Wordless Wednesday

The peanut had a rough weekend:

I did some laundry

Yesterday I washed, folded, and put away 7 loads of laundry.  7 huge loads of laundry.  I try to do laundry 2-3 times a week, but I'm thinking I got a little behind because that was an above-average laundry day for me.  At the end of the day the piles were so high on my bed, and I had everything balanced just right to not fall to the floor I nearly had a heart attack when Joey came bounding in the room to climb on the bed.  Lucky for me, he didn't make it that far before I grabbed him and tossed carefully carried him out of the room.

Not Me! Monday

Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.

I did not leave my daughter unattended for longer than I should have, only to find her in the kitchen eating playing with dog food.  I did not then decide that she is ready to eat animal crackers based on the fact that they are less crunchy than the dog food, and she didn't choke on that...

I did not get so frustrated with my two year old telling me, "my no like that toy," for the 100th time, that I tossed his toys into a trash bag and threw it out the front door. That would be cruel and unusual punishment, and there is no way he would understand that.

I did not put off planning a healthy meal and order fast food for my family.  Again.  Nope, not me.

I did not buy yet another stroller on Craigslist.  I have enough strollers.  I definately did not need another one.  So I did not buy it, and it is definately not in the back of my car as I write this post.

I did not have a less-than private argument with my husband while walking at the park, and accidentally ram a stroller into the back of his foot out of anger.  That would be a terrible thing to do, wouldn't it?  I didn't do that.  And he did not storm off and walk in the other direction until I was ready to behave myself.  We get along perfectly ALL the time, so nothing like that happened.

Oh, and I am so not looking forward to watching Dancing With the Stars tonight.  I do not care how well Kate Gosslin, Pam Anderson, or The Batchelor do.  I have way more important things to worry about, and I did not already set it up to DVR so I don't miss a minute of it!

So there you have it.  Is there anything that you have not done lately that you feel like sharing?

Snack Attack

Want to see what Katelyn is up to?  Here's a little photo story of my busy girl stealing stuff from my diaper bag:

Oh, mommy's bag.  There must be something good in here.

Uh oh, she's on to me.  I'd better just smile real cute, and act like I'm not doin' nothin'.

Ok, I got the goods.  Time to make for a fast getaway.

Hey sis, I'll share these with you if you help me open the package...

On second thought, I think I'd rather figure it out on my own and keep them to myself.  I'll just hold them way over here until she forgets and moves on...

Now's my moment.  How hard could it be???

Bribery

All moms bribe their kids.  Those that say they don't are lying.  Seriously.  Bribery is a neccessary little trick in the back pocket of every mom. (and dad too!)  I have found that most melt downs can be prevented with a sneaky little bribe.  The good news is that Joey made it through the day without very many melt downs.  The bad news is that Joey was bribed a lot today.  Like, a lot more than usual.  I'm going to recount all the ways that we bribed him and vow to do less of it tomorrow:

• Joey wanted to go to the park.  Mommy and Daddy wanted to drive around looking at real estate.  Mommy bought Joey a doughnut and apple juice (breakfast of champions) so he would quietly watch Toy Story in the car while we drove around looking at houses.  Then we went to the park.
• Joey wanted to stay at the park.  Katelyn, Olivia, Mommy, and Daddy had had enough of the park.  I told Joey if he stopped whining and got in the car without a fuss he could play with my headset.  (he thinks this is "vewry fun.")
• Joey didn't want to eat his grilled cheese sandwich for lunch.  Daddy told Joey if he ate 2 more bites he could have a pear.  (he's a fruit addict.)
• Joey didn't want to take a nap.  It was sooooo nap time.  Mommy told Joey if he went to sleep she would take him for a walk when he woke up.
• Joey wanted a cookie before dinner.  What he really needed to do was go potty and wash his hands after more playing at the park.  Mommy told Joey if he went potty and washed his hands he could have his cookie.  Before dinner. (gasp!)
• Joey came accross Aladdin on TV after dinner.  He wanted to watch it instead of getting ready for bed.  Daddy told Joey that he would pause Aladdin while he was in the bath and getting his jammies on, and he could watch it before bed.
• Joey did not want to go to bed because he was still watching Aladdin.  Daddy told Joey that he would pause Aladdin all night long, and he could watch it in the morning. (the magic of DVR at work...)

