Small treasures

It's amazing what a reasonably clean house and a shower can do for the soul.

Thing 2: Uncensored

I went to El Pollo Loco to pick up lunch so that the kids and I can take it to my mom's work and have lunch with her. She still can't get around with the cast on her leg.

I ordered two large sodas. The lady asked what kind of drink do I want, and Thing 2 shouted "Mommy only drinks coffee and wine".

Oh boy!

Grandma Got Ran Over By A Reindeer & Became a Robot

My mom broke her leg. Badly. She required surgery to put a plate in to protect her from future breaks. So, that meant no grandma for Thanksgiving, and for the kids to learn not to rough house with her for the next few months.

My son kept asking me questions over and over about how bad her leg was. I didn't want him to be completely distraught, as I know how sensitive he could be. So, I explained she needed surgery to fix her leg, and she'll be fine after some rest. I mentioned that she'll have a metal plate in her leg and she'll be as good as new in time for his birthday.

Metal parts in Grandma's leg?

A boy couldn't be happier! Grandma was part robot. After all, isn't that what happened to Luke Skywalker when Darth Vader cut his hand off? And, wasn't Darth Vader (his current hero) part robot?!

My son is now pleased to have a cyborg granny.

The Nutcracker

I've decided to try and implement some arts and culture into my kids' lives. First, it was the art museum, which resulted in me getting yelled at and the kids deciding that looking at pictures of birds and "weird people" wasn't their thing right now.

No biggie, that's fine. But, I'm not about to give up.

So, I saw that The Nutcracker was in town. My children were super excited to go. They were hopping up and down in anticipation. Finally, we get there, and they sit through the first few scenes. My son asks me "where's the Nutcracker?" I whisper, you have to wait for him. Finally, there's it is. A little girl dancing with her new Nutcracker gift. Some action on the screen (where the Nutcracker kills the Rat/Mouse King) and then more dancing.

My son whispers again "where's the Nutcracker?" Having never seen it, and not knowing what to anticipate, I reassure him "shh! We have to be patient". The snow falls, as a lovely couple dances on screen. He gets antsy "booooring! Mommy where's the Nutcracker?!"

The Nutcracker doesn't reappear. During intermission, I review the program only to see, that The Nutcracker doesn't reappear, that was the extent of it.

Sitting back during act two. Watching the local performers continue dancing to the beautiful melodies, I feel the same frustration as my kids.

I'll know better next time. Maybe I'll save "the arts" for when they're older and I've done my research.

Bedtime Routine

After our bedtime routine (books, etc.) here's the bedtime dance:

Thing 1 and Thing 2 go to bed.
Thing 2 talking and singing herself to sleep. Gets up. Wants water
Thing 1 needs to pee.
Thing 2 needs to pee.
Thing 1 wants water.
Thing 2 wants a story (whines when I say no).
Thing 1 wants a lullaby (whines when I say I'll be in later after Thing 2's asleep).
Thing 2 wants to hold my hand and wants a lullaby
Thing 1 wants another hug and kiss
Thing 2 wants another hug and kiss
Thing 2 starts to sing
Hubby yells at Thing 1 to go back to bed.
Thing 2 asks if daddy's mad at Thing 1
Mommy loses her cool and tells Thing 2 to stop talking and sleep
Thing 2 pouts and sniffs
Thing 2 finally falls asleep
I sneak out and check on Thing 1
Thing 1 wants a lullaby
Thing 1wants a story (whines for no story)
My leg falls asleep, I leave the room
Thing 1 sneaks out of bed
Both parents shout "Go back to bed!"
Thing 1 sneaks out of bed exclaiming "I can't sleep by myself"
Hubby sits in Thing 1's room to tuck him in
Thing 1 wants a lullaby
Hubby leaves b/c he can't sing
Thing 1 falls asleep
Thing 2 wakes up and wants mommy
Thing 2 gets out of bed again
Thing 2 falls asleep on the floor
Thing 2 wakes up (2o minutes later) and wants water
Thing 2 goes to bed

I wake up in the middle of the night with both kids. The sneak into my bed while I was sleeping again. I swear, they're breaking me down!

Tears of sweet sadness

Last night, as we normally do on Wednesdays, the kids and I had movie night. Toy Story 3 came out on DVD, and so naturally we had to get it and watch it ASAP.

