked much about what I do.  He knows that I am a nurse, and that I help mommies get the babies out of their tummies.  Mike pointed out that might even be too much information.  He may have a point.  I am not sure I am ready to explain HOW the babies get out of their mommy's bellies, or even better yet, I know I am not ready to explain how the babies get into their mommy's bellies.  I guess I will just wait and see what he asks next :)

Is it really only 1 PM??

   Today has been a long day already.  It started with the fabulous adventure of taking the kids with me to the doctors office for some blood work.  I made the mistake of letting the doc pick the appointment time, so I was supposed to be there at 8:45 am.  I truly believe that nothing should happen before 10 am that requires me to be out of my pajamas, so this was not the way I wanted to start my day.  Not only did I have to force myself out of bed, I had to make the kids get up and get dressed as well.  So I was running late, of course.  We made it to the office about 15 minutes late, and I was incredibly grateful that no one seemed to mind.  They took me right back, drew the three tubes of blood, and even made conversation with my little guys.  Nothing makes a mommy happier than feeling like your children are welcome, and when people seem to understand that they are here with you because they have to be.  Not because you wanted to ruin everyone else's day, or office visit, or shopping trip.  Trust me, I would love to have a trip to the doctor without my kids in tow, but as it stands, I am the primary caregiver, and they aren't in school full time just yet.  The office staff had a blast with my little guys, and one of the girls even pointed out that Molly had a Pull-Up breech...They pointed me to a very large, roomy bathroom where I was able to change Molly, and get ready for our next adventure.
   Off to the next hospital...Mommy has to get her yearly TB test so that she can continue to work :)  We report to My hospital, and hike all the way over to employee health.  Both kids are starting to get antsy at this point, but this particular mission must be completed.  I am greeted by a man at the desk, and I explain that I just need my TB skin test.  He looks at my children, then back at me, and says "well, you need to come back with out the kids.  They aren't allowed back in our clinic."  Seriously??  I politely explain that I don't have family in town, or a regular sitter, and that I work weekends so that my husband can keep the children.  I also point out that they aren't open on the weekends, or I would have never burdened them with the presence of my children, who, may I point out are sitting quietly in chairs, waiting on mommy to get done.  I offer to go back to L&D and drop them off with some co workers if they thought that was a better option, or perhaps, someone could come out to the waiting room, inject my arm with the tiny injection, and I would be on my merry way.  They take me back quickly, and in less than a minute, I am done.  They instruct me to come back on Friday, without the kids, to have the test read.  No problem...I find it interesting that they would make something so difficult when I am sure that a large chunk of their employees are woman, and work in the hospital on off shifts so that they can take care of their children. Whatever, meanwhile, I realize that it is Wed, and L&D has their staff meetings on this day.  By some crazy happenstance, I am passing right by the meeting.  I rarely get to attend these mandatory meetings for the very same reason that I can't go anywhere without my children.  I stick my head in the door, ask if I can come in with my kids, and hope for the best.  Colin sits down with a juice box and a bag of goldfish, Molly is ready to go.  She starts the meeting by spinning the chair around she is sitting in.  She moves to briefly coloring, a small snack, and then she asks for my phone.  I knew we were in trouble when she hit the Netflix app.  My phone has very little reception in the hospital, and sure enough, it won't let her watch her "penguin movie" that she has chosen.  She starts to cry, I briefly get her calm, and then it starts all over again.  I get glares from the other people at the meeting, accompanied by a few understanding smiles.  One of the managers asks me to leave right as I was already making the decision that this wasn't going to happen.  Oh well, yet another staff meeting missed.  Maybe they should record them, and put them on line.  That way, I could watch them while my children are in the comfort of their own home, and then I could be compliant with my employers wishes without disturbing anyone else.  Wishful thinking.
    The bad news, I still have to hit the grocery store, and the kids are already DONE.  I can't even really remember what I need besides milk, and a UV shirt for my very fair little man.  He has two, but I can't seem to find them anywhere.  I decide to hit Wal-Mart so that I can get both groceries and possibly the shirt as well.  Bad idea...shopping at lunch time, with two toddlers who already wanted to be through about an hour ago.  Shopping trip full of impulse purchases...I think I agreed to everything. And props to the Wal-Mart marketing team.  The shopping trip was a hot bed of fun and exciting things for my little guys.  We left with un-needed snacks, Angry Bird shirts for both kids, UV shirt for Colin, and apparently close to $200 worth of stuff, at least, that is what the nice lady at the cash register requested from me.  I may or may not have let an expletive loudly slip out of my mouth at the total.  Mike may kill me...fabulous.  I slide my card, pick up my head, and attempt to convince myself that we need and will use everything I just purchased.  It certainly had nothing to do with survival in a store with two small children...or an overly exhausted mommy that fasted for her bloodwork, and still hasn't had coffee.  Nope...We needed everything.  I may just start waiting until the kids are in bed to go shopping.  Just another day in mommy paradise.

