So, let me get this straight...

   I think this will be best illustrated with pictures...

Giant, creepy looking Bunny, OK with Molly.  In fact, she called him cute.

Nice old man with candy and promises of gifts, not cool at all.

    I am sure I don't have to explain to you which one would concern me if I were a child.  But we all know Molly marches to the beat of her own drummer.  I was worried about taking them for bunny pictures for a couple of reasons. The first one being that I figured Molly would be scared out of her mind.  The second reason was that I am fully convinced that someone has been slipping my children "speed" behind my back over the past week.  They have been positively vibrating out of their skin.  To say they have been challenging this week would be an understatement.  To whomever has been slipping them the drugs...you may stop now.  While I am sure that it is amusing to watch me struggle, I am quickly losing my sense of humor with the situation.  Or you could at least have the courtesy to slip me a Xanax as well...

   So Sandra and I decided to hit the mall after school for lunch and an attempt at pictures with the giant bunny.  I warned Sandra that the kids were in rare form, but it seemed like it was a better idea than watching them bounce off the walls at home. I should have known that the fact that I actually "lost" Molly in the preschool before we ever left the building was a bad sign.  Sadly, she is getting much better at Hide and Seek. We enter the mall food court, and Sandra can tell right away that Molly is in her own little world.  I spend the entire time reseating Molly, putting her in timeout, shaking my head, and attempting to get both children to eat something.  We finally leave the food court, and I stop for a refill at Chick fil a.  I have a child pulling on both arms, I am dropping my bag off my shoulder, and trying my best to put the lid back on my beverage.  I asked the guy behind the counter if they had any rum in the back.  He of course responded "Only on Sundays Ma'am."  I smiled, and walked away, hoping I hadn't offended the nice employee of the very Christian restaurant.

    Of course, both children messed up their shirts before the pictures, so we had to run into Crazy 8 and pick up a new polo for Colin.  I was able to salvage Molly's with a baby wipe and a little extra effort.  As we are making our way to the bunny, and Sandra observes me chase Molly down yet again, she says "You know, I wouldn't judge you if you drugged them with some benadryl today."  I of course snap back with "I am thinking a crushed Percocet or a Valium in their juice, you are being generous."  Thank God for friends(and readers) that realize when you are joking.  

   While waiting for our turn with the Bunny, Sandra mentions how all of the chocolate, cookies, and ice cream are taunting her.  I laugh and add "That is what is taunting you??   The waistband of my jeans is taunting me."  Needless to say, I am yet again struggling with my weight.  It just keeps packing on, and I can't get motivated to do anything but complain about it.  As you can see, the photos with the bunny went well.  Molly thought he was both cute and fuzzy.  She still stands by the fact that Santa in scary.  Of course, picking out the photos after the fact became very challenging.  Molly pressed buttons on their computers, Colin hit something while she was attempting to make my photo CD, both children picked up every piece of paper they could get their hands on.  I tried to keep my cool while picking my three poses.  As I start to pay the sales girl asks if I would like to donate a dollar to "save the children."  I tell her "Sure, but will that cover saving my own children?? Because they are the ones that are going to need some help..."  Sandra just smiles and shakes her head.

   As I tried to make a relatively graceful exit from the premises, I spot a Starbucks, wishing they served coffee drinks complete with a little liquor to take the edge off of the rest of the day.  I miss my stroller.  Sure it was bulky, heavy, and kind of a pain to steer, but 5 point restraints are a gift straight from God to mommies.  I escaped with both of my whirling dervishes/Tazmanian devils trailing behind me.  Mommy mission complete.  Children are fed, children have played at mall playground, adorable pictures with bunny complete.  I suppose the day is a win.  Even if I required 800 mg Motrin, 50 mg of Benadryl, a giant rum and coke, and a back rub just to get to sleep.  A day in the life of Heidi...exhausting, but I wouldn't trade it for anything.  Well...maybe it would be nice if Molly stopped moving at some point during the day besides when she sleeps.  

   

Adventures with Molly this week...

    As if I needed any more reasons to be self conscious about my body, Molly decided to give me yet another one to ponder.  After getting out of the shower, I was standing in my room looking for some jammies to put on my naked body.  Molly walked up behind me, and started beating on my bottom like it was a set of tom-tom drums.  I was more than a little horrified, but I decided to ask her what she was doing.

Me "Molly, what are you doing??"

Molly "Drums!!"