Movie loaded, kids had their cups of milk, popcorn was popped, and we're all snuggled away on the couch with the magic blanket covering us.

We were ready!

And then the sadness started. There's a scene in the movie where the toys tell of how a teddy bear gets lost. I hear little sniffles coming from Thing 2. I look down, and there was the biggest frown on her face, and tears down her cheeks.

I ask if she's okay, and she starts to bawl "NOOOOoooo" as she buries her head deeply into my shoulders, sobbing uncontrollably. I know these cries. These are those cleansing cries I have every so often, usually once a month. These cries are good for the soul, and often over exaggerated by an event (such as a sad movie or story). They are the built up tears that flow uncontrollably, and washes away the sadness from the soul.

I just didn't think that these tears would start so young. At 2 1/2 yrs old, Thing 2 had these soulful sorrowful tears.

It was so sweet to see her tear stained cheeks, wet eyes, and extremely sad frowny face. I looked at her and said "it is sad, isn't it? It's okay to be sad, and it's okay to cry when you're sad". Which, of course, made her cry even more. Once she got it out, she tried to explain (in the best blubbery way she could" that the teddy bear was lost and didn't have his mommy.

I gave her a reassuring hug and told her, that it is sad he didn't have a mommy, but his mommy will always be with him, even when he can't see her. And, that mommy is always thinking about and loving him, just like her mommy loves her. More than words could say. I hugged her so tight and told her that I'm not going anywhere, and that I'll always be with her and love her.

After giving her another piece of cheesy popcorn, we resumed the movie.

Fat Questions

I believe in being honest with your kids about the important things. And, I also know that Thing 1 is at the age where he's learning about judgment, comparisons, opposites, etc. So,when Thing 1 asked me "mommy, are you fat", I felt obligated to answer him honestly "yes, mommy is fat. But, I'm also healthy". Which I think is the important things. I'd like to teach my kids about being healthy and living a healthy lifestyle as being important.

I'm working on a healthy attitude towards body image. I just hope that there are other things that my kids will focus on to be embarrassed about. I mean, it's me, and I have plenty of ammunition to give them.

So for now, I have instructed Thing 1 to answer anyone who mentions that he has a fat mommy with "she's not fat, she's fluffy". That seems to have made him happy.

Red Hot Chili Pepper

My 2 1/2 yr old decided that it would be a good idea to eat a chili packet of peppers left over from one of our Round Table Pizzas today. I doubt she'll be exploring any more packages with her mouth any time soon...the bright side? She wasn't hurt, and the bright tomato red shade didn't last, as she returned back to her normal shade of color within a few minutes (and after chugging a lot of milk). Oh, and her sinuses are clear for the moment...

Jesus Power

I just made the switch to Catholic school with Thing 1 and Thing 2. They both are adjusting differently. Thing 2 has taken off! She loves it, and has learned so much already. My once shy violet has bloomed with open arms to this confident, social butterfly. She doesn't hesitate as much in the world around her, and I can see the effects of positive teaching and a little (more) encouragement.

Thing 1 has had a different experience. My once super popular child is a little more tentative. The teachers are great and he's learning a lot, but they don't cater to him like other teachers before him. He's a little more reserved now, and he's finding it a little difficult to find his groove. I have confidence, though, that he'll find it.

One of the big things that a parochial school teaches is about religion, which I have to admit, I've been lacking. Not for lack of faith, but mostly because the idea of G-d and Jesus is a hard concept to teach without sounding scary (which is apparently the impression I left on my older child).

I am enjoying listening to their concepts about Jesus and the world around them, as it relates to G-d. I love hearing their sweet little voices singing about praise, blessings, and thanksgiving. It's exciting!

Of course, being young, they have a different take on the subject of Jesus. My children were in the back seat of the car, arguing about who was stronger.

Thing 1: I'm strong. I'm stronger than Daddy!
Thing 2: I'm stronger than you.
Thing 1: No, I'm stronger than you. I can make clouds from Jesus.
Me: What? You can make clouds from Jesus? Don't you mean with Jesus?
Thing 1: No, from Jesus, I can make clouds. (makes a muscle) With Jesus, I can do anything!

You know, he's got a point.

Funny things heard around the house that make you go hmm...

Thing 1 approaches my husband and I about 2 hours before bedtime to complain about his sister's toy: Can you tell her to turn it off? I need my beauty sleep.