anatomy lesson, part two

   So, this evening, I discovered that Colin had what appeared to be an entire sandbox in his hair.  I knew this was going to take some serious hair washing to get it out.  Colin hates having his hair washed, so this was going to take a little extra work on my part.  He voluntarily entered the shower, but he was avoiding the water stream with his head.  I had just left work, and decided that I could use a shower as well.  Just for good measure and good times, Molly joined us.  Thank goodness for huge showers.  I lathered both children from head to toe, lathered myself, and we all rinsed off.  Colin and Molly take a seat on the bath mat, and proceed to watch me get dried off.  And the lesson begins...

Colin "Mommy, do you pee pee out of your butt?"

Me "I'm sorry, what?"

Colin "You and Molly have butt pee pees, I have a different pee pee, like Daddy."

Molly "yeah, butt pee pee." giggles follow

Me "well...Mommy and Molly have inside pee pees, and you and Daddy have outside pee pees.  Girls and boys have different parts, and you and Daddy are boys, and Molly and I are girls."

Colin "oh...why?"

Me "well...because God made us that way."

Colin and Molly "oh....ok."

Colin "Mommy, girls have boobies too, right?"

Molly "yeah girls have boobies." more giggles

Me "well, yes.  Girls do have boobies as well."

Colin "why do you have boobies?"

Me "Girls have boobies so they can feed their babies when they are small.  Mommies make milk like cows, and babies drink the milk so that they can grow."

Colin "oh...like baby Shelby and baby Avery and baby Quinn.  Do they drink milk from their mommies boobies?"

Me "yes, that is exactly right. And when the babies get big like you and Molly, mommies stop making milk, and then boobies are just...there for decoration."

Colin "hmmm...ok.  Boobies are squishy."

Me "yes, yes they are."

Colin "I like chocolate milk...can boobies make chocolate milk?"

Me "nope, nope they can't bud...why don't we all get in our pjs, and have story time.  I think our anatomy lesson is done for the evening...

insomnia...hello old friend

   Sometimes I wonder if it can actually be called insomnia when there are people or animals causing your lack of sleep.  I suppose it still qualifies since I sleep so poorly, that smallest thing can wake me.  I now understand how my mother could be snoring away, hear me cough in the other room, and jump up to see if I was having an asthma attack.  Mommy ears...blessing and a curse.  I started my adult life with a night shift position, and I kind of feel like it may have screwed up my sleep forever.  I battle with exhaustion all day, and then I have trouble unwinding and falling asleep at the end of the day.  Then I take something OTC to help, and I feel hungover and exhausted again the next day.  And then there are all of these animals or tiny people that depend on Mommy.  They have nightmares, get scared, need to go potty, and wake me up for various reasons.  And of course, they also get up earlier than I ever would voluntarily.  Two nights ago, it was the perfect storm.  I had trouble falling asleep, and the cat proceeded to try and make me insane.  He sits on the bedside table, and begs for food, until I get up and open a new can.  He woke me several times, in fact, I lost count, but I opened three containers of cat food.  I was in a sleep deprived haze, but I have to admit, I began to wonder what was happening with  the food.  He couldn't possibly be eating all of it.  It didn't take too long to figure out what was actually happening.  Abby, our incredibly low maintenance dog, started waking me up as well.  It is highly unusual for her to wake me, so I assumed it was urgent.  I let her outside, and climbed back into bed for the 5th time.  Not even an hour later, Abby was crying again.  I think I actually started to cry with her.  I got up, and let her out, only to discover the poor dog has had diarrhea...all over the floor of my foyer.  Awesome.  She goes outside, and poops again. Now I feel horrible for shushing the poor dog. I can only conclude that Abby has been eating the canned cat food, and this has caused some serious tummy issues.  I glance at my watch, it is 6 am, I have a couple more hours to sleep, so I head back to bed.  Molly must have heard the chaos just outside of her room, because in toddles Molly with pink wankie.  "Mommy, I want up."  Chubby little arms reaching up over the edge of the bed always get me.  I pick her up, toss her into bed.  She is sadly wide awake.  She pats me and says "it's ok mommy, you sleep, I stay up."  If only it worked that way kid.  I roll over and turn on the baby valium, aka Nick Jr.  "ohhh, Dora."  Maybe I can just lay here with my eyes closed for a few more minutes.
   I give up after a little while, get out of bed, make coffee, and start to get ready for the day.  Molly has an appointment with the ENT.  I tap Mike and ask him if he could keep Colin while I take her in, but he has to be at the office in a few.  Oh well, we get ready, load into the car, and I hand them both chocolate milk sippy cups and Fruit Loops in ziploc bags.  Sadly I consider it a small triumph that I managed to remember breakfast at all.  Both children are incredibly well behaved at the ENT office.  In fact, they were so good, I was worried that all of my good behavior karma was gone for the day.  Colin was pleasant and patient, and Molly followed directions like a big girl.  I was amazed.  She even completed her hearing test with headphones and everything.  Somewhere in the back of my overcrowded brain, I remember that the preschool is having a picnic.  I send out a text to my friend Sandra to check the time.  We are right around the corner from her place and the preschool, so we head to her house to kill time.  I am greeted by the smell of freshly baked muffins.  This girl makes me look bad all of the time :)  She shows me her creation.  She has altered a recipe to make it twice as healthy, and it is already a zucchini muffin.  She tells me "Well I cut the sugar and salt in half, I cut back on the oil, used egg whites, and doubled the zucchini.  That is an acceptable breakfast for them, don't you think?"  Me "Of course, but you are asking a woman who just gave her kids sippy cups of chocolate milk and bags of Fruit Loops for breakfast on our way here.  I may not be the person to ask."  She laughs and shakes her head at me, and I just simply shrug my shoulders and tell her they are tasty muffins, if nothing else.

