SILENCE. Finally. Both boys are asleep and I'm sitting on my duff doing absolutely nothing because I'm too scared I'll make noise and wake them up. Today must be Crab Day because both boys are whinier than a grown man with a hangnail. They're still fighting their colds and I got a peek into Beckett's mouth earlier and it looks like tooth #7 has made its debut. I'm hoping #8 follows quickly behind so we can be done with this teething business for awhile.

As for Sawyer, who knew starting the wrong Dora episode was grounds for a toddler-induced F5 tornado. 'Nuff said.

So instead of cleaning the house like I should be, I'm putzing around on Flickr looking at tattoos. Because does anyone remember what tonight is? Sawyer's Tree! I'm getting pumped. And after the day I've had, it will definitely be a good hurt under the needle and AWAY from the house for a few hours.

Umm, yeah, Beckett just woke up. Already. So I'm cutting this short, but I have to share these:

Food tattoos. They intrique me. Especially the cupcakes. Seriously, how cute are those?!


1. Yummy, 2. fruit, 3. keep sweet, 4. lucky cat w/ sushi, 5. corn, 6. P1010022, 7. Cherry Tattoo, 8. cupcake, 9. Candy Apple
Created with fd's Flickr Toys.

And my new obsession: sewing tattoos! I've been trying to get ideas for my quilt tattoo and I found these.


1. sewing machine tattoo, 2. pincushion tattoo, 3. my sewing machine tattoo, 4. my new tattoo, done by Julian at Rising Sun, 5. sewing machine, 6. Picture 267, 7. blue sewing machine?!, 8. stork scissors!, 9. thread and needle
Created with fd's Flickr Toys.

Corn syrup.

And I'm not talking about in your child's food. I'm talking about in your carpet.

Do you ever compose blog posts in your head before you actually type them? That's what I was doing while mopping a foot-wide puddle of Karo from my linoleum and contemplating how in the world to get the circular swirls of it out of my carpet.

My first instinct was vinegar, which I soaked on it and then wiped up and it's not near as sticky now. My whole house is going to smell like a pickle. I already had the vinegar out yesterday when Sawyer thought it would be fun to take off his turd-filled diaper and then sit bare-butt on the carpet. Yes, we're working on the potty.

I swear, this child could start World War III in five minutes with the way he's able to destroy my house in the times it takes me to pee or get Beckett from his room. I know how my night will be spent: borrowing my parents' steam cleaner and installing a lock on the pantry, which I thought about months ago and should have already done.

And in typical Sawyer fashion, there always has to be a finale: today it was peeing on the floor after I got him out of the bath tub in the 2.5 seconds it took me to find a diaper.

Cages. A good thing sometimes. (Kidding, of course, which I have to say or I'll worry that someone will read my blog and think I'm inhumane and crate my kids like puppies.)

In all seriousness, the kid is not neglected. He's just really good at causing chaos in no time flat. Ask my DH about the time he emptied a whole bottle of Windex onto the couch when they were in the SAME room together. I kid you not. This child is a master at watching for a turned back. And I think it makes us look like inattentive parents but anyone with a toddler knows how quickly it can happen. I'm just glad he's not one of those that likes to climb on top of the TV and attempt to fly. Yeah, I think I'll take his food obsession over death-defying super toddler.

On that note, I'm thinking it might be wise for us to invest in some hardwood floors. I don't know how much more my carpet can take.

I did catch a cute picture of them today. Sawyer insisted on wearing my yellow shirt (which SHRUNK to half its original length in the dryer, and I am pissed, because I liked that shirt) and dancing around like a maniac. Beckett was enjoying the show.

Dear Beckett,

I really wish you could explain to me why your crib seems to be so evil today, and why a nap is so incredibly unappealing. You know that schedule we worked out? The whole go to sleep after being awake for two hours thing? You were doing really good with that. You even got the hang of falling asleep on your own for a little while. Did something happen to change your mind? Monster in the closet? Indigestion? An incredible urge to see Mommy jump in front of a bus?

Even though it took two hours, I do appreciate that you finally went to sleep. You really shouldn't drive Mommy's blood pressure up so high, though. That's not good for you or me. Believe me, if I could cut off a boobie and let you sleep with it, I would. Doctors are still working on that. Until then, lets remember that taking a nap keeps Mommy sane, okay? All the cool kids are doing it. And you, my son, are very cool.