So there you have it.  7 ways that we reasoned with our two-year old through bribery today.  And those are just the ones that I can think of right now.  There are definately could be more.

Now spill it!  What are some ways that you've bribed your child lately??? I need some new ideas to hear that other moms do this so I don't feel so alone.

Getting Snubbed

We all know what it feels like to get "snubbed" by someone who you thought enjoyed your company.  I think it happens to all of us at some point in life. (middle school, anyone?)  Well, yesterday I experienced a snub reminiscent of my middle school days.

My nephew, Matthew loves a party.  He uses any holiday as an excuse to throw a party, and St. Patrick's Day was no different.  So I dressed my kiddos in their St. Pattie's Day shirts, made some green cupcakes, loaded the little ones up in the wagon, and walked across the complex to my sister's apartment.  We feasted on green spaghetti (a real Irish meal, I know), and had a great time.  Matthew set the table with festive Shamrock ribbons, and even made a poster to celebrate the occasion.  He was pretty freakin' adorable.

As the evening concluded and my children were ready for bed we packed up our stuff, reloaded the wagon with children, and headed for home.  Tyler, my 12-year old nephew was outside on his bike.  I figured we'd cross paths with him on our walk.  We did, only it did not go the way I thought it would.  Tyler was standing with his bike talking to 3 other tweenage boys on their bikes.  Ron whispered to me that Tyler had been looking for a way to strike up a conversation with these kids all evening.  As we got closer, I fully expected Tyler to at least turn and wave goodbye to us.  Not so much.  That little twerp didn't even make eye contact.  In fact, everytime I turned to look at him he'd look away.  In disbelief that I was suddenly not cool enough to be acknowledged I said to Ron, "should we say goodbye to him?"  Ron, having been a 12-year old boy at one point in time, said, "No way.  It would be like so NOT cool of him to talk to us right now."  So we walked right by, didn't even exchange glances, not a wink, not a wave, nothin'.  We were officially snubbed.

The First Step

Is admitting you have a problem.  And I do.  I have a serious stroller addiction.  I'm always on a mission to find "the perfect one."  However, I have recently resolved myself to the fact that it doesn't exist.  There is no perfect stroller.  Not for one baby.  Not for two.  And certainly not for three.  Knowing that fact does not stop me though.  Even if there isn't a perfect stroller, there has to be one that's pretty damn close, right?  Another important fact in my rationalization of this extremely irrational behavior is that stroller needs change as children change and grow.  For example, the stroller that I used most often when my babies were newborns is no longer suitable for life with almost 1-year old twins.  I won't bore you with the details; just take my word for it.
So I bought another one yesterday.  That purchase brings our grand total of strollers acquired to 9.  Our current total of strollers in our possession is 6.  3 single, 3 double.  Plus a wagon.  I think this apartment has more devices for carrying and/or holding children than anything else, actually.  Upon my return with our new stroller yesterday Ron said, "The rule is if you bring one home, you have to get rid of one of the one's we have."  I agree with that rule to an extent.  Part of me wants to hold on to all of the strollers.  I don't know why.  Maybe I'm worried we'll need it again, and if I get rid of it I'll be out to buy ANOTHER one.  Or maybe it's the memories of my children riding in these strollers that make me want to keep them forever.  I think that's probably it.  But my husband is right.  6 strollers is too many, and our space is limited right now so one has to go.  But I'll admit that I felt twinges of sadness as I prepared my beloved Combi for it's departure this afternoon.  All I could picture as I wiped it down and vacuumed the cheerios out of it was my 11-week old twins being transported around Disney World in the hot June sun last year.

Well, it's going up on Craigslist in a couple of hours after the seat cushions are out of the wash.  And while I was washing those, I decided to wash the car seat and high chair covers too.  Then I decided I'd install Katelyn's new car seat, so I might as well clean the bases of the old ones.  One thing led to another, and I decided I'd wash up the new stroller too.  (It isn't actually new, it's a Craigslist purchase) and here is what my livingroom looks like at the moment:

2 strollers, 2 carseats, and a mish-mosh of toys.  Not too bad, right?  Well, there is another carseat and two additional strollers on our front stoop waiting to be stored/cleaned/installed/sold.  I'd better stop typing and get to work before my kids wake up and/or my husband gets home and commits me.