Um, okay...?

Whining Wednesday

Spouse: someone who'll stand by you through all the trouble you wouldn't have had if you'd stayed single.

Being married takes a lot of work. I admire the people like my parents who make it look easy. I've read something that a long marriage is two people dancing a tango while doing solos. That is so true. There's a lot of compromise and a lot of giving.

With my spouse, I love him and cannot imagine my life without him. Though, there are times, naturally, when I think life would be so much easier. Things in the house would stay where they remain, I wouldn't be disappointed when I came home to yet another mess I didn't create, and I wouldn't have to rely on anyone creating more work for me.

Wednesdays are his nights to play with the guys while I take care of the household. I'm glad he gets to go out and blow off some steam, and in return I ask for a little help. I get disappointed in myself for feeling this way, because he does work hard, like I do. And, I genuinely want the best for him, but I just wish for once, he'd understand, that sometimes, all I really need in life is to walk home and see the good things he does, not see his faults.

Strike an average between what a woman thinks of her husband a month before she marries him and what she thinks of him a year afterward, and you will have the truth about him. ~H.L. Mencken

Don't ban skippy...

To parents whose kids have extreme food allergies, I my heart goes out to you. You have a very difficult task in keeping your kids safe and healthy. However, you go too far when you suggest the world bend to your individual needs. Take for example Lisa Conquet http://www.babble.com/best-recipes/healthy-eating/raising-child-peanut-allergy-risks-food-intolerance/ No doubt do I feel bad for the hoops you and your family jump through. But to suggest that the world stop eating peanuts in public places just to accommodate your need, is a bit extreme. Sadly, you are not alone. The anti-peanut sentiment is on the rise for the small majority of parents whose kids have extreme allergies.

What about parents whose kids are allergic to gluten, and cannot be around any wheat? Should we banish all bread and wheat items? Kids with milk allergies? Soy? Products made with eggs? What about the parents of the kids allergic to bees? Should we ban all bees? Don't even get me started on pets...

There's never going to be a safe environment. And, like a left handed person living in a right handed world will tell you, you have to be adaptable, because the world will not stop for you.

Registering for a good school

I've got school anxiety. For my kids. We've decided to switch Thing 1 and Thing 2 to a different private school so that they can go to this elusive kindergarten. The politics behind a good education is crazy. You have to promise to do everything short of giving your organs. I'm glad we checked into it early, otherwise we'd have never made the donor, er, I mean waiting list.

The amount of research spent on educational points, grades for schools, and teacher to child ratio, I could be doing something more enriching such as learning a new language, taking up knitting, or following up on my fantasy football team.

In the long run, I hope that we're making the right choices now. Parenting is harder than it looks!

Lessons

As parents, we should practice what we preach. I've learned that lesson yesterday when dressing my son for TaeKwonDo, he asked to wear his belt and complete uniform. He was practically insisting that today was Uniform Day.

It was hot, and it's still summery outside, so thinking in the best his best interest (and to avoid an impeding heat rash) that it would be best to continue the tradition of tshirt and TKD pants.

Again, my son pleads with me that today is Uniform Day and that he needs his complete uniform. Again, I refused. We went a few rounds of this until I pulled the shiny trick (distracting him with something else) and we were on our merry way.

Only to discover everyone else was wearing uniforms. My son immediately looks at me and says "see, I told you!"

The instructor mentions it to him, and Thing 1 starts to pout a bit. I step up and say "I take responsibility for that. He told me and I didn't believe him".

My son looks up, gives me a grateful smile for admitting I was wrong and he was right. In that moment of redemption, I saw a little spark of pride in him that I stood up for him and he was right (for a change).

The instructor gives a little laugh, says it's okay...and class continues. No harm. But, there were lessons here. For him, he learned his mom can make mistakes, but I can admit to them.

Lessons learned for me: I need to take more time to listen to my children. I'm not always right.

Humble pie? I'll take a slice.

I confess...

I confess that have a chocolate chip cookie obsession. But, I didn't feel like baking, so I purposely tricked my husband into making chocolate chip cookies as a "solo bonding activity to do with the kids." The kids played perfectly into my master plan of squealing with delight "yay, cookies with daddy!!!" whilst running around in a craze. I confess that I forgot to tell my husband to cut the recipe in half otherwise we'd be overflowing with cookies.