Love,
Mama

Dear Sawyer,

By nothing short of a miracle, you took a nap today for the first time in two weeks. You have no idea how happy that makes me and I would smother you in kisses if you would let me. However, it was really kind of rude of you to fling your door open the second my foot hit the bottom step after getting your brother to sleep. It really would have been nice to have a few minutes to eat, or pee, or you know, breathe.

I will say that I appreciate that you can at least tell me what you want. Even if it does mean that you turn up your nose at my suggestion of grapes and an English muffin, and instead demand "cakes in a bowl." For both breakfast and lunch. I do apologize for my failed attempt at a creative lunch though. I won't be making that again.

Also. The fridge. We really need to work on learning that it's not there for your entertainment. Yes, it's very neat that you figured out how to open the door and insist on practicing that skill 50 times an hour. However, as much as you enjoy carrying around jars of pickles and grape jelly, cleaning the shattered remains of them off the linoleum is not my idea of a good time. I already did that once last week.

Love,
Mama

Note to self: baby-sitters can be a good thing.

We planned to meet up with my family tonight at Abuelo's to celebrate my brother's birthday. (My baby brother is 19. How is that possible?) I had it all worked out in my head: our reservations were for 5:15 and Beckett had woken up from his nap at 2:45, we needed a half hour to drive up there so he could take a quick nap in the car at 4:45 and be a happy little Chunk through dinner. Sawyer would be hungry and would sit nicely and chow on cheese quesadillas and chips. And I would get to enjoy my bacon-wrapped steak and shrimp.

Well, having lived with my children since the beginning of their existence, I should know to never form expectations for outings. Because the way they behaved in the restaurant was definitely some damn good birth control for all the other patrons.

Sawyer's dining experience went something like this: Kick and scream when Daddy tries to put me in the high chair. Throw crayons. Crumble chips. Run to another empty table to sit. Kick and scream. Grab glass box of artificial sweetener packets. Walk around taunting mom that I might drop and break said box. Kick and scream at another high chair attempt. Be taken outside. Come back inside. Throw artificial sweetener packets in the fountain. Hurl more chips and crayons across the table. Complain loudly from the high chair. Notice everyone is ignoring me, so scream even louder. Be taken back outside, where I yell for Grandma over and over. Wait until Mommy and Daddy box up their food and are leaving to stop yelling and ask to go back inside. Cry for Grandma and Anna the whole way home.

Beckett just plain didn't want to sit still and protested very loudly about it. Rather than falling asleep on the way home like I expected, he cried and was so hysterical when we got home that he wouldn't nurse.

So, we spent about twenty minutes total in the restaurant (which happens to be my favorite) and I got to box up most of my 18-dollar entree without touching it. The steak and pappas just weren't the same out of the microwave five hours later.

You can read my husband's rendition of our evening here. He went into much greater detail (and I think he pays more attention than I do).

I think that as consolation, I should totally win the pink Dyson that 5 Minutes For Mom is giving away. Dyson is even donating the full value in cash to the Breast Cancer Research Foundation, so everyone wins! Check them out, leave a plug in your blog and you have a chance at winning too. But hurry, tonight's your last chance! (And besides, it's mine anyway!)

Having two kids was a bad, bad idea. No, let me rephrase that. Having these two kids was a bad idea. I should have ordered the model with the mute button and autopilot feature. (Those of you with more than two kids -- I maintain the opinion that you are completely fruit loops. I mean that in the nicest way.)

Today has most definitely earned the infamous label of One of Those Days. Yes, at only 8:30 in the morning. The baby has decided that he can't leave my side absolutely ever, which would be fine if I, you know, didn't have a single other thing that ever needed my attention. Ever. Oh, and he's learned that my shoulder makes a convenient snot rag. This makes for an awesome fashion accessory, let me tell you. Snot distressed tees.

And the toddler's affliction with Crisco and tearing paper into tiny little shreds doesn't exactly make for a clean house. He also finds joy in saying, "Look Mommy, rocks!" while chunking one from his hidden stash across the room.

