Sunday, March 29, 2009
The twins, on the other hand, did not.
So I brought them into my bed and attempted to snuggle them back to sleep.
It was working well, until they realized I was snuggling them simultaneously.
They share a room, they share clothes, they share DNA. But they will not, repeat NOT, share their mama.
I tried to explain to them that they shared my womb for 8+ months, that my arms and my lap are big enough to accomodate them both, and that even though they're too heavy to carry at the same time, now I can hold each of their hands and walk with them instead.
However, they remained unconvinced.
So my baby boys fought over me this morning. I broke it up, which is difficult to do when you've got 50+ pounds of toddler in a body pile on your torso trying to claim as much mommy territory as possible.
But break them up I did.
The rest of the day was more of the same. It's nice to feel loved, but I must admit this is not the scenario I pictured back in high school when I daydreamed of two cute boys fighting over me. Be careful what you wish for, apparently.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
So now I'm back to my typical frantic morning rush of getting myself out the door with three children constantly underfoot. I don't mind it at all, actually - I love seeing my little hooligans bright and early in the day, when they're still well-rested, happy and relatively clean. (According to Scott, this phase does not last very long.)
By the time I finally announce my departure, the kids are usually seated at the kitchen table, munching away on eggo waffles or whatever the current breakfast item of the day is, with Scott loitering by the coffee pot silently willing it to brew faster.
That's when the protests start.
Ashely has gotten pretty easy to deal with...she and I have a little routine set of action steps that must be completed before she lets me out of her sight. Unfortunately, the routine keeps getting longer and longer. I'm a bit worried about the OCD tendencies of it all, but bygones. Right now, we're up to (1) a kiss, (2) a hug, (3) a pat on the head, (4) a rub on the back, (5) a handshake, and most recently added to the mix, (6) a dance. As long as she doesn't add sit-ups or anything like that, we're all good.
Aidan is easy to say goodbye to most mornings. A quick kiss and a "bye-bye!" is all this boy needs, for the time being, at least.
Owen, on the other hand, is a sneaky little fellow. He gets his kiss, just like Aidan, but then throws a fit when I start to walk away. He hops off his chair, grabs my hand, and won't let go for dear life.
So I started a new routine with him the other day - I let him walk me to the door while holding his hand. Seriously, am I a genius or what?
Don't answer that.
Because instead of me just abandoning him in the kitchen surrounded by his daddy and siblings, my new plan resulted in me having to pry my hand out of his and basically shut the door in his face as I left. Lovely parenting skills, no?
Anyway, I learned from my mistake this morning. Instead of just Owen walking me to the door this morning, Ashley and Aidan jumped in, too, forming a little "goodbye train" moving at toddler speed, with Scott as the caboose. When we got to the door, I derailed and Scott led the train back to the kitchen.
And nobody got upset. Apparently acting like a train is way cooler than hanging on to mommy. Whatever works.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Monday, March 16, 2009
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Some started collecting dishwater debris build-up in their nooks and crannies.
And some were just never fan-favorites with the kids.
But recently, we struck GOLD on a sippy cup purchase. All the kids loved these cups - and we loved them too. They were easy to clean, easy to open, not too big, not too small, etc. etc. These sippy cups were literally top drawer (Side note: We actually did keep them in the top drawer. Don't you just love it when your literallies work correctly? I do!)
Anyhoo, these sippies were fabulous.
But then one of the kids (I'm not naming any names, but his/her name does begin with a vowel, just sayin'), LOST one of the precious cups. We cannot find it anywhere. Which is odd, considering we are pretty confident it was full of milk at the time of the losing.
Because we have not found (or smelled) the missing cup in over a week, Scott headed out to the store to buy replacement sippies. Why did we need to buy replacement sippies for all the cups when only one was lost, you ask?
Well, there are a few implications to having 3 kids so close in age to each other....(i) none of them are rational yet; (ii) they're all still working on the concept of sharing; and (iii) they all have eyes, and if they see their sibling drinking out of a different type of cup, they freak because they want that cup instead. It gets old.
So replacement cups needed to be purchased. But Scott could not find any glorious top drawer sippies to put back into our top drawer. Apparently our favorite sippies must have contained BPA or whatever the new nefarious chemical of the day is, because they have disappeared from the shelves of both our local Wal-Mart and Target.
So Scott picked up some new sippies.
And these sippies suck.
First of all, they have pop-off lids. Which are incredibly hard to open. The other night I tried to give the kids milk with dinner, and I about gave myself an aneurysm trying to pop off the lids. Then when you pop the lid back on, the milk you've just filled it up with gleeks all over you due to some crazy sippy cup vacuum force.
