Silly Mom Thoughts

Today was one of those days when I realized Turk and I are good parents raising sweet children. I bask in these days because, especially around the toddler/preschool years, they seem to be few and far between.

Today, Bug didn’t nap. No biggie, he played pretty well by himself and let me finish cleaning and have some quiet time. When Bean woke up, he came running in to the room where I was.

“Mom! Whas dat noise in my ears?”

Bean made a noise from the other room. I waited a little longer, because I wanted to hear the cuteness that was coming from his mouth. Sure enough, there was more.

“Hear dat? It’s in my ears! Yee yee’s awake! Hurry!”

I lifted Bean from her Pack ‘n Play nap spot and Bug leaned in to hug her.

“I missed you, Yee yee!” he exclaimed, his arm around her. He then kissed her on the head.

She leaned into him and gave him a kiss back, and that was when my heart melted into a gooey puddle on the floor.

Later, after a good play outside, they were standing in the kitchen with me and Bean wrapped her arms around her brother’s waist. He reciprocated and kissed her on the head again. “I wuv you, Yee yee!”

I couldn’t stand it. I knelt down and wrapped them both in a gigantic hug. There was a whole lot of kissin’ and huggin’ going on in that little love circle.

Then, as if this all weren’t sweet and ooey gooey enough, Bean did another cute thing. It was her turn to get out of the bath and I asked her to stand up so I could wrap her in the towel.

“Bye bye!” she said to the bathtub and I smiled.

Then, she leaned down and kissed the water and left with a final, “Bye bye!”

Cute, right?

Dang, I love these days. It is an amazing break from the usual hitting, biting, screaming, tantruming, and lack of sharing that goes on around these parts most days of the week.

March has not been a very good month for me, and it all came to a head just a few minutes ago when my kids woke up from their naps.

Bug climbed down from his new bunk bed, opened the door, and heard Bean making noises in the room across from him where she had been napping. He opened the door and then came running to find me.

“Mommy, Yee yee stinks,” he informed me.

“She does? Did she poop?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he replied.

“Do you want to change her?”

“No! I not a baby diaper!”

(Which I took to mean, “No! That’s your job, nutso!”)

I walked down the hall and sure enough, the scent of poo came wafting into my nostrils. Not just any poo, either, the really messy kind.

I enter the room and there’s Bean, a serious look on her face, and no diaper on her butt. She is pointing at the diaper on the floor of the playpen.

“Mmboodisp!” she vehemently exclaims.

I interpret this as “You took too long to get here, so I took matters into my own hands, lady!”

Caked all over Bean’s butt, hands, face, clothes, blankets… everything is poop. Nasty, nasty poop.

I wiped her down, plopped her in the tub, and chucked everything she and I were wearing into the wash. Ew. Ew. Ew!

Still, I had to chuckle. March has not been friendly to me. (For instance, my Pregnancy Nightmares, Springing Forward, having to overhaul an entire short story, being sicker than sick for a large chunk of the month, and falling on my ass yesterday)  So, I figure this was the perfect send off to a slightly frustrating month.

On that note… April is going to rock!

My three-year-old is a sponge, soaking up anything and everything that piques his interest. Sometimes I am caught of guard by his sponginess. He will repeat something that I said, or an action that he saw, when I thought he wasn’t even paying attention. The other day, for instance, he said out of nowhere, “It’s the night before Kissmas and all tru da house, not a criture was stuw-ing, not eben a mouse!” Needless to say, I was impressed.

Sometimes, though, he soaks up things I’d rather he didn’t. Like the other morning, when I was having my 5:25am tantrum I muttered the  “S” word under my breath when I was lifting up a child safety gate. The next morning, Bug walked up to the gate, grumbled, “Sit!” and stomped off.

