Five rules of toddlerism & Day 72. 293 Days Left.

Thursday night, St. Patty’s day, we I decided the kids and I needed to get out of the house. I called the hubby and told him when he got home from work, we were going out.

We decided to take the kids to a family event in Fort Lauderdale. Once arriving, we were a bit disappointed so we walked to another restaurant. The kids were amazing during dinner; well behaved, sat, ate and enjoyed the bagpipe player which came to each table. Were these really my children?

We got home around 9pm and it was all downhill from there. They cried in perfect harmony; Addison until 11:30pm and Jackson 12am. What the hell happened to them between the time we left the restaurant and got home? Jackson we blamed teething. Addison, well, what was her excuse? Oh, that’s right, she is three. Yes, this is more like it… welcome back kids!

The kids woke at 7:30am and were already shouting their morning demands: mil-mil-mil(milk), chocolate milk, cereal, potty, new diaper... whine, whine, whine, wine… mmm wine. It’s only 7:30am; right.

I pry open my eyes and meet every demand. Good mommy. My only hope was that I can get the monsters down for a nap by 11am. We had plans to go to my friend Jayme’s and hang out by the pool with her and our other girlfriend (my kids call Aunt Wiz). Aunt Wiz has a son; B will be one in a couple of weeks.

Rule number one: Never compare your children to B. He is an amazing baby (not that I don’t think my children are amazing because they are)… but B was born without a fussy switch. This baby is quiet, content, happy; he is not either of my children. Right, we are not comparing.

12:30 in the afternoon, no sight of napping or the hopes of a nap; we pack-up, walk the dogs and head out for our day of fun in the sun.

We get to Jayme’s and shortly after Aunt Wiz and cousin B arrive. Addison is so excited. If there is any person Addison loves as much as mommy, daddy, her Auntie M (my sister), Aunt Wennie, uncles or her grand-parents it is Aunt Wiz. Addison jumps up and down clapping her hands. This is what she has been waiting for the past week. Maybe that is why she has not been sleeping… excitement.

Rule number two: Never tell your toddler they are going to do something fun and exciting until the day of the event; the anticipation leads to no sleep and as we all know I NEED my sleep!

Five minutes into Aunt Wiz and B being in the house, Addison starts the “lets go to the pool” over and over and over. We get everyone ready and walk to the pool. The boys had a great time. Both Jackson and B were content lounging in their floaties. Addison had fun but after 15 minutes she was whining that we needed to go back to Jayme’s house because “ I so so so cold and tired and need to go to Jayme’s to take a nap because I so cranky” as only Addison can so eloquently say.

Meanwhile, I knew what everyone was thinking. I was thinking the same damn thing… we packed bags for three babies, blew up water wings for Addison, two floaties for the boys, packed a cooler with snacks and drinks and walked over to the pool; now 20 minutes later Addison is ready to leave?!

Rule number three: An overtired toddler and the sun are not great combinations.

Jayme suggests we take the kids for a walk to see the horses- we did just that. I thought it would be something Addison enjoyed; she loves horses. She was a little fussy though. I think the combination of a late night, no nap and the sun left her withered. Jackson, however, loved the horses. His face light up as he stuck his finger in one horses nostril. Notice how nothing was mentioned about B. He was content the entire time. Just happy to be hanging off his mommy’s hip.

We get back to the house, change and Jayme starts dinner. Two more friends of hers would be joining for dinner; one of which is a mommy with her two daughters a two yr old and 4 yr old. Good, Addison will have playmates. Maybe that will keep her busy.

I scramble to try and get the kids down for a nap before everyone arrives; however, Jackson is to busy going up and down the stairs. All. Fucking. Day. I hate stairs. Really what is the fascination with stairs? The three of us took turns getting him. The moment we left the living room we would hear Addison yell “Mommy Jackson is up the stairs again. Come get him”. Fantastic.

Fifteen minutes before everyone arrives, Jackson finally falls to sleep. I lay him on the sofa and sigh. I will actually be able to eat dinner.

The girls begin running around the house, screaming… I look over and Jackson sleeps through the chaos. He is exhausted. He was sleeping soundly until the girls began jumping onto the sofa- he wakes screaming just as Jayme was putting dinner on the table. So much for enjoying dinner. I sit him on my lap and we he eats.

Rule number four:Do not have a happy thought before enjoying the experience.

After dinner, the kids continue to run around and play. I go out to the living room to check them and I smell poop. I check Jackson; nothing. I look in Addison’s direction. She knows what’s next. “Addison come here and let me check your underwear”. Yup, sure enough my overtired, stubborn three yr old decided to poop in her underwear… I don’t know what was most frustrating the fact I knew she was overtired and would mostly likely poop, that I forgot to bring an extra pair of pull-ups or underwear or that her response to “Addison why did you poop in your underwear” was “because I did”.

