Tattoos and Drool

The two words every mother dreads

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.

Love letters

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

“essence of cardboard” breakfast cups,
originally uploaded by sam&bex.

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

When do they grow out of this again?

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!)

I’m losing my mind today, I’ve already decided

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.

Already wishing it was Friday

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.