Bug has a little friend who loves to add words to “head.” His favorite is “poophead.” Yesterday, this friend was over and soon after he left, Bug looked at me smiling and said, “Poophead!” I realized that he was testing this new cool word out and didn’t quite understand the meaning behind it, so I told him sternly to never say that word again, or he would be in trouble. I explained that it wasn’t a nice word to call someone at all.

Later that evening, the kids were in the tub and Bug looked at Bean and yelled, “Poophead!” Honestly, I think he thought it was a funny word, something that was more silly than insulting. But, I don’t want him going around saying that, so I plucked him out of the bath, wrapped him in a towel, and sent him off to time out.

He was crushed! Bath time is the happy hour of toddlers, something they look forward to after a long day of tantrums and being waited on hand and foot. When Mama takes away bath time, she means business.

After his time out sentence was served, he came back in to the bathroom and apologized to Bean and me. I put him in PJs and we watched Bean splash around in the bath for a while and he laughed at his silly little sister. That’s when he said it.

“You’re a-” he paused, thinking, and I prayed that he was not going to say the word he just got in trouble for saying, “Silly head!”

I was so proud. He sat and thought about the words before he said them. My punishment worked. I hugged him, kissed him, praised him for thinking before he spoke. I told him “silly head” is just fine, especially since our family is full of silly heads. The rest of the night, he giggled and called his sister a “Silly head” every time she was acting like a nut.

The only problem?

With Bug’s unique speech, “Silly head” actually sounds like, “Sh!t head.”

Oh well, it’s the true meaning that counts, right?

My life is so random, why shouldn’t my blog also be? A few updates on my crew, my twins, and me.

Twins Update (or I’m So In Love With Those Heartbeats):

Yesterday, I saw my OB for the first time. How funny is that? Here, I’ve been to the doctor three times, had two ultrasounds and still haven’t actually seen my OB. Turns out, he and his wife just welcomed a baby the same time I was needing to come in, so our schedules crossed.

He sat down with me for close to an hour and simply chatted about my previous pregnancies, concerns I have, anything I want him to know. He had already thoroughly looked through my previous medical charts and explained things to me (like why I bled so severely after Bug was born) that no other doctor has taken the time to. We talked about my previous bout with postpartum depression and he said he would like to put me on antidepressants before the babies arrive so we can be proactive. I hate putting drugs into my system, but I know how awful PPD was and I have a feeling I won’t be spared this time either.

I asked when he usually delivers twins and he said he’ll let me go as long as we’re all safe and healthy, up to 39 weeks. He anticipates it will be closer to 36 weeks, since twins usually come early, but I will bet money they’ll have to be evicted around 39 weeks. (If Bug and Bean are any indication, my babies like to bake as long as possible.) So, that leaves me 29 weeks or less until we become a family of six!

He told me he usually does an ultrasound during the checkup, but since I had one recently, he didn’t feel that was necessary. I asked if we could at least try to pick up heartbeats and he said that we could certainly try. After my girly checkup and all that fun stuff, he was getting ready to leave and had totally forgotten about my heartbeat request. Bashfully, I asked, “Umm, can we please try to find the heartbeats?” my face turning all red like it always does.

He pulled out the doppler and began searching. I could hear my heartbeat loud and clear, but no babies at all. I started sweating bullets, worried that we wouldn’t find them. Soon enough, a beautiful swooshing came over the monitor. “There’s a baby!” the doctor smiled and moved the doppler around this way and that to find the other one. I remembered how difficult it was to see the other twin on the ultrasound, so I was less worried this time. But, another swooshing came over the monitor. It was so incredibly fast, I thought the doppler was picking up both babies at the same time. “Nope, that’s just one baby,” the doctor explained. Turns out, one baby’s heartbeat was around 140-150 and the other was more like 160-170.

It’s SO a boy and a girl.

Bug Update (or Potty Training Frustration):

Can someone please tell me why this kid won’t poop in the potty?! It is so dang frustrating and disgusting, to say the least. I don’t have any idea what to do to help him “get it” that it isn’t okay to poop in your pants. Ugh.