Please Excuse My Absence

Just wanted to pop on here real quick to update ya'll on a few things:

• I've been a bad blogger here for a few reasons, including but not limited to: Olivia having an ear infection last week, Joey turning into a 2.5 year old tantrum-throwing monster, Katelyn getting sick later in the week, me spraining my ankle, etc. etc. etc.  The list goes on...
• Olivia is feeling better now, and appears to be turning into an easy-going happy girl.  I'm relieved because I feel like she spent the first 9-10 months of her life crying.  Now she just smiles, giggles, plays with her cups, and says, "hi," whenever we look at her!
• Joey's hair has finally gotten long enough where I think we should cut it.  It's borderline mullet, actually.
• Poor little Katie-bug is not feeling well at all.  I took her to the doctor on Friday (after being there on Monday with Olivia!) and it looked like a virus.  She's had a miserable weekend and I'm taking her back tomorrow.  With a fever of 103, I'm guessing she's got an ear infection or two.
• I have not stopped blogging, as some of you have inquired about, I've simply been busy being mom.  I'll be back ASAP, and I've even got another fun giveaway coming up!

This Could Be Dangerous...

Last night I got together with a group of my new mommy friends for a much-needed Mom's Night Out.  We had some wine (of course...), snacks, and made the most adorable tutus and matching headbands for our girls.  Oh, how I just love having girls...

As I shopped for the supplies the night before it dawned on me that I have not made one craft project for myself or anyone else since our move in October.  How sad is that?  Well, one night with some tulle, flowers, and rhinestones was all it took for me to get my groove back.  Here is a little preview of my new obsession:

Why am I not posting a pic of my cute babies in their cute tutus???  Because I only have one finished, so you'll just have to stay tuned for the real deal...

A Day at the Museum

One of the best things about being a parent is seeing the world through the eyes of your children.  Since Joey was very young, Ron and I have always found a simple joy in bringing him to new and exciting places.  He loves animals, play-equipment, and nature so when we discovered the Museum of Life and Science in Durham it was a little like hitting the jackpot.  They've got it all.

Today was our second visit to the museum.  We became members last time we were there, and that gave us the privilege of bringing along some friends -my sister and her three boys.  All of the kids had a great time, and I did too.  Even the babies watched in wonder as the butterflies roamed freely around their stroller, the cow moo-d in their faces, and Tyler, Matthew, Jack, and Joey ran from one thing to the next.  Here are some pictures of our day:

This is the only way to get a picture of my three kids together.  The backs of their heads.  Aren't they adorable?

Fascinated Jack.

The cheapest souvenier:  a penny smooshing machine with a dinosaur imprint.

Tyler might just be a photographer some day:

Blue-eyed beauty:

A mirror.

Refusing to look at me.  Yes, she always sits that way.  Looks comfy, huh?

It's no wonder my children are gorgeous.  Look at this guy:

A goat.  A really big goat.

Trying to be a "real" photographer.

Tyler had a hitch-hiking butterfly on his back the whole time in the butterfly house!

Matthew wore his lab coat, since we were going to a "science museum."

Another attempt at "real" photography:

My beautiful boy:

Sleeping in the Pack N Play

I love my blog.  It gives me the opportunity to share the funny (and not so funny) things that my family does.  On some days, my blog feels like my only connection to the outside world.  It's a welcome treat from the world of diapers, sippy cups, nap schedules, and everything else.  I know how pathetic that sounds, but sadly, it's true.  At least once a day my children do something that makes me think to myself, "I've got to put that on the blog."  Well today, it wasn't my child.  Today I feel compelled to share how funny someone else's child can be.

My nephew Jack is a silly, adorable, big, burly 2-year old.  Joey and he are as different as night and day, but they are good buddies nonetheless.  Once a week I babysit Jack so his mommy can get some much-deserved time for herself.  Unlike any of my children, Jack is very flexible when it comes to sleep habits.  He will go down for a nap at any given time, and in any given place.  This makes it super easy to babysit him at naptime like I did today.  It's like a no-fuss guarantee.  I give him a hug and a kiss, hoist him into the Pack N Play, cover him up, and he goes to sleep.  Then I'm off to go through Joey's 18-step process of settling in for a nap.