    We caravan to the preschool, and head over to have a picnic lunch with our friends.  They have music blaring, bubbles blowing, water spraying, and all you can eat popsicles.  The kids were in heaven.  They were worn out after their fun day in the sun.  We head home to "rest" since neither of mine seem to think they need a nap anymore.  We are just getting comfortable on the couch, when I hear a knock at the door.  Colin is playing by himself in his room, but Molly is happy to hop up, and greet the person at the door.  Sadly, my front door is almost completely glass, so she is waving and talking to the person on the other side.  There is no way to ignore it now.  I get up off of the couch, and discover the little boy next door.  He is only a few months older than Colin, but his grandmother sends him over...by himself...to play with my kids.  I have been stuck feeding the kid multiple times, not to mention entertaining him for hours at a time.  I am pretty sure that the favor would not be returned either.  I open the door, and tell a small fib.  I tell him that Colin is actually napping, but maybe we can play a little later.  I feel a little guilty, but honestly, I am so tired that I don't even want to watch my own children, and I love them.  I certainly don't want watch someone else's kid.  Especially since he is a kind of a little know it all...I have got to get a curtain for that front door. After a couple of hours of "rest," I went and knocked on the neighbors door, and invited him to come and play water guns with us in the front yard.  As I looked around our front porch, I realized something.  I love my mother's day gifts, but what we really needed was a pressure washer for our porch and our decks.  When did I become the woman who wants a pressure washer as a gift??  I guess times change.  I will totally enjoy my mani/pedi when I get a chance to use it, but as I stare at the dirty front porch, I wonder if the pressure washer might have been much more practical.  Now to make a pot of coffee, and possibly head up to Home Depot with the kids to shop for pressure washers.  This could prove to be an interesting adventure, but I need to get something before we have people over for Molly's birthday next weekend.
   

I love you mommy....

   This morning, Colin and Molly were sitting in my room watching TV.  I was in the kitchen, making coffee and such.  I can hear Molly saying
Molly "I love you mommy..."
Me "I love you too Molly.."
Me to Mike "How sweet is that?"
Molly "I love you mommy..."
Me "awww, I love you too Molly."
Colin "Mommy, she wants to know where you are, she isn't saying I love you..."
Me "oh...I am in the kitchen Molly."
Molly "can I have some chocwate milk?"
me "sure....(sigh) I will be right there"