Bean Update (or Potty Prodigy):
Bean is her usual silly self. She, oddly enough, has pooped on the potty twice in the past week, despite the fact that she’s only 16 months old. I am so taking her potty training interest and running with it! I would much rather not have three in diapers come August/September.

Turk Update (or Working Hard for the Money):

Tax season is in full swing and Turk is working his booty off. He has been wonderful, helping me out when he gets home and letting me just pass out on the couch while he gets the kids ready for bed and cleans up the dishes and laundry. I don’t know how I snagged this one, but he’s a keeper.

Me Update (or Somebody Call the Waaaah-mbulance):

Though I have about one day of relief a week, I am still dealing with morning sickness and exhaustion. I’m worried that after I’m through this phase, I’m going to be ruined for ginger, ginger ale, crackers, bagels, cream cheese, and all the other stuff I have been living off of, for the rest of my life! To add to my attempt at morning sickness relief, I picked up some Preggie Pops at Babies ‘R Us. First of all, one of the flavors was Lavender. I’m sorry, but if saltine crackers are barely appealing to me, Lavender is far from appealing. Ew. Even the other flavors, though tasty, were not effective. Ah well, looks like I’ll have to keep trying new things until I’m over the morning sickness or until I find something that works.

Other than that, things are going pretty well. We have had some bumps in the road the past week, but nothing we can’t overcome. I’m so glad we have a number of months before the twins are born, so we can save up money and really be prepared. They had better not try to come super early, dog gone it. *wink*

It has been one of those days…

Today started off well. We went over to my friend’s house and Bug and Bean played with her boys. We had breakfast, went for a walk, and made lunch. The only thing that was a little annoying was that Bug, for the 4th time this week, pooped in his pants. Why he is pooping in his pants, I do not know, but I do know that it is incredibly frustrating.

Around 2pm, the kids were melting down, and it was time to go. I stepped on to the front porch, glanced at my car, and saw that one of my rear tires was flat. Sweet. I backed it into their garage where Dani and I (oh, and did I mention she’s 5 months pregnant) hoisted my car up on a jack to install the spare. Annoying, but doable. As it turned out, the spare was also flat. Double sweet.

So, I loaded my original flat tire and the spare tire into Dani’s car, and took Bean along with me too, leaving Bug to play with the boys a little longer. The idea was for Bean to nap while my tires were getting fixed. Unless you consider the minute doze-off session before we pulled into Les Schwab Tire a “nap” she didn’t get one.

Instead of napping, my lovely little Bean decided to run around Les Schwab. Not a super big deal normally, but today my body decided to doll out some awesome “morning” sickness. (I put “morning” in quotes because that’s pretty much a joke. It’s “all day” sickness, ask any pregnant woman.) So, I’m trying to keep Bean entertained, but still safe inside the tire place, while fighting the urge to vomit.

I don’t know if you’ve ever been to, or heard of Les Schwab, but they offer free popcorn and beverages while you wait. Super awesome, right? Well, not when your curious little Bean decides to pick up every single piece of popcorn dropped on the floor and try to stick it in her mouth. To make things even more challenging, these people showed up with their dog, not a seeing eye dog, mind you, just a normal ‘ol pet. Bean, being the animal lover she is, kept trying to venture over to the dog, whose owner informed me that her dog doesn’t do well with kids. Okay, understandable, and thank you for letting me know, but seriously. Why did you have to bring your damn dog in here? Argh.

Okay, an hour later, the spare is refilled and the Les Schwab guy tells me the other tire is toast, which means we have to replace all of our tires. Whatever, I just want to get home.

I head back to Dani’s, put the spare on (who says girls can’t change a flat?), and wrangle my kids up once again. Bug has pooped. In his pants. Again. I nearly lost my mind. I swiftly, and not very nicely, got him cleaned up and pants back on, though this time with no underwear because he used up the spare pair I had brought.

