What are you looking at?

This morning wasn't a morning I'm proud of. Every time I turned around someone was throwing a temper tantrum. There was one over a pair of socks that wasn't put on, because someone didn't want to go to the bathroom, because that same someone didn't want to get dressed, put on shoes, eat breakfast, carry his backpack, etc. There were more tantrums than I can count.

You'd think, ah a typical day in the life of a three year old, right? Yeah. Except that the three year old wasn't the one having the tantrums. It was me. I don't wonder where my child learned the art of being so difficult. I only have to look in the mirror to see it.

I was very grateful for time with my friends this morning. Time where I was able to look back and reflect on how I failed this morning, and know that it doesn't matter. Little Monster went to school and had a wonderful day. He was able to get a break from my psychotic behavior, and spend time having fun while learning. By the time he came home, he had his normal Mommy back.

What was my problem this morning? I'm pretty sure I was focused on myself and how "bad" I have it.. I mean, it's rained for how many days now? We were SICK the last day of sunshine.. And NOW the MALL is going to be a pipe dream at best for Friday. Friday, which I thought was going to be a day where I could leave Little Monster in school for the entire day and go shopping is pretty much cancelled. Friday school is closed. The malls are all flooded. Poor, Poor Mary can't go to the mall to get a bear re-stuffed and buy jammies for the baby. Don't you feel sorry for me?

Never mind the fact that I'm lucky enough to still have power and be in a warm, DRY house. Never mind the fact that we have a stable income and my husband has a steady job. It isn't important at all that we have MONEY to buy things like pajamas and food. Forget that the children are healthy or that we recovered from the yuck that hung over our house.

I was focused on the negative. The dark sky. I didn't even noticed that it had stopped raining.

This morning, I was able to remember that I should be focused on what is good in my life, and how much of it is a direct blessing from God. Thank You.

Now, let's hope tomorrow the person acting like they're three is actually three!

A Typical Tuesday

Do you remember this? Probably not. Go ahead. Read it. See how horrible we are.

Fast forward to this morning.

It was a typical morning, a messy diaper change while the dog was outside. After letting the dog back in from outside, I gave Butterball her breakfast and lay semi-conscious on the couch while she ate, threw her juice cup onto the floor, and teased the dog with endless amounts of corn pops and banana waiting for Little Monster to wake up. As Little Monster came out of his room, groggy from sleep, I noticed it. Butterball's apple juice cup had leaked on the floor, directly under her high chair. I bent down and touched it, thinking it was odd that the puddle was pretty far away from the cup, which still had juice in it. The puddle was warm. It smelled of urine. Warm. Urine.

OH NO HE DIDN'T!

Yes. He did. Our dog left a wet spot in the living room. Not only did he do it under the baby's high chair while waiting for her to drop breakfast on the floor for him, he did it while I was IN THE ROOM! How I missed it, I didn't know. It must have happened while they were talking about something fascinating on the news.

After a few words I'm not proud of, perhaps at a volume that I definitely I'm not proud of, the dog was in his kennel. Ugh. I cleaned up the puddle, still grumbling things that I hope the kids didn't hear.

Then, Butterball started signaling that she was all done with breakfast. She waved her hands about and proclaimed "aaa duuuuuh!!!!" (Can you believe she says ALL DONE?! I can't!) I pulled her out of her high chair and snuggled her... I hadn't snapped her onesie after the diaper change, so I lifted it up to blow raspberries on her belly and as I leaned in, cheeks puffed and ready, listening for the excited giggles of a ten month old baby girl, I noticed it. Something looked wrong. SHE WASN'T WEARING A DIAPER.

So, that puddle. That pee. That wasn't the dog's fault. It was mine.

Lessons learned this morning:

• A diaper change is not actually a diaper change unless the old diaper is replaced with a new one. Without the new diaper, it's just diaper removal.
• DIAPER REMOVAL is not recommended for children who are only 10 months old. You should definitely always complete the diaper change.
• Coffee timers should be set the night before to avoid repeats of the lessons above. Or worse.

The time flies!

I can't believe how quickly time is passing. **Warning! A maximum amount of cheesy content is below! Maybe it's the rain and gloom today? But seriously. Cheese Alert!**


I was reading some of my older entries about weaning Little Monster the other day, since, we are getting close to that time with Butterball. It seems that time changes your perception of things. I always thought that Little Monster slept through the night by about 7 months, but it turns out that he wasn't really. I thought I nursed him until a year, but really he was weaned by about 10 months. It must be something God does so that we'll continue to want more children even after enduring months of pain during pregnancy, hours and days of even more pain during delivery, and then months or maybe years of sleep deprivation along with massive amounts of horrid laundry, dishes, and constant cleaning just to keep up.

Butterball is no where near being weaned. She's still nursing four times per day, and then at least once at night. What's a mom to do? I don't enjoy getting up in the middle of the night to be a pacifier. However, I'm not sure I'm ready to give up nursing her. She's our last baby and there's something about that fact that keeps me wanting her to remain a baby.

She is, however doing everything in her power to remind me that babies grow up -- quickly. She's already begun walking. Just last night I caught her walking from the kitchen all the way down the hall to her brother's bedroom. This morning as my friends were leaving, she held her hand out to wave and said "buh buh" I'm not sure if she was calling my friends name or saying "bye bye" but either way. She also has begun letting out wails of MAAAAA MAAAAA in an utterly pathetic tone when I leave her in her bed for naps and she thinks she isn't tired yet.

This morning she nearly ripped my heart out when she cried for me. She's eating real foods now. She's mastered a sippy cup. And she has opinions. She's not afraid to share her opinions either. This week she's figured out that if she waves here hands just so, I'll ask her if she's all done, and take her out of the high chair. She giggles uncontrollably when her brother make silly sounds. You should see how she adores him. It's crazy.

Little Monster adores his preschool. Almost as much as I do. He's younger than most of the kids in his class since he joined mid-year, but he's doing pretty well as far as I know. He's come home with a few new habits, some good --like washing his hands without complaint. Just the other day he announced that March starts with M. And he's begun being an amazing helper at home. Just last night he set the table for dinner. On his own. Without any kind of prompting or direction. They must teach manners at this school of his. Either that or he was very hungry. He's grown into such a little boy, not nearly the baby that I knew only a little more than a year ago.

With all the bad in our world, I know I'm truly blessed to be a witness to these kids growing up. I hope that time will slow down just a bit though. I like what I'm seeing.