Thank God you are home...I just opened the vodka

  Monday was a long day, and I am pretty positive it had something to do with working until midnight on Sunday night, and coming home to bake 24 cupcakes for Molly's class party the next day.  I went to bed around 2 am on Monday morning after baking and frosting cupcakes, and 7 am came around way too quickly. I awoke to two small children that were not at all interested in going to school.  Molly's Luau and singing presentation was at 10 am, so this meant I needed to be showered and dressed, not just awake and in the car pool line.  I jumped, ok, stumbled into the shower, and contemplated whether or not there was good place for my coffee cup in the shower with me.  Of course, by this point, I just need an IV drip of caffeine started to even keep me going.  I throw on some clothes, dress Molly in a hawaiian dress, get Colin ready, and we all get in the car to head to school.  I walk the kids in to class, drop off the cupcakes, and head back out to the car.  I have about an hour to kill before the program is supposed to start.  I text my friend Sandra with a simple question.  "Starbucks?? I am going through the drive thru." Sandra "Do they have sedatives, or just stimulants?"   Me "oh no, what happened?"  Sandra " It starts with a J and ends with a K.  I would run away from home, but I desperately need a shower first."  Me "It would be nice if there were places to go for sedatives like coffee shops, oh wait...there are, they are called Bars :) Not sure they are open at 9 am."  I pick up two coffees, and show up at her door with my peace offering to my fellow mommy. " Here is your coffee, I promise to turn my head the other direction if you need to add a shot of something."  We head in for the class program and party together since Jack and Molly are in the same class.  The presentation was adorable, and the party went off without a hitch.  No one wanted to wear the leis or grass skirts that I purchased last week, but no big loss.

   The kids and I headed home after school.  Miraculously, Molly took a nap, despite the two cupcakes she had ingested in the last hour.  Colin refused to nap, but he did rest on the couch with me, and we had a little quiet time.  Both kids hit the witching hour full force.  Molly demanded "spaghettios" when she woke up from her nap.  She ate the first bowl quickly, and asked for a second.  I poured some more in her bowl, only to find her wearing the majority of that serving all over herself and her dress.  I stripped her, and put the dress in to soak.  She refused to put clothes back on, so I let her continue to run around naked, wearing one sandal, on her right foot.  She also refused to take the shoe off, or put the other shoe back on.  Fine, not a battle worth fighting.  I made rice and steamed broccoli for dinner.  Molly sat down to eat her second dinner in the buff, and Colin started one of his worst meltdowns in a very long time.  I simply asked him to have two bites of broccoli and rice.  For some reason, this request sent him over the edge.  That and the fact that I refused to let him play "Birds" until he had some of is dinner.  The boy lost his mind...I thought he would never stop crying.  There was snot pouring down his face, and he was shaking he was crying so hard.  The lack of sleep, and the overwhelming tantrum started to wear me down quickly.  I reached to the top of the fridge, pulled down the bottle of whipped cream flavored vodka, and made myself a very strong drink.  Within minutes, my husband enters stage right.  Me "Thank God you are home, I just opened the vodka..."  Mike looked around, trying to take in the entire situation.  Molly greeted him with her one shoe on and nothing else, Colin was huddled in a ball in the corner, sobbing his brains out.  I was standing at the kitchen island, sipping on my beverage of choice.  I am sure we were quite the sight to take in.  Mike grabbed his son, took him onto the porch for a snuggle, and managed to get him slightly settled down.  They both came back in, and had some dinner.  Well, Mike had some dinner, Colin still refused.  In the mean time, I had put Molly in the shower, and started to get ready for bed and Dancing With The Stars.  I offered Mike a drink well after his arrival, and he politely refused, saying that I might need the rest of the vodka.  When I posted this story on Facebook, I said I offered him a drink when he came home.  He quickly pointed out that I had not :)  Our friend Misty said it best..."Mike, its like when a plane is going down, you always put the oxygen mask on yourself first."  So true Misty, so true.  Believe it or not, the rest of the night went pretty well.  Molly and I had a tea party with her princess dolls in our PJs, and Colin and I snuggled while watching DWTS.  Thank goodness for those sweet moments that happen after those crazy days that make you wonder what possessed you to ever have children.  And thank goodness for vodka...and coffee :)  Because sedatives and stimulants are frequently the only way we survive as parents.

Mommies are actually superheros...

   Mommies are actually superheros...this is of course a conclusion I have come to over the last four years of motherhood.  I have the power to heal a boo boo with a single kiss, a bag full of tricks that would rival any superhero's utility belt, the ability to fold laundry faster than my three year can unfold it,  and the skills of a Tetris master when it comes to loading dishes.  I can change a diaper on a thrashing baby with one hand behind my back, and only two wipes...Ok, so this may be a slight exaggeration, but I do have some incredible skills at this point.  A mommy can make a child stop what they are doing with a single phrase, or even simply the "right look" in their direction.  A mommy's negotiation skills rival that of any lawyer. A mommy can be showered and ready to leave the house in less than ten minutes, at least when it comes to herself :) A mommy hug can make almost anything seem a little bit better, and she can do all of these things with little to no sleep on a regular basis.  This MUST make us superheros.  I mean, how else do we survive the insanity that we live every day?  Of course, I would love it if I were also granted the super power of weight loss without any effort, but I guess I will settle for the super powers I already have.