Rule number five: Always pack an extra pair of underwear and if you have not learned this after the third time of experiencing the very same situation, you are an asshole like me!

When I have the two of them alone it becomes very difficult to sit and enjoy myself. Most times I find I am having less fun and hate the fact I can’t just sit and talk like everyone else. Instead, I am running around like a "NO" screaming mad person chasing two toddlers room to room. Why was Aunt Wiz able to help with dinner, sit and enjoy eating her meal, help with clean up and engage in conversation with other adults? Why was B contently crawling around on the floor not making a peep?

As I sat at the table, while I hear my monsters screaming in the background I think to myself… well, they really could be worse. I have seen bad kids and my kids are not bad; they are toddlers.

Lesson learned: parent’s are always most critical of their own children. They weren’t that naughty… just obnoxious enough to drive me insane.
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Day 72
All in a weekend
Sunday Playdate in the Park





Addison exhausted


Sunday morning was spent at the park, the afternoon at Pop-pop and Gredda's house; ending with a sleep over for Addison.



Monday afternoon, I went to pick-up Addison. The hubby met us at my parent's house and we ended up staying for dinner.

Tuesday, I was happy to be home...

The ending result... a week of being out, a week of late nights and early mornings, a week of cranky overtired babies and a week to finish a post.

Take a bite & Day 71. 294 Days Left.

Three words I hate most.

Seriously,I must repeat them a million times during the course of dinner.

Addison was not always a horrible eater. In fact, it seems as though she only has a difficult time during dinner.

See the look of disgust on her face... she really does not want to eat what is crammed in her mouth...

I touched a bit on her eating habit once before. At the time she was going through a cinnamon toast and cereal only phase….ah, toddlerism.

Dinner takes anywhere from an hour to two, sometimes longer. “Addison, take a bite” seems to be the only dinner conversation. Each time she politely responds yells “no mommy, I have food in my mouth; see! I need to take a drink to send it to my belly.” She is so matter-of-fact. Apparently, Mommy is so stupid.

I sit and watch as she swooshes her chocolate milk around her food stuffed cheeks in the hopes she can hide the taste of the repulsive dinner I spent the last hour preparing and cooking. Disgusting. Toddlers are disgusting. Don't you think?
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Day 71
Happy St. Patty's Day

Be safe

Beauty Sleep & Day 69. 296 Days Left.

Apparently 6am is the new 8am around here.

A few days ago, when Jackson was waking up at 6am it wasn't so bad well, because Addison was actually going to bed at a decent hour and sleeping through the night.

Seriously who am I kidding? It was still sort of sucky, particularly because I was still going to bed at midnight. It's hard to enjoy the fact that they slept from 8pm through until 6am when it's still dark out and you're oddly more exhausted then you were when you were waking up to feed them every three hours.

However, the past week, Addison has been fighting us to the point of exhaustion, She refuses to go to bed. How does a three year old refuse to go to sleep? Well, since you asked…

It begins with a normal bedtime routine. Dinner. Bath. Teeth. Movie. Bed. Yes, I said movie. Clearly I am in need of much deserved peace. Terrible parenting? Maybe. Do I care? NO!

Most nights they are sleeping long before the movie is over. 8pm.
This past week she has come running out of her room with a slue of demands. Another movie. I have to pee. I have to poop. I need a kiss. I want a hug. I need a blanket. Ice water. I hungry. I need socks. My eye hurts. My knee hurts. My butt hurts.

Yes, her butt hurts…

Which all translates to I want to sleep in Mommy’s bed.

As you can imagine, by 12am we I cave. Addison comes running into our bed. I am exhausted. I want to sleep.

She does not immediately fall to sleep; instead she begins rolling around hitting, kicking & head butting me, tapping on the headboard, tossing pillows about…

After I have finally worn out the “Addison go to sleep” it is 1am; she is finally sleeping.

6am. Jackson is up and ready to eat. I need my fucking coffee.

But what they don't realize is that I need my Goddamn beauty sleep.
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Day 69
Pumping gas

Only in my house & Day 68. 297 Days Left.

Addison: “Mommy, I have a boogie”

Mommy: “ok, so get a piece of toilet paper” Addison running down the hall…”and don’t forget to close the bathroom door!”

Addison: “here mommy, get my boogie now”

Mommy: “Did you remember to close the door?”

Addison: “Yes”

Well, you can expect my surprise when I pass the bathroom and find this


Only in my house would you find a balloon in the toilet.
suppose, that is what I get for tying a rubber duck to the balloon string.