I confess that as he's reading them a story (another suggested bonding exercise), I'm enjoying one of the too many cookies with my glass of wine...

Too Much Information

For those who are squimish, stop reading here. No seriously, you've been warned.

Being a mom means learning about poo. From Day 1, you're responsible for someone else's bowel movements. You learn about the cute little odorless poop that newborns have. You know the tarry stuff that you can't get off even with a Magic Eraser? To the stinky poo that comes with feeding your kids solids. Poo is just a way of life for a new mom. Then comes changing diapers. With cloth, you learn about inserts, sprayers, pre-treatments, sun cleaning (which is a crock of lies, I tell ya!), and endless amounts of laundry. With disposables, you learn about the way to wipe, fold properly, how many bags you need to carry, blow outs, which diapers rim the cheeks better, etc.

Then potty training. You're relieved because you think I'LL NEVER HAVE TO CHANGE ANOTHER DIAPER AGAIN. But, there's still the small potties, the butt wiping, and the techniques. It becomes more complicated and more involved than I think it really needs to be.

You learn more about poo than you really ever wanted. Potty training is the rite of passage every parent needs to go through, to truly know your kid is evolving.

Kids get curious and stick their fingers in poo, and finger paint the walls (Magic Eraser does get rid of it on the walls, for what it's worth). Kids get curious and watch themselves poop. They happy proclaim I have to poo, I smell like poo, you smell like poo, I don't like poo, my poo looked like a donut, etc. to every stranger they meet.

Kids are just as fascinated by poo, as they are with everything else in the world.

Thing 1 is a big time fruit eater. He's small, but has some of the most powerful poops. When I dump the potty, I am actually amazed that such a magnificent structure can come from such a tiny body.

Thing 2 isn't as passionate in fiber as her brother. Her poops usually range on the smaller, delicate spectrum. You can definitely tell which is which. She likes to point out shapes in her poo and is most proud when she can achieve the letter "r".

My kids are synchronized poopers. Always have been. I have invested in two potties for that reason. They go together, sometimes holding hands singing songs. About poo.

I've learned more than I ever wanted to know about poo. Sometimes I think you learn too much.

The bagel

I decided to be brave, and embark on an impromptu, but much needed shopping trip to the grocery store. Normally, I'd strategically place Thing 2 (my youngest) in the cart while Thing 1 wanders around within decent range. He's under better voice control than Thing 2. And, he responds better to operant conditioning than Thing 2.

On this day, however, Thing 1 was unusually tired, a side effect from the IDON'TWANNANAP syndrome. Thing 2 was a bigger ball of energy after power napping for 2 hours. So, I decided to foolishly try it...

Thing 2 went wild running amok here and there, touching everything, until I was finally able to chase her down near the bakery. I'm amazed at her quick speed and versatility as she was able to maneuver the displays and aisles quicker than I could. The shopping cart with Thing 1 weighed me down, regardless, she could have given Marion Jones a run for her money. She was immediately lured to the bagel display where fresh bagels tempt shoppers daily in a very child accessible case. She was happily touching each and every accessible bagel, despite my hopeless pleas and begging "Come Back".

Fulfilling my obligation to buy what my child has touched, I came home with 5 bagels. My husband's response: "Why couldn't she have touched the blueberry?"

Skinny Jeans and Lipedema

Skinny Jeans. Hate them. Loathe them. With every fiber of my being, I cannot wait for this fashion to be out. It's hard enough for a person with lipedema to find a decent fitting pair of jeans. But now Skinny Jeans play into fashion.

Not only does Skinny Jeans make people look awful while promoting the ideal that thinner is better, but it also makes it extremely difficult to find jeans that fit properly when you have larger than life column legs.

I know, I know, society is never going to bend to my command. If that was the case, I'd be able to afford a $80K house in my parents neighborhood...digressing.

Before these devil jeans came into play, it was easy to shop for jeans (even online). But now, even plus sized jeans have skinnier legs.

My choices now are to either buy mens pants or wear dresses. And, by wearing dresses, I will be showing off my column legs, which is not something I want to do. Wearing mens jeans aren't ideal either as now I have jeans that fit my legs, but I also have a huge bulge in front which makes me look awkward.

I can't win. And, I can't wait for parachute pants to come back into style. MC Hammer, we need you!

It Ain't Pretty...