    Last night, I got to leave the hospital a little early, and I was grateful for the extra few minutes.  Any extra time with my family or even simply in my bed is always appreciated.  I arrived home to find my husband passed out in the living room among a sea of toys.  He greeted me with a gift of chocolate and a gift certificate for a mani/pedi, and said "Happy Mother's Day, your other gift is still in the SUV."  Because I was still awake, I decided to go out to the car and see what was in the SUV.  I opened all of the doors, checked the back hatch, and after scanning all of the surfaces, I didn't see anything unusual.  I walked back in the house, and announced "Whatever was in the SUV has been stolen...I don't see anything."   I was mostly joking, and I assumed he had just forgotten where he had put the "other gift."  His face fell, and he said "I had the SUV detailed and washed. I thought you would appreciate it.  Four people worked on the car for over an hour..."  Me "Oh...I'm sorry, I was just looking for a gift, I didn't actually look that closely.  I will go look again."  Strangely enough, after a second glance, the car was sparkling clean.  I am not sure how I missed it.  What an awesome gift.  I never have the time to do it myself, but it is so nice to know that I have a clean car for the first time in months.  The kids both made gifts for me while they were at school.  I know I will treasure these gifts forever, and it is hilarious to see what Colin actually "thinks" about his mother.  The interview pages are awesome, along with his "brilliant" portrait of mommy.   My favorite quote from the page is when he says what I do for work.  He seems to think that I "talk to my work friends at work."  Perhaps it is better that this is what he thinks I do for the time being.  I am not quite sure I am ready to explain my actual job in detail just yet. This interview/portrait may be framed for future reference :)
   I have spent the morning with my children, splitting my chocolate with them because they have both peed in the potty.  They are both running around, causing chaos in their wake.  Colin is attempting to win back birds that are being held "hostage" on the fridge by eating fruit for breakfast.  Molly has somehow managed to find a box of checks, and has been bringing them to me, one checkbook at a time.  I fear that is doesn't bode well that Molly is already taking control of our checking account at the ripe age of not quite three :)  Last night, I got very little sleep.  When I checked on Molly before I laid down for the night, she had fallen asleep on the floor with her head under her bed.  I pulled her out, and placed her gently in bed.  Shortly after that, somewhere around 1 AM, she came into our room, wanting to eat and watch TV.  She had removed all clothing from the waist down.  I redressed her, took her back to her room, and she proceeded to scream and cry.  I woke Mike, and told him to handle it.  I figured I got the night off for Mother's Day.  After she finally settled down, Colin came into the room after a nightmare.  He climbed into bed next to me, and he had nightmares about people taking his Angry Birds...Well, best I can figure from what he was saying in his sleep.  I guess the kid needs to start eating some fruits and vegetables so that he can get his birds back, and mommy can get some sleep. Needless to say, this post is being written while I sip on my second, LARGE cup of coffee.  I suppose this is simply proof that motherhood is the one job with no sick days, holidays, or time off.  Molly is looking at her baby book, and she is fascinated by the baby version of herself.  Looking back on the tiny little versions of my children, and their sweet fuzzy heads, I had no idea what I was in for when they were born.  I had no concept of the incredible task ahead of me, but I also had no idea of the incredible unconditional love I was truly capable of as a mother.  I wouldn't trade a moment of the madness that is my life every day.  Happy Mother's Day to all of my fellow mommies out there reading this post.  Remember, we are all superheros, at least in the eyes of our sweet children :)

Just another Thursday...