No big deal, I thought, we’re just going home anyway. And loaded the kids in the car.

On the drive home, I thought,  Man, I need a drink.

I’m not an alcoholic, but if you have ever raised a toddler/preschooler/any child, you know what I mean when I tell you it was “one of those days.” Obviously, in my prenatal state, I cannot divulge in a lovely Vodka Collins (heavy on the Vodka, light on the Collins). Instead, I decided to treat myself to some of my favorite foods.

First, I called the pizza place to order a garlic chicken ranch pizza. No one in the house likes it, but today I don’t give a crap.

Second, I headed to the grocery store for some sparkling apple cider and Ferrero Rocher chocolates. The drive had put my patience level a bit higher, so I told Bug he could walk next to the cart, so long as he promised to listen to me. Remember how he wasn’t wearing underwear? Yeah, so he was skipping around the grocery store, mooning anyone who happened to be behind him. Once I realized it, I made him stay in the cart.

At the checkout, the people in front of us took for freaking ever to check out. They used three different forms of payment, couldn’t find a debit card at first, had to go find it… I was about to lose my mind again. I took my pseudo-death stare off of the dumbasses in front of me, just in time to see Bug pull his pants all the way down to his ankles.

You know, because the grocery store, including the little old lady behind us, really needed to see Bug’s junk today.

Come on. Can a girl get a break here?!

I fed the kids, Turk came home, and I passed out on the couch at about 6:30 until I woke up to the kids screaming at eachother, or me, or somebody, it didn’t matter who. I changed them into their pajamas and shipped them off to bed, Turk took care of the rest.

Tomorrow will be so much better. It has to be, right?

I have come to the conclusion that my daughter hates me. Okay, maybe hate is a strong word for this situation, but she definitely prefers the company of others to my own company. Specifically, she reserves her sweet baby kisses for everyone and everything else but me. I have been testing this theory out over the last week.

Me: Bean! Can Mama have a kiss? *puckers lips and closes eyes*

Bean: *scrunches face and turns away from me*

Me (jokingly): Hey! I need a kiss! Get over here. *grabs Bean and steals kisses from her*

Bean: *squirms out of my grasp*

This was pretty funny at first, but then she started walking away from me and my pathetic kiss-stealing self and over to Daddy. She voluntarily plants a big wet one on his lips or snuggles her head on his leg. But she doesn’t stop there. Oh, no! She proceeds picking up various toys and dolls throughout the day and giving them kisses as well, and her big brother too, of course.

What am I, chopped liver?

I say all of this jokingly, and I know this is silly to say, but I’m feeling a little hurt by it. I don’t know if it’s because I’m asking for the kisses when no one else does, or if she’s just sick of hearing me and my voice all day that the last thing she wants is to pucker up and kiss me. I’m sure it’s just a phase that she’ll grow out of, much like Colby’s “I want Daddy” phase, but I can’t help but second guess myself. Is there something I’m doing wrong as a mother that makes my kids just want their dad and not me? *Sniff!*

Too bad she’s not old enough to threaten no presents from Santa. Or even, “Santa only gives presents to boys and girls who give their Mommy big fat smooches!”

I’m kidding of course.

(Sorta.)

I did find one way to get a kiss from her, though I’m a tad ashamed to admit it because it’s a bit manipulative. Bug and I were sitting on the ground, Bean was nearby. I had gone through my charade of begging for kisses, and she was again sticking her nose up to my affection.

So, I said, “Bean, look! Bug likes to give Mommy kisses.”

To which Bug exclaimed, “Yeah!” and gave me a big ‘ol smooch.

She wasn’t looking, so I said it again, and again, Bug gave me a kiss. Bean, seeing her brother kiss Mommy, ran over to me, face scrunched up, and planted a sweet, slobbery kiss right on my lips. Hey, I’ll take it any way I can get it at this point. And bonus: I got two kisses from Bug on top of Bean’s kiss. Go me.