I think I'm a little insulted. I saw a Tampax commercial marketing a tampon as the cuter tampon.

Excuse me? A cuter tampon? First of all, I don't really care what the frack the thing looks like. If anything, I don't sit and stare at it at any point of my interaction with the thing. I don't care if its yellow, orange, or white. I certainly hope the damn thing doesn't sparkle. Inspire me with a wrapper? Sure, but tell me it's cute and I feel like feminism took a big slap in the cheeks. Next you'll be telling me that it's comes beaded or with sequins so I can accessorize it with my shoes.

I don't want a "cute" tampon. Marketing Fail.

Rule of Mommy Hood #188

Kids are sticky. Kids will find anything sticky. Even when there's no obvious cause for sticky-ness, kids are sticky!

Vacationing with Children

We went on our first family vacation. I say the term tongue in cheek, as I don't see it as our first vacation, but my husband does. First as in no one else but him, me, and the two kids.

I don't know how my parents vacationed with my brother and I in the car for long periods of time and NOT have something to amuse us (like the blessed dual DVD players we invested in a while ago). Of course, how I remember it, my dad drove like a madman trying to get from point A to point B in record time, while we sat quietly in the back seats like little heaven sent angels. I'm sure my parents remember that experience differently. Digressing...

We went to Six Flags/Discovery Kingdom. 10 hours at a park - no naptime. You can imagine that the kids passed out once we hit the car. My daughter has a new passion for giraffes. My son got a kick out of feeding sea lions a few fish.

It was a fun trip. Of course it included Thomas the Train.

The kids loved the hotel. Just the idea of the hotel room sent the kids in a spin. I need to find a way to market the energy of youth. I want to be powered by toddlers.

We got home in record time, compliments of my husband's driving. It reminds me of my dad's driving. I'm sure with enough Diet Red Bull, he may be able to keep up with my dad driving from CA to MO in 2 days. Nah, dad's legendary...

Who doesn't like a good axe kicking?

My son was very cute in TaeKwonDo yesterday. His instructor was telling him to do front kick, front kick, axe kick.

So my son says the kick as he's doing them 'front kick, front kick, ass kick'. I had to laugh, did the instructor really think a four year old is going to say axe?

Later that evening, my husband asks my son how he did at Taekwondo and my son replies "I like ass kicking, it's my favorite"

My little feminist male child

"We've begun to raise daughters more like sons... but few have the courage to raise our sons more like our daughters." ~Gloria Steineem

Wow, what a powerful statement.

My son has moved on from his dance classes into Taekwondo. He's the only one in his class that actually hugs the other kids. I noticed this with the kids of his own age, but didn't think twice about it until recently. He went to hug a (much older) kid, and the boy looked at me awkwardly. I told the boy "he likes to hug" and the boy just shrugged his shoulders, and I asked my son to give him some space (appropriately b/c the same boy was practicing his kicks and bopped him in the head).

I also realized that my child is the only child who runs to me (his parent) and gives warm hugs and kisses to after each lesson.

I am so proud. I've raised a hugger.

Happily, I've had some time to spend with my son one on one. I've learned some of his favorite things are to help me cook in the kitchen (cheddar popcorn is his specialty), going on the deck to look through his telescope, and to trace letters in either is Care Bears or Spiderman Activity books. He will help me clean his room and do laundry without batting an eye.

He will hug and tell amazing stories, and is quick to comfort his little sister (and other kids) when they are sad. I watch him play with both the girls and the boys in the class without bias. He likes when I include him in painting his nails blue (when I paint his sister and my nails blue).

Yesterday, I took the kids shopping. His over-stimulated little sister was having a fit because she wanted cookies on the shelf. He went and got them for her (so naturally) and said "there, now you don't have to cry".

I feel that I'm raising a strong and caring boy. He's going to be an amazing dad. So far, he's not polluted by the stigma that he can only be a boy, and that girls are icky or 2nd class.

I'm proud of the little feminist male I'm raising.

He ain't heavy, he's my brudder...

Here's a little gem from my youngest one. She was pinching her big bro on the face in the cheeks and got both my husband and I mad at her. She went into this 5 minute tear fest. A total overreaction:

Daughter: Crying
Me: why are you crying?
Daughter: Daddy yell at me
Me: Why'd he yell at you?
Daughter: b/c you yell at me
Me: why did I yell at you?
Daughter: b/c I pinch Adander
Me: Are you supposed to pinch Alexander?
Daughter: Yeah
Me: No, you're not supposed to, are you?
Daughter: Yeah, he my brudder...

