Rotisserie duck anyone??

   Today was a fairly normal day that started with a "Make New Friends" play date at the preschool.  As predicted, we all had difficulty getting out of bed.  Without fail, my son has been out of bed between 7:15 and 7:30 in the morning all summer long.  Of course, on the first day we need to be awake early, both children are sleeping soundly, and I foolishly turn off my alarm.  I knew we would be late, but I hate trying to get all three of us ready in 30 minutes or less.  As usual, the children can sense my urgency, and they attempt to make my life more difficult.  There is nothing worse than a 3 year old girl who is refusing to let you brush her hair or to get dressed. As we load into the car approximately 30 minutes later than I planned, I notice Molly's pigtails are completely crooked, Colin is requesting breakfast, and I have yet to make any coffee.  Things are not going smoothly, but sadly, we are right at par for the course.  We hit the road, and arrive at the preschool about 10 minutes late.  I suppose this was no surprise to Molly's teacher since she taught Colin last year.  That crazy Mrs. Bryan...she is never on time.  Oh well, we made it.  Both children enjoyed seeing their new classrooms and meeting their new teachers.  Colin wanted to go home, and of course, Molly wanted to stay and play on the playground.  It seems that they can never agree on anything these days.  I think they just enjoy making that vein in my forehead start to pulse.


   We returned home after a quick run on the playground for Molly, during which Colin sat and pouted the entire time.  That kid is stubborn.  God forbid he accidentally have fun outside on a play ground...Back home to do the normal stuff.  The normal stuff being a couple of loads of laundry, a load of dishes, and praying that the children fall into a coma for a few hours so that I can actually get some things accomplished around the house(aka sleep for a few hours as well.)  I quickly realize the nap is not going to happen, so I make a pot of coffee, and start texting for afternoon play dates.  We need to get out of this house if we are all going to survive this afternoon.  I make some plans for a picnic at a park, and we head to Costco for 36 croissants that I need for a bridal shower in the morning.  While at Costco, I pick up a pair of blue jeans.  I check the size, and throw in a size 10.  Should fit just fine...off to the bakery, and out the door for our picnic.

    We pull into Laurel park.  The place is packed.  In fact it is busier than I have ever seen it, but no turning back now.  I grab some veggie straws and chocolate chip cookies, my contributions to the picnic, and we head over to meet our friends.  I am still in a cute little skirt and white blouse from our preschool engagement, and Molly is in a sundress as well.  We are not really dressed for a picnic and playground play time.  As we sit down to eat some food, the kids immediately gravitate to the pond to find the ducks and geese.  Tracy has thought to bring stale cereal for the geese.  We ate our last meal completely surrounded by ducks and geese.  They were hungry and persistent.  Today, the water fowl were sparse, but we sent the kids down with cups of cereal all the same.  The ducks chose to ignore the kids.  This frustrated Molly, well, perhaps angered Molly would be a better description.  Molly grabbed a large stick and started to splash in the pond.  Next thing I knew, I watched Molly poke a duck in the butt with her stick.  The duck took off as I was rushing down to scold my daughter.  I took away her stick, and told her to leave the duckies alone.  She said "ok..."  in her sweet little toddler voice.  I came back up to our table and announced that perhaps rotisserie duck was on the menu for the evening as I explained how my daughter nearly skewered a duck.


   The children continued to play at the water's edge, and the ducks continued to hide.  Colin and Molly got bored without any waterfowl to harass, so they started a new mission.  Colin decided to climb a tree that hangs over the pond.  My first thought was "oh, he won't go far, I am sure he will come right back down."  My second thought was "Ok...maybe not."  And my third thought, "How am I going to climb that tree in front of a park full of people in a skirt?"  Suffice it to say, he eventually admitted he was stuck, and I sucked it up, and climbed a tree in cute sandals and a fluffy skirt.  Molly giggled the entire time.  Tracy had taken her girls for a potty break, and returned just in time to see my butt halfway up a tree, dangling over the water.  When I got my feet on solid ground, she was shaking her head, and laughing.  At least she couldn't find her phone fast enough to take a picture.  And trust me, she admitted to looking for her phone.  I am sure there is some unwritten rule in the mommy handbook that states "Thou shalt not provide any photographic evidence of another mommy making an ass out of herself climbing a tree in a skirt."  Or, at least, there should be something similar on the books somewhere...