For reference about Bean’s lack of Mommy kisses, here’s a case-in-point:

Daddy gets sweet kisses from Bean.

Big brother Bug gets smooches too.

And Mommy? Well, Mommy gets bit on the lips. Grr.

*Sigh*

I guess I’ll just have to deal with it and hope that she wants to voluntarily give me kisses again sometime. Meanwhile, I’ll keep stealing those kisses ‘cuz she’s not getting off that easy, gosh darn it.

As moms, we are complete gluttons for punishment, aren’t we? When we get a chance to go to a party and let loose, we stay up late despite the fact that our little ones will wake us up at the crack of dawn the next day. We endure mastitis, cracked and sore nipples, and thrush just to go one more day to breastfeed our baby. We clean our houses spotlessly, although we know our kids will destroy it minutes later.

Most of all, we have more kids.

Moms love this torture, I tell ya. But dang, our kids are worth it.

At the request of Ann, one of my super awesome blog followers, I’d like to give you a little insight on what to expect when you add baby #2 to the family, and how to make the transition as smooth as possible. I promise not to sugar-coat it, because really, that won’t benefit you at all, will it?

Are you ready?

You sure?

Alright then…

Let me just put this out there to begin with: Transitioning from one to two kids was one of the hardest things I have ever experienced. Here are some problems I faced, and solutions I finally figured out. I hope they help you too!

Adding Another Baby Issue # 1: Sleep When the Baby Sleeps

When you have a baby, everyone tells you, “You have to sleep when the baby sleeps.” After you have your second child, you’ll begin kicking yourself for all the times you didn’t heed this suggestion with your first. In your beyond exhausted state, you’ll wish your newborn was the one tucking you in to nap every few hours. When you mention that you’re not getting to nap much during the day, people will constantly tell you, “Well, you’ll just have to get your two kids on the same schedule, then!” Seriously? Has anyone actually tried convincing a newborn to stay awake? It’s difficult. No, scratch that. It’s impossible.

Solution:

When the newborn goes down for a nap, put yourself and your older child in a child-safe room (preferably one with a TV). Whether it’s the living room and you have gated off the hallway, or in your bedroom and you have locked the door and/or gated the door, park yourselves in the room. Supply your older child with their favorite toys and plenty of movies. Fall asleep. I won’t guarantee that it will be a relaxing sleep, because your older child will probably bug you to put the arm back on a doll or change the movie every 20 minutes, but it will be something. Take whatever sleep you can get. (Just make sure the room is safe and your little one can’t escape!) Oh, and be prepared to wake up to a super messy room.

Adding Another Baby Issue #2: Establishing a Routine

Remember when you had your first child and you felt like it was difficult getting into a routine? Yeah, so, it’s worse with two. What makes it even more difficult, is that while your older child’s routine doesn’t change drastically from week to week, a newborn’s does.

Solution:

For the sake of your older child, stick to at least part of their normal routine after the first couple of weeks. The fact is, that your routine will change with your new baby and never be the same again. Maintaining some semblance of the old routine will help immensely, even if it includes you in pajamas all week long. Don’t stress too much about a stringent routine, however (unless you have to). Once your newborn reaches about 3 months old or so, you’ll be in a fairly consistent routine without much effort.

Adding Another Baby Issue #3: Taking a Shower

Ahh, the little things in life, like brushing your teeth and showering, seem to get pushed aside when you add another baby to your family. It is difficult finding a way to shower when you have two kids to worry about. I know many moms who, when they had their second child, didn’t shower until their husbands came home from work, and by then, they were so tired they often fell asleep instead!

Solution:

Don’t give up sleep to take a shower, if you can help it! Park your newborn in a bouncy seat or other type of baby seat and sit them next to the shower. (Bonus: If they’re suffering from a stuffy nose (and all newborns seem to have some nasal issues), the steam from the shower may help clear up their nose!) Do this while your older child naps, or while they’re safely in another room. Or, bring your older child into the shower with you. (Bug hated the shower until I tried this with him when Bean was a newborn. I told him it was raining in the bathtub and he thought it was the coolest thing ever.)