LHA

Men definitely have issues. I think the main thing to be concerned about is that Men don't think the same way that we Women do. Documented evidence has shown, that Men are definitely from another planet. This is no new revelation.

My husband is a good case study. He has a bad case of (what I affectionately call) the lazy halfasses. It's not a new condition, its actually always been there. But, until you live with a Man, you don't realize how bad his case of LHA is.

Here's a classic case of LHA: Husband arrives to pick you and your newborn daughter up from the hospital in the middle of winter, but the car seat is NOT installed. He genuinely doesn't understand why I'd be miffed. I try to explain that here I was on a cold winter day outside with daughter bundled up while snow falls in a wheelchair waiting for him to install a car seat. You know, something I had nagged at him to do WEEKS before when I was preggo, and not at the last minute. Talk about being completely mortified AND horrified, and cold, and hormonal, and…

Yeah, it’s like they just don’t get it. I don’t know why they don’t, but somewhere Men are missing the common sense gene when it comes to kids. I'd like to say it was only my husband, but a friend recently wrote me and said that her husband ties their dog down in the front yard where their children plays, and doesn't pick up the poop. She complains, but he doesn't see that as a bad thing. Tell it to another mom, and we'd all agree that he should allow the dog a little time in a different area, OR should just pick up the poop. Not leave it set there, or mow over it. Ask a Man, and they don’t see why it’s a big deal, that is until a kid actually picks up a poop to eat it, is covered in poop and you’re not around to clean it, or something of theirs has poop on it b/c the kids were playing in it. THEN they are called into action. But, try explaining that to them ahead of time, and it’s like you’re talking to the wind.

And, it never gets better. No matter what. For example, yesterday, I asked my husband to take out the trash, which he did. Only he didn’t put a trash bag into the trash, because that was too much work. It’s completely my fault for not saying “Sweetie, could you please take out the trash AND put a trash bag in the bin, you sex muffin you…” Naturally, I had to change daughters’s poop diaper, and when I went to throw it away, there was no trash bag. Which means I had to put one in and put the poop diaper down on the counter because I had no bags available, which means I had to sterilize and sanitize the counter, all because he had LHA. All the while, he sat on the couch, watching me, listening to me vent about his case of the lazy halfasses, and didn’t even flinch, apologize, or do anything but drool on himself.

Its not a one time thing, and he's lucky that I love him so much. I just wish for a little more follow through and a little more common sense. Then I sigh, and realize you can't control LHA. Its a guy thing.

I told you...

So, my son's new favorite phrase was "I told you..."

It's annoying. Because, half the time, he didn't tell me. But, I roll with it.

Here's a cute conversation we had in the car going to my mom's house.

Son: Can we go to Uncle R's house?
Me: No, we're going to Grandma's house.
Son: But, I want to go to Uncle R's house.
Me: No, we're going to Grandma's and see how she feels [she just had an operation]
Son: I talked to Grandma on the phone. She's better now. She told me. Now can we see Uncle R?
Husband: He's got you there.
Me: No, we're still going to Grandma's.

At Grandma's house...

Me: what's wrong, go give Grandma and Grandpa a hug.
Son: they're doing fine now. No need to be here. I told you.

Rule of Life #169

Never wear thong underwear to a bounce house...

At the doctor's office

My son's 4 year old check up had a few laughs. Here's some Q & A:

The Doc is looking for the answer "I eat"

Doc: What do you do when you're hungry?
Son: I rub my tummy
Doc: And then what?
Son: I tell Mommy or Daddy
Doc: And then what happens?
Son: They give me a pear or an apple.
Doc: And then what?
Son: I wash it.
Doc: And then what do you do?
Son: I eat my fruit.

Whew!

Doc: What do you do when you're cold.
Son: I make a fire.
Doc: (laughs) I've never heard that before.

For the record, we don't let him build fires.

I love this age!

Easter can be punny...

So, my son has been frantic all weekend about Easter Eggs. Apparently, they made a big deal out of it at his school, and he had some odd fascination with it.

To combat this, as a good Catholic mama, I tried to explain to him in simple terms what Easter was really about. You know, that Jesus dies, rises from the dead, and we celebrate by the Easter Bunny giving us candy if we're good.