   By the time we arrived home, we were filthy.  I greeted my husband with a simple "Hello, we need showers, we are all covered in goose poop..."  I can only imagine that was not the greeting he was expecting, but to his credit, he simply offered to start a bath for the kids, and he asked very few questions about the goose excrement.  I love that man.  He even offered me a glass of wine as I described the duck incident.  I suppose, if nothing else, there is never a dull moment while I am around.


PS...I just tried on the jeans...they are way too tight.  I am never eating again.  I suppose I will return them in the morning.  Between all of the vacations and family emergencies, this summer has not gone as I planned.  I was hoping to be skinny, in great shape, running at least five miles, and spend most of my days at the pool with the kids.  Alas, life has gotten in the way, and now those evil jeans I picked up on impulse don't fit.  How dare they make their size 10 so small??  Denial ain't just a river in Egypt.  Meanwhile, I am going to attempt to put the food down yet again.  Why does it have to be so hard??

Wisdom from the Colin Bear :)

My son is forever surprising me with his little bits of wisdom.  So here are a few I would like to share :)


While in the car, at a stop light, waiting to turn left.  The car behind us honks.
Colin (Turning around to see the car behind us) "Hey...We are at a traffic light, you need to take turns.  It is not your turn yet."


To the cashier at Publix...
Colin  "Diarrhea comes out very fast..."
Cashier "Really?  Is that so?"


While staring at himself in the mirror
Colin  "Mommy, my hair is getting poofy.  I think I need a haircut."


After I have been paged to the kid's area of the gym...
Colin "Mommy, Molly stinks.  I think she pooped in her pants."
Me "Thanks buddy, let's go change her."
Colin (While watching the process) "Oh...I think Molly had corn last night."


After stopping for Molly to pee, yet again...
Colin  "Mommy, we need to teach Molly how to pee pee on trees."


While I am in Pensacola, visiting my family...
Colin  "Mommy, have you started driving home yet?"
Me  "No bud, I am still visiting with your grandpas and your Uncle Alan."
Colin  "You have a very long drive, you need to start driving."

Mommy, I need a spoon...

   Mommy, I need a spoon...This seems like such a simple request, and I chose to believe that while prepping two dishes for a dear friend's bridal shower this evening.  This is where I went wrong.  The phrase should have struck fear in my heart, or at least alerted me to some trouble brewing on the home front.  Little did I know while I was happily preparing spinach dip and pasta salad, my sweet daughter had found yet another way to horrify me...


    I was standing at the counter, creating a bread bowl for my spinach dip, when my innocent little 3 y/o comes running into the kitchen, and simply announces, "Mommy, I need a spoon."  She is of course already in the process of procuring said spoon, and I initially seem to think this a benign request.  She runs off in the direction of her room, and I smile.  Look at my sweet girl.  She must be playing kitchen in her room, while I am cooking in the actual kitchen.  How cute is that?  Of course, after I completed my food prep, I started to wonder and search for my daughter. This is Molly of course...Why does she need a spoon?  She isn't eating anything, and sadly, she is not standing in front of her play kitchen like I was picturing and hoping.  So I continue my search.  I call out her name, and there is no response.  This is a very bad sign.


     I made it all the way into my room, call her name again, and I hear a slightly muffled response.  "Nothing Mommy..."  What does nothing mean?  It can't possibly be anything good.  As I turn the corner into my bathroom, I am horrified to find my daughter "play cooking" alright.  She is elbow deep in the cat litter box.  she has poured the cat's water, his wet food, and his dry food all into the litter.  She is stirring her mixture proudly, and stares up at me with her sweet little blue eyes, as if to say "What's wrong Mommy?"  As I suppress the need to vomit, I grab my daughter out of her fabulous amalgamation of grossness, and I toss her into the shower.  In case you were wondering, canned cat food, water, and cat litter make something very similar to concrete when they are mixed together.

   
     The mess has been contained, my daughter has been bathed, but I am still wondering if there is a way to bathe her completely in hand sanitizer and Lysol.  The cat is just wondering what happened to his bathroom and his food.  Molly, Molly, Molly....what am I going to do with you??