I guess someone forgot to close the door.
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Day 68
after making mud soup

No Use Crying Over Spilt Juice & Day 46. 319 Days Left.

“Mommy, I’m going to time out!” I turned to look at Addison, whose juice cup spilled all over and under the sofa and side table. She looked back at me defiantly. “I made a big mess,” gesturing toward her juice cup that was now laying on the floor (while Jackson happily splashed in the puddle). “I am going to time out,” she reiterated. “You…you can’t have a time out,” I stammered “it’s MY job to say when you get a time out – you don’t get to tell ME when you are having one. (By this point Addison already placed herself on the time-out mat (which is really the dog bed), along with her dinosaur and Jackson (who follows behind her every move and I am sure he had a part, other than splashing, in the spilled juice). “Addison, you are not getting a time-out. We need to go wash your hands, rinse off Jackson and you are going to help mommy clean up this mess.” As I am holding Jackson and she is following along to the sink she begins screaming “I want my time-out, I spilled my juice.” I tried to explain the mess was an accident and she did not deserve a time out for an accident-“we all have them“. Well, this made matters worse and she was now in a full fledged meltdown.

I thoughtfully considered what the hell just happened? The spilled juice, the request and her attempt for punishment, my response to her bold demand, all orchestrated by a barely thigh-high child who thinks a snowman is called a “nu-sa.” Meanwhile, I am cursing myself for giving into a three year old by allowing her juice in a cup with a crazy straw rather than giving her a sippy cup. This was my fault; I knew what was going to happen the moment I handed her the juice. Did I really think she was going to listen when I told her “Addison be careful and do not take it to the sofa.”? Why did I give into her request for the lady bug cup? Was it because she was so sick and finally feeling herself or because I wanted to be a “good mommy”? But I am certainly not going to give in to her demand for a time-out. What kind of push over does she think I am?

She is a firecracker. I get it; she is three. She is trying to find her way and establish a sense of self. I like that she’s trying to run circles around me; the key is to not let her know when she has succeeded, or let her see my slight smile of "you-go-girl"approval as I turn away from yet another Addison mini-meltdown.
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Day 46
"Mommy, We Ride"

Toddlerism: The Fashion Nightmare & Day 45. 320 Days Left.

From the moment I heard “it’s a girl” I immediately envisioned pretty ruffled dresses and cute little bows.

Well, she had no hair so pretty dresses it would be.

That was until she hit three; she has become an independent, self-dressing fashion nightmare. Trading her pretty sundress for boy tee shirts, mismatching her dress-up clothes with her everyday clothes, pairing pok-a-dot pants with nightgowns, green striped shirts with pink leggings and red Valentine’s day socks and the socks with sandals statement.

She is always insisting on picking her own clothes and dressing herself. So, I focused my battle--and it is, most days, a battle--on getting her to be weather-appropriate, and let the "fashion" slide.For now.

She will eventually have a sense of fashion right? That is something all girls, at some point, develop- isnt it?

Until then, there is this…

The "it's not a boy shirt" but really it is a boy shirt Armadillo tee she just had to have...and has to be washed every night because she wears it at some point EVERYDAY.


"Mommy- I ready to walk the dogs"


"OK,I ready for bed"

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Day 45.
Blueberries

The Battlegrounds & Day 19. 346 Days Left.

My home has turned into a battlefield.

The wars generally begin in the morning, at the first sight of their orange juice filled sippy cups. Addison has Tinkerbell. Jackson, any one of an assortment of trendy boy cups. Jackson takes sight of Tinkerbell and charges thus causing the first battle of the day.

I guess I see the allure of Tinkerbell. For girls she is a magical fairy. For boys she is a feisty, hot little fairy with great boobies. And for Jackson and his new found obsession of boobies, why not Tinkerbell. Yes, Jackson has become quite obsessed with them, he even discovered a new game; smack mommies boobies. He plays this every time I hold him. Not so fun for mommy but a blast for Jackson. The more I tell him no or pull his hand away, the harder he smacks. Typically leaving my bobbies with tiny red hand prints. Although, they are not Tinkerbell’s. Hers are perky. I want her boobies. (but I digress). To solve this problem Jackson's juice is poured into his very own Tinkerbell cup. So much for the Toy Story, Cars and truck sippy cups. What was the point of buying them?