   I was brushing my hair this morning, and I realized that I have been having a bad hair year, not just a bad hair day.  I cut my hair off shortly after Molly was born, and I have been attempting to grow it out for well over a year.  Sadly, my hair is giving me the proverbial finger, and continuing to do as it pleases.  My stylist even recommended that I have my thyroid checked because it was growing so slowly.  Sadly, my thyroid is just fine, so I have absolutely no excuse for being overweight and having bad hair.  I am ready to cut it all off again, but I know that I started growing it back out for a reason as well.  Short hair requires lots of maintenance, and I have no time to keep it trimmed and colored the way it needs to be.  The actual styling takes less time with short hair, but more frequent salon trips are required.  And then there are the gray hairs.  Why do they have to be a different texture??  Isn't it bad enough that they are gray, do they have to stand on end and taunt me?  They never lay down and play nicely with the rest of the hairs, even when they are dyed the same color.
    As for the weight loss, the reason there have not been any updates is that there aren't any updates.....AARRgggghhhhh!!!  I have been working out at the gym, and I have been watching what I eat, but still, nothing...I have lost somewhere between 6 and 8 pounds depending on the day.  The scale taunts me in the mornings, and my shorts remain too tight.  I need to really get serious with the caloric intake.  I am doing better than I was, but obviously, that is not enough to continue to lose.  My fitness buddy is looking fabulous.  You would think that would be incentive enough, but for some reason, bad habits continue.  Molly came into our bedroom this morning, holding a box, and announced our pizza had arrived.  I guess it is a bad sign when your daughter's idea of breakfast in bed is delivering pizza.  The box had no pizza, but it did have Mike's keys, so he was very happy to find them before he was trying to get out of the door to the office.  Having small children can make things very challenging.  Even the simple things like finding your keys.  He spent an entire day looking for his keys a few weekends ago, and finally he asked Colin where they were.  Surprisingly enough, Colin knew exactly where they were.  Behind a bush, near the front porch...you know, where everyone keeps their keys.  Of course, it probably had a lot more to do with the Angry Bird key chain that he just put on his keys.  Colin knew where the "little green bird" was, not the keys :)
    Speaking of Angry Birds...I think my son has a problem.  He is an addict already at the young age of 4.  He dreams of birds, he wakes up ready to play birds, and even when he isn't playing the actual video game, he plays with his stuffed birds,and as my dorky husband says "he role plays with his birds."  The good news, I have an excellent bargaining tool at my disposal.  He has had two small poop accidents this week, and I told him he could only play birds after he had pooped in the potty today.  The poor kid sat on the potty for 20 minutes trying to make himself poop just so he could play the game.  I explained he would just have to wait until he needed to poop.  Needless to say, he was quite distressed that he couldn't poop on demand.  Maybe I should have slipped him some coffee in his chocolate milk??  Poor guy...maybe they have a 12 step program for Angry Bird Addicts at the preschool...

Designated Parent...

  I think all parents will recognize this title, whether you have actually used the words or not.  The DP, or Designated Parent, is the parent that gets stuck being the "grown up" for the evening, and just like the DD, you must stay sober enough to drive and parent the children.  Despite the fact that I think I should have earned extra credit for pregnancies and nursing, I still seem to lose this battle.  Perhaps because I really generally could care less about drinking heavily.  I have outgrown that phase of my life.  I have entered the phase that involves an occasional adult beverage to take the edge off the day, but I have absolutely no desire to drink to excess anymore. In fact, a half glass of wine with a little Unisom sounds fabulous by the end of my day. The last time I did have too much, I realized I was still up with the kids, even though Mike knew I was more than a little tipsy.  He fell asleep, and as always, he is incredibly difficult to wake.  There I sat, feeling horribly intoxicated, and attempting to comfort my children.  I think that moment was when I realized that I will always volunteer to be the DP from now on.  No rock, paper, scissors needed.  I will just stop after one, possibly two, if we are at home...Funny how life can change so much with the addition of two small people.  Kids...the reason we all want to drink as parents, but also the reason we can't drink much at all anymore.

whining...the exact pitch to recognize your child, or perhaps cause a brain bleed

  For the last two days, I have had a horrible, dull headache.  It has caused nausea, aggravation, and nothing seems to be making it go away.  I went to sleep last night with it, and my friend/enemy was there when I woke up this morning.  I have a sneaking suspicion that it has something to do with my sinuses and stuffy nose, but nothing seems to help.  It is for this reason that I began to wonder something I have wondered before.  Is a child's whine set at the perfect pitch for us to recognize our child is in trouble, or possibly to cause a small brain bleed?  Today, I am prone to believe the latter.  Molly has been whining all day about something, and I have no idea about what.  In fact, I am pretty sure she has no idea what she is whining about either.  All I know, is that it seems to be the most horrible sound that has ever been made, at least today that is...I am sure evolution is involved with this.  Like a momma alligator, she can tell her baby's call from all of the other gators.  I am sure we have evolved to the point that the sound of our child's distress is unique, and we are programmed to respond, and respond quickly.  God made this particular sound, crying and whining especially, so annoying that we would need to make it stop.  As a mother, your child being unhappy is very unsettling, but some days it would be nice if they simply forgot how to whine.  I know, I know...I have years and years of this ahead of me.  In fact, I am positive that teenage whining has to be worse.  But at least when they are in their teens, I will be able to explain that mommy has a headache, and then threaten their lives and driving privileges if they bother me.  Until then, I am stuck with taking mass quantities of ibuprofen and sinus meds, and hoping that closing my eyes while watching a Curious George movie will be enough to take the edge off this headache.

Reasons Monkey Joe's should have a margarita machine...