My title comes from Kate Gosselin. She muttered it under her breath on an episode of Jon & Kate + 8 and immediately I was like, "YES. Preach it, sistah!" Although the thought of comparing my life to hers is absolutely laughable, because if I were in her shoes I'd have ran away to Mexico a long time ago. People are definitely born with certain levels of patience -- mine is down here and hers is up here. (Picture me doing some frantic low and high hand gestures.)

I called the husband crying already this morning (poor guy hadn't even made it to work yet) and he said I could come downtown for lunch. To which I whined, "But that's still four hours away. I'm losing my mind now." Plus, that would involve taking a shower and making myself look more like an actual functioning person, so we'll see if I can muster up enough motivation.

Oh, and it appears that not only am I allergic to Neosporin, but I have also developed an allergy for Band-Aids. And yes, I found out the hard way.

I think my comfort food of the day is going to be Halloween Mix. Take a bag of candy corn (I like Brach's Autumn Mix; the little pumpkins are cute) and a jar of dry roasted peanuts (although I'm making a double batch and using both dry roasted and honey roasted) and mix it all together in a bowl. Something about the sweet and salty combination is amazing. Like a Payday. Try it. Love it. Thank me later.

I keep thinking Sam is asleep, only to hear him thunder across the floor above my head again. He already emptied his drawers again (!!!), as well as the drawer under his bed, so there isn't anything left for him to destroy in there. Unless he decides to stack the drawers up and play mountain climber again. I haven't heard the rumble of them toppling over yet though, so he must be biding his time.

Earlier today I could hear him being too quiet at the top of the stairs, and when I asked him what he was doing I was met with, "Spitting my water." I marched up and snatched the cup from him, and when I turned around to go back down he said, "You better get a towel."

"Yes sir, I will get a towel, and you will clean up the mess."

"No, Mommy. I goin' in my house. Bye."

Why didn't anyone tell me that the attitude starts at two years old? Shouldn't he still be struggling to form sentences? The teachers at pre-school next year are going to love him.

He went into his Little Tikes house and slammed the door, and when I tried to get him to come out and help me clean up the water, he responded by bellowing "STOP! GET OUT, MOMMY."

He's still playing with that dollar I gave him yesterday, too. He has crumpled it up, shoved it in his pocket, teased his brother with it and chewed on it, but has astonishingly left it in one piece. I am considering putting it in his baby book, because this is pretty monumental.

Bex was in true form this morning, wailing like an abandoned kitten and trying to launch himself out of the bouncer every time I tried to put him in it so I could get some orders finished. So in an act of desperation, I slung him on my back in the mei tai and kept on sewing. And let me tell you, I feel like I have discovered a magical power now because he actually let me work like that! He was content with chewing on the strap and I trucked through the rest of my orders in record time.

I took pictures, of course, and I hope no one laughs too hard at my scraggly hair and pajama attire. It was either that or take him out so I could shower, get dressed and fix my hair. Which was just not happening at 8am.

I was even more surprised when I turned my back to the camera to snap a close-up of him and realized that not only was he happy, he was asleep. Sam NEVER fell asleep on my back when he was a baby so I hadn't even considered that Bex might. And if that wasn't enough to make me feel like Super Mom -- I actually managed to wrangle him off my back and into the crib without waking him up. I barely had time to snap pictures of the orders before he woke up twenty minutes later, but I still felt pretty awesome about it.

Apparently, 20-minute naps are the trend today because he's already up from his second one and is fussing at me to pick him up. So much for eating lunch after blogging. All I have consumed today are two cupcakes and two Diet Dr. Peppers. I wish I could find the humor in this situation but it's just not happening today.

That's what this is. My children conspire against me. Seriously. When there's just one of them, it's pretty easy to handle. But when you throw a second one into the mix, it's like one says to the other, "Hey, it'd be pretty sweet to see Mom's head balloon up and pop off her shoulders. Lets act like Boston Terriers on crack, maybe that'll do it."

We traveled to downtown Indy today to have lunch with DH and some of his co-workers. I knew today was cursed before we even left, because Bex screamed like a banshee if I detached him from my hip, which made it real fun to try to get ready to leave.

We made it downtown eventually and visited a couple people in the office before heading to the mall for lunch. The Subway employees must have decided today was Move As Slowly As You Possibly Can Day. Honestly, I don't care if you meticulously place my two perfectly-sized tomatoes in a specific location atop the quarter-folded meat or paint a Van Gogh with the mayonnaise. Just make my damn sandwich!!