Second, Scott promised Ashley that the yellow sippy would be hers and hers alone, which about caused a mutiny when I gave up after popping two lids and handed the yellow sippy off to Aidan and tried to sneak Ashley a big girl cup.
Third, these sippies are way too small. The boys chugged their milk down in no time flat, and tried to hand them back to me for a refill almost immediately even though I was still recovering from the first pop-off attempt.
So I'm done with these sippies. This weekend it's big kid cups or bust (or another trip to Wal-Mart, at least).
Friday, March 6, 2009
The kids looooooooove their Flintstones. Each morning they gather around me like baby birds, squawking and hopping around excitedly as I dole out their one vitamin each.
Except this morning, I opened the little Flintstones bottle and realized there were only two vitamins left.
For three kids.
Three kids who loooooooooove their vitamins.
I didn't have to do the sugar math to know that that's a bad combination. (Although technically speaking, there is less than 1 g of sugar in each vitamin...I checked).
Owen was the slowest bird of the bunch this morning, so I handed out the two vitamins to Ashley and Aidan and crossed my fingers that he didn't notice.
But he did notice.
He noticed BIG TIME. And he was highly displeased about it (and by "displeased", I mean "seriously pissed off").
But then, I spotted the bag of M&M's on the counter behind me.
I have a feeling there is not less than 1 g of sugar in each m&m (I didn't check).
Oh well. Owen didn't seem to mind.
Don't tell their pediatrician. ;-)
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
This time, the firm let me shack up at a Marriott. And it has free wireless internet! And a BIG television in the room!
But in fairness to B&B's, I must point out that this particular Marriott does not have the fox network on its channel lineup, so I cannot confirm or deny whether Ryan Seacrest had a good hair day on American Idol. Bummer.
I called home today and talked to the kids.
Ashley said to me, "Mommy, will you be my mommy forever and ever and ever?"
That made my day.
I'm sure the twins said something equally as sweet, but considering it was in monkey-language I probably just didn't catch it.
I go home tomorrow and I can't wait.
(But I will miss the big tv).
Monday, March 2, 2009
Apparently, the twins didn't like it very much. I know this because Aidan actually unplugged the TiVo 3/4ths of the way through the recording to put a stop to it. Conveniently for us, the unplugging occured right before the pink elephants on parade scene. And since the TiVo takes FOREVER to reboot, we were able to skip over that particular difficult-to-explain scene.
Man, classic Disney is not for the faint of heart...drunk baby elephants; smoking birds; racist stereotypes; animal abuse; mommies thrown in the slammer...yikes.
But I digress.
Even though the twins were not fans of Dumbo, Ashley seemed to like it a lot. Although to her, it is not "Dumbo" - it is "Jumbo."
"Mommy, look at Jumbo!"
"Mommy, why Jumbo crying?"
"Mommy, why Jumbo's mommy in jail?"
"Mommy, why Jumbo in that house on fire?"
(Seriously, sometimes I can't believe this classic Disney stuff is rated G - that is, unless the "G" stands for "Gee, this is some seriously whacked-out stuff!")
But I digress again.
Anyways, Ashley loooooves her Jumbo.
But since she's still learning to talk properly (and because I'm kind of annoying), I felt like I had to teach her the correct name for her little elephant buddy. As cute as Jumbo sounds, his name is actually Dumbo, and that's all there is to it.
"Ashley, his name is Dumbo, not Jumbo."
"No, mommy. Him Jumbo."
"No, it's Dumbo. D-u-m-b-o."
"No mommy. Him not Dumbo. Him Jumbo."
"Ashley, trust me on this one. I can read and you can't. It's Dumbo."
And then out came the pointer finger.
Ashley is like a little Mariah Carey....when she wants to drive a point home, she closes her eyes, whips out her pointer finger, raises it up and looks like she's going to launch into a high c and sing it on home. Except she doesn't sing - she just gets bossy.
"Mommy, him Jumbo. Hmph!"
I looked back at Scott in the kitchen who was watching us with amusement, and I rolled my eyes at our silly little girl. Except then he said:
"Actually, his name is Jumbo. His mom named him Jumbo Jr. The other elephants call him Dumbo to be mean."
Oh. Well didn't I feel sheepish.
Poor little Jumbo/Dumbo. At least he has a staunch defender in my Ashley. Hopefully she'll still stand up for the downtrodden once she hits kindergarten.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
I took calculus in college. And I even did well in it.
But I did not retain it.
Now all I know how to do...is sugar math.
3 of Nana's Cupcakes
3 Children Aged Three and Under
1 Exhausted Daddy
(and 1 mommy that's grateful she only had to shoot the video)