Shortly after I put Jack in the Pack N Play I hear him calling out for me.  As with any children under my watch, I give him a couple of minutes before going in.  He quieted down and I assumed went to sleep.  My sister (Jack's mother) insisted that I check on him during nap time because he bumped his head this morning.  So, while it's typically against my policy to check on sleeping children (not because I don't care; simply because it usually wakes mine), I quietly opened the door to peek in on my napping guest.  This is what I saw:

At first glance all I saw was the pink sheet with nothing on it.  My heart sank as I officially declared myself "The World's Worst Babysitter," thinking I'd lost one that wasn't even mine.  As I proceeded into the room to begin my search for Jack, I got a closer look:

I was both relieved and astonished to discover that Jack had wedged himself between the fitted sheet and the Pack N Play mattress.  Now, if you've ever met Jack you'd understand what I mean when I say that for him to "wedge" himself anywhere is no small feat.  He is not compact or petite in the least.  But there he was, sound asleep with just his gorgeous red hair and sweet little face exposed.

Intrigued about the antics of yet another red-head in this family?  Head on over to Operation Sippy Cup to read more about what Jack and his big brothers are up to.

A Surprise in the Tub

First of all, some readers may find this blog post disturbing.  This is my real life.  Not a ficitional tale.  And because of that, I feel compelled to tell it like it is.  And this story is exactly that.  My life, like it is.

Joey drinks bath water.  There, I've said it out loud.  Sometimes when I admit not-so-adorable things about my children I feel embarrassed, guilty, or ashamed.  Today I just feel relief.  My son drinks bath water.  I've tried to stop him.  I tell him it's "yucky," and not to do it but I'm pretty sure that just makes it more appealing to him.  So I ignore him as he announces, "My drink the water, Mom."  I continue to act as I can't hear him when he says, "My like it, Mom.  My like the water."  He'll even go as far as saying things like, "It's not yucky."  I've come to learn that this is simply an attention-seeking behavior and the best way to deter him from drinking bath water is to ignore the fact that he is doing it.

He does not drink bath water during every bath.  Only on days when he feels like he is getting less than his fair-share of my attention.  Yesterday was one of those days.  So the drinking of the bath water took place in full attention-seeking fashion.  Whatever, life goes on.  It's not pretty, I know.  But there are far worse activities that my son could (and probably will) engage in, and I'm picking my battles.  I bathed all three kids, pulled them each out of the tub to begin getting ready for bed and pulled the plug.  As the water drained out of the tub, I tossed the toys into the hanging basket.  A duck, a boat, a little pirate guy, some various cups.  They all went into the basket.  I continued cleaning up as my husband corraled our sweet-smelling children for dressing.  I pulled up a corner of the tub mat, gave it a yank, and hung it over the side of the tub to dry.  As I did this, something flung off of it.  A toy I forgot.  Distracted by the noise my children were making in the next room, and thinking of my frazzled husband, I reached for it.  Only it wasn't a toy.  Nope.  It was a poop.  A small, marble-sized poop.

"Um, honey?  Are the kids dressed yet?"  I called to my husband.
"Almost. Why?"
"Because I think we should rinse them off."
"What?  Why?"
"There's poop in the tub.  I bathed them in poop water."

My husband's answer was that of any typical dad with three small children who would do anything to avoid undressing each child, rinsing them off in non-poop water, and dressing them again.  At bedtime.  He said, "Well it was probably Olivia's poop, and she was the last one in, and didn't spend much time in there at all."

I responded, "Hmmm.  Well that's true.  And I had already rinsed Joey off at that point, so he only sat in the poop water for a few minutes before I got him out."  This way of thinking was completely rational to us both.

"Right," Ron said.  "I think they're fine," he assured me.

We proceeded to put the children to bed, then as we were relaxing on the couch watching American Idol, (in horror) I began wondering if we did the right thing.  It was at that moment that I remembered the drinking of the bath water.  So today I write this to admit that not only does my son drink bath water.  He drinks poopy bath water.  And I let him.