  So this morning started like any other normal morning in our house.  Molly woke up some where around 3 am, came into our room, and peeked over the edge of the bed.  "Mommy, I scared...I want up."  Super mommy would have walked her back to her bed, tucked her back in, and convinced her to sleep in her own bed.  Super exhausted mommy (aka Me) just scooped her up, tossed her into bed, and snuggled up to her "scared" daughter, praying for a couple more hours of sleep.  Perhaps it was something in the air last night, but in trots her older brother at around 6 am.  I pull him into bed as well, and realize that I have very little room left in our king size bed.  It doesn't take long for the sibling rivalry to start, even in their sleep.  Let the kicking wars begin, as well as the fight over who is closest to mommy.  I squeak out a few more minutes of "rest" before I give up, and turn on PBS.  We have a play date at 10:30 am at Monkey Joes, and at that moment, it seems light years away.  I proceed to walk around the house like a zombie, attempting to get things ready to leave, and make the kids their breakfast.  Molly has decided to help herself to breakfast this morning.  I had already handed her pancakes, but she decided to shop for something else while Mike and I were watching the news.  Mike found her sitting in front of the freezer, ice cream sandwich opened and unwrapped, spraying the sandwich with cooking spray, and licking it off.  Something is just not right with this kid sometimes...I mean, why would you ruin a perfectly good ice cream sandwich with cooking spray???  I take away the sandwich, clean her up, and get the kids dressed.  I jump into the shower, pull my hair back wet, put on some clothes, and I consider it a small triumph that we are leaving very close to "on time."
    Molly and Colin fight about what movie they want to watch in the car, and I burst both of their bubbles by leaving the radio on.  We arrive at Monkey Joes, only to discover they are paving the parking lot.  I maneuver around the paving crew, get both kids out of the car, and get into Monkey Joes.  My friend Sandra is awaiting my arrival, and I discover that the first three kids through the door are free.  Mine are of course number 4 and 5.  Oh well, mental note made.    The kids run off together, and start playing.  At some point, all four of our kids need to poop.  Jack was the first, then Lila managed to soil two diapers, Molly pooped in her pull up, and Colin had a small accident in his underwear.  I took Colin to the bathroom to finish the job, and we had a complete break down.  He hates public bathrooms, he is already a wreck from having a small accident in his pants, and he is constipated, as usual.  He is refusing to poop because it will hurt, and I can understand, but it needs to happen.  I spend at least 15 minutes in a smelly bathroom at a kids facility, begging my son and coaching him to "push it out, push it out, way out."  I swear, I even have to coach labor at home.  I pull out all of the stops, offer his favorite treats, and finally offer to let him play "Angry Birds" if he poops.  We have a small success, but I know there is more to come, and I can only hope it is enough to get us through the remainder of the play date.  We change pants, and continue to play.  Molly got stuck at the top of a slide, and refused to come down.  I had to climb all the way through a blow up obstacle course, and slide down with her.  She simply said "Thank you Mommy, can we do it again?"  I decide it is time to go.  Colin is requesting to go home, and I can only imagine it is because he still needs to poop, and Molly will likely climb back up the slide and stay there again if we stay much longer.  I stop by two stores looking for Luau party supplies for Molly's class party next week.  I pick up 12 grass skirts, some leis, tablecloths, and plates and napkins, and jump back into the car.

    We head home, both kids tell me they are sleepy.  I am hoping for a nap, but for some reason, that is just not in the cards for me today.  Colin is playing nicely in his room, but I just found Molly sitting on the floor of my room...with my shoe filled with Diet Pepsi, saying "boat" while she floats a measuring cup on a sea of diet soda.  I rescued the shoe, rinsed it out, and I have given her a very large bowl of soapy water to play with in the kitchen.  It seems to be keeping her entertained, and it could accidentally help me clean the floors before today is over, since more of the water is on the floor than in the bowl at this moment. Of course, I just managed to rescue the chocolate milk powder from being mixed into the soapy water while I was typing this post.  My child is actually a demon of chaos.  She is a devious, little imp.  An adorable imp, but devious all the same.  And this is why I believe Monkey Joe's could make a killing with a margarita machine instead of a slushie machine.  If Happy Hour started at play dates, by the time Molly had poured Diet Pepsi in my shoe, I simply wouldn't care.  Or that she just poured soapy water all over the dog's food...that wouldn't bother me either.  Sadly, I haven't even had coffee today, and the madness continues.  Luckily, we are going to a friend's house for dinner.  Not sure I have it in me to cook tonight...

Kitty Valium...