Me "Molly, that is my bottom, not a drum.  Do you mind?"

Molly "Drums!!!"

Me "Molly...Why are you hitting mommy's bottom?"

Molly "(giggling the whole time) Because it is all wiggly...(giggles some more)"

Me "Well...could you please stop hitting my bottom, it isn't very nice.  It kind of makes Mommy sad."

Molly "Awwww...OK" (walks away with a sad face)

   Of course, last night, I made the mistake of removing the pads from my bra in front of her.  They were extra, and getting on my nerves.  No one in my cup size should need pads the size of throw pillows inside their bra...anyway, she was fascinated.  I placed the pads on the dresser, and she quickly asked, "Mommy, what are Those???(with a tone of awe that can not be conveyed in words alone).  I replied, "Well, I guess they are pillows for mommy's boobies."  I really didn't have a good explanation.  I suppose she will understand one day.  I left the room for a quick trip to the bathroom.  I returned to find my daughter shoving the pads into her T-shirt.  She was giggling, and squishing them together under the fabric.  She was very sad they wouldn't stay under her shirt.  I couldn't help but laugh.

  Finally, as we walked around the grocery store last night, I gave Molly my phone to entertain her for a few minutes.  She is difficult to keep happy in "baby lockdown."  You know, any sort of restraining device...So while she is in the cart, she needs distraction so that she doesn't demand to get down and "help."  Her "help" is always trouble in a store.  Anyway, she was playing games for a little while, and then she switched over to the camera for entertainment.  I was busy attempting to remember what we needed from the store while she was busy snapping pictures.  We had made it to the frozen foods section, when we had our first complaint about the pictures she was taking.  Molly snapped a photo of a man walking by.  He stopped, and felt the need to make a sarcastic comment.

Man "I think she just took my picture..."
Me (unsure if he wants me to apologize) "Ummm, sorry.  She might have."
Man "I suppose it is a good thing I am not in the witness protection program..."
Me (shrugging my shoulders) "Just be glad you weren't naked after your shower like I was the other day when she was taking photos...If it makes you feel any better, I removed the auto upload feature after that incident."
Man (shakes head and walks away)

   He obviously does not have small children...Thank God she is so stinkin adorable :)

Poor girl...and so it begins :)

   Today, while I was picking up the kids at school, Colin told me about a new boy in his "grade."  The boy may not be new, he may just be new to Colin.  He started telling me that now I needed to meet both boys.  He has recently been talking about one little boy in his class that he wants to invite over to play.  We will call him "James."  I am excited that he is making friends, and I want to try and make it happen.  So I start asking about the new little boy he is mentioning. For the purpose of the story, I will call him "Bob." I don't know the little boys, or their mothers, so I would hate to use actual names for fear of offending anyone. Our conversation went something like this...

Colin "Mommy, I want you to meet Bob.  He is in my grade.  And you still need to meet James and his mommy."
Me  "OK, is Bob new?  I haven't heard that name before."
Colin "Yeah...but I don't want him to talk to Molly."
Me  "OK bud, why not?  Did he say something to Molly that you didn't like"
Colin "No...I just don't want Molly to answer him."
Me "Did he ask Molly a question?? Did he say something mean to her??"
Colin  "No, I just think you need to meet him.  He is in my grade.  He shouldn't be talking to Molly.  Molly should only talk to boys who are three."
Me  "OK...What happened Colin?  Is he nice? Is he a new friend?  Do you want him to come over and play too?"
Colin  "Well, I just didn't like the way he looked at Molly. He should talk to big kids, not Molly."
Me "I see...You know, Molly can talk to kids who are 4 and 5 as well.  She has friends who are different ages.  Like Jack and Lila.  They are different ages.  It is OK.  Molly might have friends sometimes that are in different grades."
Colin "Yeah...not Bob though.  He shouldn't talk to her..."

   I have no idea what happened on the play ground today.  I am sure it was completely harmless, but it sure made me giggle.  Poor Molly has a long road ahead of her.  Apparently Colin is already overprotective, and he is only 5.  She may never get to date, especially if that guy is in Colin's "grade."  Glad to know that Mike and I have back up when it comes to that time.

tiny pole dancers??

Ok...forgive the blurry photo.  But is it just me, or does this picture just seem wrong on so many levels.  I suppose I should be glad that the only child in focus is my own.  It made me laugh every time a kid climbed on to play.  Start them early :)  Who needs a college fund when they can practice pole dancing in preschool??