Everyone else was already eating their food by the time Sam's sandwich was made, and I still had to get Japanese for DH and I. Luckily Manchu Wok produces much more efficient workers than Subway, or I might have imploded. Lunch was uneventful after that. If you consider retrieving sippy cups and cucumber slices from under a stranger's chair and saving your toddler from a flight down the escalator uneventful.

Back to the office again after that to visit my mom, who works for the same company as DH. Got complimented on my hair by several of DH's co-workers. The ego inflation was nice, I will admit. Kids were getting restless and screamy so it was time to make our exit. They both fell asleep on the way home, and I of course had the delusion that I would be able to transfer them both to their beds and have some 'me' time.

WRONG!

Bex woke up as soon as I unlatched his harness. I put him in his rocker to contend with Sam, who I assumed would fall right back asleep when I put him in his bed. Not so. Ten minutes later I could hear his footsteps thundering above me. I went up to his room to scold him back into bed and knew as soon as I opened the door that he needed a diaper change. You see, my child can apparently poop on command. It doesn't matter how recent his last poop was or if I had just changed his diaper five seconds before. He poops because he knows it stalls nap time.

I changed his diaper and put him back in bed, only to discover that he had gotten into his closet where I had recently put his dresser, and dumped out all the drawers. Again. The child-proof doorknob covers that are peddled in the baby aisle at Target? Yeah, SO not child-proof, because my two-year-old most certainly can barge right through them. And he most certainly takes joy in emptying his dresser, which absolutely infuriates me. I also found that he had ripped open a beanie baby and was chewing on the pellets, but the damn thing had magically disappeared. Stowed away for the next time he needs to wreak havoc on me, no doubt.

He has a convertible crib that has been converted to a toddler bed, which means I can shove the open side up against a wall and he can't escape. I reserve this for those particularly hellish days when he decides to be anti-nap, and today most definitely qualified. So up against the wall he went.

You see, my child is not one of those that can have "quiet time" if he doesn't want to sleep. No, if he's not napping, he resorts to tipping over the changing table, shredding the pages of books (even board books, which he destroys with his teeth) and stripping his bed of the sheet and mattress pad. His room has been completely emptied for this reason, except for the dresser in the closet, which is obviously not safe any more either. What do they call those kids? Oh yes. "Spirited."

In between all this, I had been alternating between nursing Bex and putting him back in the rocker, pleading with him to go to sleep. But of course, this was a conspiracy after all, so he could do no such thing. He did a fantastic job of holding up his end of the bargain with his brother and ended up in his crib so I could have a chance to calm down and deflate my head.

I went and got him about ten minutes later, a sobbing, hiccuping mess. I am anti-CIO, but also anti-put my child on the porch with a "Free to any home" sign, so today he got to cry a bit in order to save him from the latter. I felt like Most Horrible Mother on the Face of the Universe and All of Creation after that, of course. As soon as I picked him up he snuggled into my shoulder and fell asleep. Poor chunk. Back into the crib he went, and ahhh.. finally some relaxation?

Or not. Sam was still belting out his opinion of naps at the top of his lungs. (He'll imitate me and say, "Stop! Take a nap! Lay down!" in the most stern toddler voice he can muster. It's actually pretty funny, on a day in which your head is a normal size and not on the verge of exploding.) Knowing I would become headless if he were to wake up Bex, I let him come downstairs and "WATCH-DORA-BASEBALL-GAME," as he says it. Several, several times, in a booming voice, just to be sure I heard him. Not annoying in the least bit, oh no. He is now crushing Cheerios into the carpet. But at least he's quiet.

And now I'm sitting here, banging out this post to vent my frustrations. Which has worked pretty well, actually. I think my head is almost back to its normal size. And to think, I thought all I had to blog about today was my Garnier Fructis shampoo for Works For Me Wednesday. My children, they do not disappoint!

Really though, I love my kids to pieces and I love that they give me the opportunity to tell such amusing stories about them. There is definitely never a dull moment in this house. Sometimes it would be nice if I had a pause button, though. Or, you know, maybe a padded room with a lock on the door, filled with chocolate chip cookies and Dora on a big screen. Either would work.