Adding Another Baby Issue #4: Making Your Older Child Feel Loved

This was such a huge issue for us, as it is for any parent adding a sibling to rock their older child’s world. You don’t want your child to feel left out or replaced, but you also want to spend lots of time snuggling with your newborn. Fortunately, you can do both, and do them well.

Solution:

We started doing little things to include Bug well before Bean was born. We let him help put her crib together, I let him “feed” my belly button to give her some food, we let him put diapers on his teddy bears, etc. After she was born, Turk stayed home for a week, which was awesome. He spent lots of good quality time with me, the grandparents, and friends. Your older child doesn’t necessarily want toys and things to feel love, they want you, and they want to feel included. Don’t freak out every time they come near the baby. Instead, make it a point to include them in baby things. Let them kiss the baby, hold the baby (with your help of course), have them hand you wipes when you change the baby. Remind your older child how important they are as the big brother/sister and how appreciative you are for them help. And make a big deal out of it any time they try to help (even if it isn’t really that helpful and creates more of a mess), “Oh my goodness, honey, I could not have done this without your help, thank you so much!”Look for ways they can help you too, like putting laundry in the basket or throwing diapers away. If they aren’t in the mood to help, don’t push the subject.

Adding Another Baby Issue #5: Dealing With Sibling Jealousy

I was terrified that Bug was going to be jealous of Bean and try to show his jealousy through hitting or acting out. Sure enough, immediately after we brought Bean home, he started acting nuts. No, I take that back, he started acting nuts while we were still in the hospital. My guess is that it was a mix of excitement and jealousy over this new little person who was taking everyone’s attention, but Bug acted like I had never seen him act before. He was screaming, running, and not listening. He was aggressive and defiant. He was a handful. The thing I didn’t expect was that he was mean to me, not to Bean. He hit me, he spat at me, for a time, he acted like I was the worst person he had ever met. It made me so sad.

Solution:

The most important thing we did in dealing with sibling jealousy was to recognize that his actions were directly a result of Bean’s birth. While he did go to timeout for things that required timeouts, and he was scolded for other actions, we were slightly more lenient on him (both from sleep deprivation and because we understood how he was feeling). To deal with his jealousy, we spent more time with him. I made a concerted effort to spend one-on-one time with Bug while someone else took care of Bean. My dad stayed with us off and on for a couple of weeks to help out, and the time he spent taking Bug to McDonald’s or the Children’s Museum helped immensely as well. Turk would get home from work, say hello and kiss Bean and me, and grab Bug to wrestle with him, one of Bug’s favorite Daddy games. In the end, the jealousy only lasted a few weeks before he got over it.

Adding Another Baby Issue #6: Your Marriage

I don’t know if this happened with anyone else, but after Turk and I had Bug, we had a while where our relationship was a bit strained. Not that we ever spoke the “D” word, but we found ourselves bickering and arguing over the dumbest things, mostly related to parenting and taking care of our new baby. This, along with me not wanting him to touch me, let alone have sex, led to some unexpected tension between us. Your marriage still isn’t baby proof when #2 comes along, but fortunately, the adjustment will be easier.

Solution:

Talk, talk, talk. Tell your spouse how you’re feeling, if you’re stressed, if you think you might have PPD or the Baby Blues. Tell him that you still love him so much, even if you don’t quite feel up to having sex yet. Tell him what you need from him, don’t make him guess. Say, “Honey, I know you want to do other things with me, but it would make me feel so wonderful if you could just massage my shoulders,” or “Babe, I know you’re probably tired from work, but I have had a very difficult day with the baby and dealing with tantrums, is there any way you could do a load of laundry and the dishes?” Plan dates, even if it means popcorn, a movie, and a glass of wine after the kids are asleep. Just don’t neglect your marriage. Here are some other tips on how to Bring Back the Romance After Your Baby Arrives.