Battle two takes place in the nursery. If you have seen my pictures you know that there is no lack in the toy department. There is plenty to choose from. So why do they have to grab, push, hit and fight over the same toy? I will never understand. The battle is generally over a Fisher-Price Little People Bus. They have the plane, SUV, horse & carriage, tricycle, and truck. Why can’t they each pick one and be on their happy way? I have yet to find a solution to this problem. Even trying to distract Jackson with another toy or giving him one of the other Little People does not seem to help. He will get up, walk over to Addison and hit her. I can’t imagine where he learned that…

The third battle takes place over any meal. This is always caused by Addison. She will only eat what she thinks is Jackson’s food. Why? I make his meal on the highchair tray only to have to transfer the food onto Addison plate and make Jackson’s tray again. They have the same amount of the same exact food. So why do I have to do this three meals a day? Every. Single. Day. And I do.

The day is played out by a number of other battles; snack time, movie time, coloring, puzzles (which by far are the worse) and more toy battles.

Nap time will also stir-up a war over who is sleeping in what bed. Jackson climbs up on Tinkerbell bed to eat his bottle. Addison gets pissed, throws a fit, pushes and screams to get Jackson off. Why? She never wants to sleep in her bed. Five seconds later, she now wants to sleep in Jackson’s crib. After 30 minutes of fighting an almost one year old and three year old, I get them to sleep in their own beds. They are up 20 minutes later. It takes longer to get them to sleep then they actually sleep.

My personal battle is not to lock each in a different room and open up a bottle of wine at 11am.

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Day 19
Jackson 2 months

And Only 11 Months

Jackson causes destruction wherever he goes and the list grows longer as each day passes…

Gredda’s House (Grandma): One decorative wall plate.

Best Friends House: One monkey nightlight.

Friend’s Moms House: One ceramic decorative bowl.

Friend’s House: One decorative wall plate.

Daddy’s Stuff: One DVD he managed to scratch the hell out of.

Mommy’s Stuff:
One turtle figurine from Key West.
One coffee cup. (don’t worry not full or hot)
One Honeymoon picture frame.
One ceramic magnet.
One cabinet door. Knocked it off banging it open & close (baby proofed!)

Addison’s Stuff:
One light-up Lei.
One Noisy Farm book.
One pair butterfly wings.
One Yo Gabba Gabba train car.
One giant bubble wand. Snapped the handle right off.
Three coloring books. Ripped the pages out.
Handful of crayons he either ate or broke in the process of tyring to.

Jackson’s Stuff: Oh No, he is not bias…
One light up musical cube toy. Which was actually very cool and
both loved playing with the damn thing.


And I would imagine as we approach toddlerism it will only get worse!


For the record: Addison 2 3/4 years later, one glass candle.

Pregnancy Brain, Teething and Soon-to-be-Threes

No, I am NOT pregnant.
I do seem to have the brain that goes along with pregnancy minus the precious little baby growing.

Well, in my case, we can call it stay-at-home-mommy-of-two-toddlers brain.

It is a wonder I manage to get the kids fed and dressed, at all. I have caught myself putting Addison’s pink Princess Pull-Ups on Jackson, giving Addison his bottles, putting Addison in Jackson’s booster seat, going to put Jackson on Elmo potty seat while Addison is looking at me in bewilderment doing her pee-pee dance and even putting the wrong shoes on the other.

As far as around the house; I am now keeping the cereal, bread and peanut butter in the frig and the chocolate syrup, jelly and juice in the pantry because that is where they end up.

Perhaps I can blame the above on the cranky teether and the toddler making a very difficult transition from the Terrible Two’s to the Holy Fuck Three’s.

First the cranky teether; Poor guy screams and rubs his face constantly. Nothing seems to help and I have tried EVERYTHING! Did the Humphreys because so many Mama’s swore by it; like it was magic… “use the Humphreys and you will sleep tonight”. I used the Humphreys and the shit ended up in the trash. Tried frozen carrots and washcloths, Baby Orajel, an assortment of teethers in every color, shape and size (even vibrating), mesh teething bags filled with fresh frozen fruits. Yes, I have tried it all. If it was marketed for teething I purchased it and it probably ended up in the trash. That is except Tylenol. I REFUSE to unnecessarily medicate. Just wondering, how many teeth does a baby need anyway? Really.

Now on to the cranky almost three year old I call my sweet baby girl. AHHHHHH! She is a screaming at the top of her lungs, “NO”, “I WANT”, “IT’s MINE”, “GET IT FOR ME-NOW” temper-tantrum throwing brat disguised as my sweet beautiful little girl. Seriously, what the fuck happened over night?

When people tell you “just wait it only gets worse”, you really have no idea what they mean until you hit worse. Well hello worse, my name is mommy, I am running out of hair to pull now working on the eyebrows. Could you please take it easy on me?

So, sorry hubby. This is why when you get home from work breakfast meats are pulled out rather than dinner and why bath time is all yours and why I am so miserable to deal with come 10:30pm. And from what I understand: It Only Gets Worse!