  I was reminded last night of a very funny story from a year or two ago, and I thought I would do my best to share it with you today.  My former cat, Oscar, developed a pretty severe thyroid problem and cardiac condition towards the end of his life.  It required frequent vet trips to monitor his blood levels, and adjust his medications accordingly.  He became very skinny, and lost some fur because of his condition, so it was no surprise when my other cat Jerry seemed to be losing weight suddenly and losing fur in clumps.  I simply assumed he had also developed the hyperthyroid condition.  After much internal debate, I decided to be brave and attempt a vet trip with two cats and two toddlers.  Molly was just over a year old, and Colin was very early in the potty training phase during this mission, and a trip with both cats and kids sounded like a suicide mission for all of us involved, but necessary, due to the balding cat that was wasting away before my eyes.  I grabbed the dog carrier, and decided to transport the cats both in the same crate.  All cat owners know that cats can develop extra limbs when being placed in a carrier, and then there is the added challenge of not letting out the first kitty during the placement of the second cat.  But I knew that it would be all I could handle to get in the door with the two kids and the one crate.  I arrived at the vet's office, ran the crate full of pissed off cat into the waiting room first, only to return with both children.  Molly in a stroller, and Colin toddling behind.  We wait patiently for the vet tech to call us to a room.  In the mean time, I offer the bathroom to Colin.  He refuses, and I believe him, because we are early in the potty training process.
   Dr. Blaine enters the room, and I explain that Oscar is there for his usual labs, but that I am concerned that Jerry is developing the same condition.  I explain the hair loss, lost weight, etc...all while running interference for both children.  She pulls Oscar to the back, draws his blood, and returns the first kitty to the box.  Colin and Molly are attempting to escape into the back room, run out into the lobby, and open every cabinet in the office.  I look down as Colin announces "oh no, Mommy...I pee peed."  Fabulous.  I start to change his clothes, all while trying to have a conversation with the doc.  Molly attempts another escape to the back room, right around the time the doc shares her possible diagnosis.  Dr. Blaine states "well, I actually don't think the hair is falling out.  I think he is pulling his fur out.  Perhaps the cat is feeling stressed..."  I reply, with dripping sarcasm, "what does the cat possibly have to be stressed about??"  At that very moment, I was holding Molly's arm while she was pulling in the opposite direction, yelling "kitty, kitty!!", and holding fresh pants for Colin in the other hand, all while sitting on the floor of the vet's office.  Dr. Blaine suggests "Perhaps we should help him out with some meds for his stress levels and some pheromones to help calm him down."  My response "Or maybe he can just be a little bit bald...if anyone in this house is getting meds to help with their stress level, it is going to be me, not the cat.  However, if you would like to prescribe him a little kitty Valium, I can promise you he will get at least half of the dose."  Something tells me, the doctor was not amused, and sadly, I left the office with no meds for my kitty.  However, I did survive the vets office with two cats and two toddlers, and that is saying something :)  RIP Oscar the cat.  I still miss you, and sadly this appointment was when we discovered that Jerry has some form of cancer.  He is still with us, but he is a ghost of the cat he once was.  I fear that he is not long for this world,  and I dread yet another conversation with the kids.

What was I thinking??

Things to remember when dying your hair in front of your children...
1) They want to help with everything, including icky, messy chemicals
2) They know how to open the trash can you just threw the remaining chemicals into
3) They will try to dye their beautiful blond hair reddish brown while you are not looking with those icky chemicals
4) They will point out you are naked from the waist up, and ask why
5) They may even grab a stray nipple just to be funny and because they are there
6) It is challenging to get two toddlers ready for bed while waiting for the dye to set
7) Finally, remember you are Facebook friends with your stylist Helene Lambert Oppriecht, and why you pay her to do this for you. I will be calling you in a couple of weeks, but my roots were shameful :) See you soon, Helene...

Oh Dear...

  This morning, I decided to work a little more with Molly on potty training.  Some days, she does really well, and other days, it is like she has never been on the potty in the first place.  So today, we spent the morning with  just a shirt and no pants.  I was very pleased to have her go potty twice successfully, so we continued the situation.  I was sitting on the couch, having some coffee and watching TV when a very distressed Molly came running in the room, shouting "Mommy, Mommy, Help!!"  I said to her "Molly, it's ok, what seems to be the problem?"  She turned around and lifted her shirt to show me her current situation.  I couldn't help but laugh out loud.  Stuck between her little cheeks, standing straight out, was a cardboard math flash card.  I removed the card, and she turned around to see what had assaulted her, and simply said "oh Dear..." and threw the flashcard on the floor.  Never a dull moment around here...