Things to remember after your baby arrives:

• It will take time to adjust to your new life.
• It’s okay if you aren’t head-over-heels for your newborn… you will be once you get to know each other.
• If you feel like you have PPD, seek help. Your doctor is not going to take your baby away or call you a bad mom. (Don’t wait until your baby is 8 months old, like I did.)
• Don’t worry about your older child’s TV time. They’re going to watch too much TV for a while, and that’s okay.
• Don’t worry about making gourmet healthy meals. So long as you’re all fed, pizza, takeout, and grilled cheese sandwiches are A.O.K.
• Give yourself a break. It is difficult parenting more than one child. Call or email a friend who can sympathize, and vent your little heart out.
• You are NOT alone. Write “I am not alone” on a sticky note above the coffee maker, on your calendar, tattoo it on your hand, but always remind yourself that you are not alone.

***

The magic month for me was around month five after Bean was born. Suddenly, I was able to get the kids on the same nap schedule. Suddenly, Bean wasn’t so tiny and fragile and Bug could interact with her more. Suddenly, I felt like a human again. It was glorious.

I hope I didn’t scare anyone off with these things that may happen when you add another baby to your family. The truth is, that while the first few months kinda suck, the older the kids get, the more I am immensely grateful that Bug and Bean have each other. Watching them grow up together has been such an incredible blessing. They are constantly kissing each other, tickling each other, laughing, hugging, and wrestling. Sure, they get into some arguments over toys or space on Mommy’s lap, but these things are normal, and very temporary. When Bug hands Bean his last cracker and says, “Here, I share!” or when Bean snuggles her head into her brother’s shoulder when she’s sleepy, I cannot imagine life with out my beautiful children.

Congrats to your new addition, and when things get rough, just remember, “This too shall pass.” One day, we’re going to be 80 years old, sitting on rocking chairs with our great-grand babies in our laps saying, “Oh, I miss those crazy days when my kids were babies.”

Allow me to preface this by saying, aside from moving on in the finals for the writing contest, this week is not going very awesome. The next person who complains to me that the twos are terrible, needs to take a few minutes and borrow my three-year-old ‘cuz I can tell you three is so much worse.

Today, I cleaned my little tail-feather off. I packed up clothes that the kids have grown out of, and pulled out clothes that have been handed down to us and fit them now. I organized toys and got rid of anything that was broken or would be good to go to charity. I organized all of the toys into three bins: one for blocks, one for cars and trains, and one for random other toys. Books were placed back on shelves.

I just put the kids in their respective napping rooms a little while ago. Not twenty minutes into “nap” time and I hear the familiar sound of blocks being poured out of the first bin. Then the cars, then the toys.

Tell me, exactly, what the heck is the point in ever cleaning and organizing when you have kids?

It’s not just toys either. Take the kitchen floor, for instance. I sweep it, I scrub it, and it looks awesome. One messy meal later (and to Bean, the sloppiest eater I have ever met, every meal is a messy meal), and the floor looks like something out of one of Oprah’s “Oh My Gosh, Look How Awfully Messy This Person’s House Is” specials.

Don’t even get me started on what it’s like to clean while kids are home…

Too late, I already got me started.

While I was cleaning my butt off today, organizing toys that would be spilled everywhere a short period of time later, my kids were in the living room, destroying it. I came out to find the couch cushions off, the couch pushed up against the wall the wrong direction, and popcorn strewn all over the place. A DVD was placed in the windowsill and chopsticks lay strewn about. (Yes, chopsticks.) When the kids got bored with wreaking havoc on the living room and wanted to know what Mommy was up to, they came back and started taking toys out of the bins I was putting them into.

Can someone tell me why a toy, that is never played with, is suddenly interesting when it is being put away or given to charity?