I am very important...

Colin asking to play Wii earlier today...
Colin "Mommy, can I play a game on the Wii?"
Me "I told you we might play some games later when your friends come over. Let's save it for then. You have to be patient sometimes bud."
Colin "Awwww, mommy. I want to play now. I am very important."
Me "huh??"
Colin "You know, I want to play now."
Me "Oh, I think you mean impatient little dude. That means you don't want to wait."
Colin "Oh yeah, impatient. Am I important too?"
Me "Yep, you are always important to me. And many very important people are impatient as well. You will learn that when you get older."

Mommy needs a time out...

   Today, my fabulous friend Anne came over to clean.  For a few brief hours, before the children destroy all of her hard work, I have a few blissful moments of a clean, fresh smelling home.  While she was cleaning, I took the kids to Monkey Joes.  We enjoyed a horrible lunch of nachos with gelatinous cheese and a soft pretzel.  The children played, mommy played Scramble with Friends.  A good/mediocre time was had by all.  At least until I realized that Molly had been inside the obstacle course way too long.  Upon climbing inside, I discovered she had indeed pooped in her underwear...yet again.  I refuse to let this get me down.  I pull her to the bathroom, change her clothes, throw the dirty clothes in a biohazard bag, and beg her to at least pee on the potty.  She refuses, multiple times.  I hold my ground, and insist on her at least attempting to pee before we go back out to play.  In the mean time, Colin climbs under the stall.  No doubt he was wondering what had happened to both of us.  Out of desperation, I ask Colin to show his sister how to go pee pee in the big potty like a big kid.  As he starts his demonstration, I see how my plan is going horribly wrong.  Hmmm...he does a fabulous job of showing her how a little boy pees in the potty.  Oddly enough, this seems to do the trick.  Molly agrees to hop up on the potty, and she tinkles right away.  In my mind, I could already see how that could have gone wrong.  I am pleased Molly did not try to urinate standing up.  Small win for the mommy.


   We reenter the play area, and the kids play for another thirty minutes or so.  I announce it is time to go, and surprisingly enough, both children come with me relatively easily.  By this, I mean I carried Molly out on my hip, and dragged Colin out by his arm.  We got home just in time for Anne to be finished.  The floors are clean, the carpet vacuumed, the bathrooms no longer smell like urine...Ahhh...Now to make dinner.  I throw some pasta on the stove, cook some broccoli, and mix it all together with some alfredo sauce.  Tada!!!  Instant dinner.  The kids and I sit down for a quick meal as I try to catch up on the Olympic medal count for the USA.  I look over, realize it is 7 PM, and my heart does a small dance of joy.  The kids are playing quietly together in the living room, and I head to our clean bathroom to start their bath.


    Some where about halfway through drawing the bubble bath, I decide it looks quite inviting.  It has been ages since I sat in a bath and soaked.  I have been resigned to the reality of 5 minute "mommy showers" for years now.  As I make the decision to slide into the bath myself, I decide to go and grab one of the pumpkin beers out of the fridge.  I pop the top, turn on Dora for the kids, and slip into the sudsy water.  I submerge myself completely.  All I can hear is the nothingness of the bubbles popping in my ears.  My eyes are closed, and I sit up a little to sip my beer.  Ahhhh, this is nice...


   And then my son pops through the door.  I sit up a little more, and address my son's presence...not that they ever need a reason to stare at me while I am in the bathroom.

Me  "Hey Colin, what's up?"
Colin  "Guess what?!?" (in a very excited voice)
Me  "What?"
Colin  "Guess what happened with my underwears!"
Me  "Oh no...what happened with your underwears?"
Colin  (very excited still) "I had diarrhea come out."
Me  "Seriously...(sip my beer) OK bud, lets take off your clothes, very carefully"
 

    I realize I have just lost my bubble bath to my son who is much greater need.  As I exit the tub, I have to laugh at the fact that I even thought I would get enough time to myself to enjoy a bath.  I mean, what are the chances of avoiding handling toddler excrement twice in one day.  Apparently, not very good.  At least I still have the beer :)