On one occasion about Easter Eggs, I found myself resembling an old Abbott and Costello skit regarding Easter Eggs.

Son: can we do the eggs now?
Me: no, you have to wait until daddy comes home so we can dye them.
Son: I don't want them to die, I want to color them!
Me: Dyeing is coloring.
Son: they turn colors when they die?
Me: when the eggs are dyed, they will turn colors
Son: so daddy has to kill them when he gets home?
Me: no one is killing the eggs. We're just coloring them
Son: when they die?
Me: when they're dyed, as in color

Needlesstosay, this conversation went on for a while, which resulted in my little philosopher being even more confused and frustrated.

He eventually got over it when he threw his first egg into the green dye.

Watch where you walk...

Me: My back hurts

Thing 1: Sorry, mama, I stepped on a crack today.

:(

Quote of the day

When my children are wild and unruly, I like to use a safe playpen. When they're finished, I climb out.

Working Mom Guilt

I'm one of the odd working moms who actually enjoy my work. I get to leave for a little bit, interact with other adults, connect with other moms (ironically) via internet and get paid for it. What more could a woman ask for.

Being around my children 24/7 would drive me absolutely ape-shizz bonkers. Not that I don't love my kids (I absolutely adore them more than my own life), but I'm not the personality type that really can stay home and raise children (anyone's children). I need variety to thrive, and for the most part, my children are happier for it.

There are mornings, however, when it is difficult to leave them. Every once in a while, the working mom guilt sets in. Reading articles that suggest leaving your children at a young age is selfish, and that I'm turning my son into a womanizer by leaving him in the care of others (!) sometimes make me stop to examine the place at where I'm at and what I'm doing...Sometimes, even hearing the kids crying in the background (on a morning call to my husband) when they don't want to get dressed, and putting them on the phone and giving them tele-kisses makes me feel like I'm not doing enough.

Then I have to give pause to my own creation, look at them, and how WELL they thrive in an academic play environment. I see how wonderful their little minds work, how social they are, and how independent they are becoming.

I'm totally in awe every day seeing them grow, learn, play, thrive, and know that I'm doing a good job, and really paying for the best care for them. And, nothing beats the feeling of a bad day at work then the look on their faces when they see me, run to me, give me a big hug/kiss and tell me all that they've learned and ask if they can do it again tomorrow.

Rule of Mom Life #513

Your kids will stop doing cute things the minute the video camera is on.

Rule of Mom Life #402

Your kids will never decide on the same movie to watch at the same time.

Space

I should be an astronomer. I'm always looking for space.

Precious space away from my Thing 1 and Thing 2...

Don't get me wrong, like any mom, I love being around my kids. Love the hugs, kisses, and the high fives. But sometimes I'd just like a little space. A little of myself.

A typical night, my kids complete my pajama ensemble; a child under each arm or on each leg. I'm thinking that I should start a trend. Give new meaning to the term "baby wearing". But, instead of babies, more like "child wearing", "preschooler wearing", or just plain "mama bling".

Anyway, the point is...space just doesn't happen. And, the sad thing is that one day, they're not going to want to sit on my lap, and one day they're going to be away to college, and I will long for The Days of Whine and Roseola.

So, as tired and overtouched as I am. I'm grateful to have my Thing Bling.

Mahna Mahna

One of the silliest things I've ever done was introduce my kids to the old 1961 Muppet Show with the Mahna Mahna monsters.

We've watched it so many times. Alexander is now actually acting out the part of Mahna Mahna, and can scat to it very well.

I love that he's "scatting" and starting to improve and make up songs on his own. And, his little sister supports his efforts by dancing to his melody.

Thing One and Thing Two

I sometimes refer to my kids as Thing One and Thing Two. Obviously inspired by Dr. Suess' The Cat in the Hat. Thing One and Thing Two are two lovable characters that create chaos and help teach lessons on life. Much like my two little things.

They bring chaos into my life. In a good way. They challenge me, teach me, and help me think of things I would not have otherwise imagined.

I never imagined that I'd be rejoice over something so simple as my son actually trying a potato (voluntarily, with coaxing).

And, I never thought I'd celebrate poop (in ways that only a mother can).

My Things have helped me to experience and appreciate the little things in life.

And, like The Cat, I'll take my Thing One and Thing Two with me everywhere I go.