Bargh.

Frustrating, I tell ya. Frustrating. This is a big huge case in point why I don’t bother chasing my kids around and cleaning up after them all day. I’m pretty sure if I did that, I’d damn near go insane. Hats off to other moms that have the patience for keeping their houses spotlessly clean, though. I am truly amazed by you!

Can I tell ya how awesome today is going? (Oh, how badly I wish you could read the sarcasm in that sentence.)

Bean has learned a new word today! Gone are the cute words like, “Mama,” “Dada,” and “Uh oh.” Today, Bean began saying the word, “No.” As a result, everything to Bean today is “No.”

For example:

“Hi Beany Baby, how are you?”

“No.”

Or:

“Lets eat some yummy macaroni and cheese, Bean! Your favorite. Mmmm.”

“Noooo.”

Or how about:

“Bean, does Mama have to do anything today, like laundry or dishes or clean?”

“Nooooooooo!”

That’s my girl.

What’s funny is that she has yet to use the word “No” in the correct context. She’ll say no to eating, and commence scarfing down her lunch. I’ll ask her if she wants to be held and she’ll say no, while her hands are in the air reaching for me. She’s a tad confused.

Bean isn’t the only one to learn a new word today.

I was moving a shelving unit from one room to the next and I managed to drop something and nearly smack myself in the head with it (I do not need any more head injuries, thank you). Under my breath, I muttered, “Sh*t.” Two seconds later, Bug stamps his foot down and retorts, “Sit!” but I knew he meant the word I just said. These kids have superhuman hearing capabilities, I tell ya.

So class, your new words are No and Sh*t. Be sure to run home and tell your Mommy and Daddy exactly what you learned from Ms. Lindsay today!

*Sigh*

Some awful demon has possessed my sweet little Bean. One minute she’s cute, squishy-nosed and laughing. The next minute, she’s a raging lunatic. God forbid you say “No” to her or take something away that she cannot have. The moment you commit such a foul crime against Her Toddlerness, her head spins in a circle and she dramatically throws herself to the ground. Unfortunately that is not the brunt of her wrath. After whacking her head on the ground during the course of her tantrum and growing even more angry from her self-inflicted injury, she stands up and spits at you. All the while, she’s screaming like a pissed off abominable snowman, arms flailing in attempt to hit you. (And not that cute abominable snowman from that claymation Christmas movie either. A really mean, ugly abominable snowman with razor sharp teeth and knife-like fingernails sharp enough to gouge your eyes out.)

Don’t believe me? Watch how Bean goes from kissy face to flipping out in just a matter of seconds:

Note: You need to have Flash installed to view the video!

Unfortunately, Bean isn’t the only one who has morphed into a terrifying, un-cute version of herself. Suddenly Bug has decided to jump on the bandwagon. Simple things, like “Please clean up your toys,” or “Don’t pick your sister up by her neck,” will turn him from silly preschool boy to ultra hormonal teenager in three seconds flat. My usually cooperative super-helper suddenly says things such as, “NO mama!” or “I CAN’T do it, NO!” To top it off, each statement is followed by mumbling in some other language. “NO mama! Mrrbsiiwsttsus.” (I don’t even want to know what that means, but I somehow get the feeling that he’s putting a curse on me.) And, while Bug has learned his lesson that hitting is not okay (unlike his abominable snowman sister), he still takes an air swipe every now and then.

At the very least, I can blame Bean’s behavior on the Wonder Weeks. If you are a mom of a baby or toddler and haven’t heard of the Wonder Weeks, you absolutely must check out that link. Basically, it tells how kids go through a cycle of fussy weeks where they’re about to achieve some developmental or physical milestone. It makes them all crabby and pissed off, like my own mini-teenagers. If nothing else, the idea that my kids’ behavior could be blamed on something other than them being possessed by otherworldly creatures, gives me piece of mind.

Next week, I tell myself, Next week will be better… right?