Not-so-cute Austin
"Revenge of the Nap-time Toddler"
Artist - Austin
Medium - poo on wall
Price - one good size spank and 45 min. clean up
Apparently he is available for replications during any nap time...to the chagrin of his mother.
Friday, February 23, 2007
Monday, February 19, 2007
Nutella is taking over my life. I'd like to blame it on something...anything. Like Robert buying 10 gallons of it at Costco. Or the upcoming Valentine's Day by myself. Or not having contact with adults. But truth be told, I just love the junk. Love it. I spent all morning scouring through my cupboard, trying to find things that would taste good with nutella. Bread..obvious first choice. Cheerios? Hmm...maybe. Canned fruit...why not? Spaghetti? raisins? Pretzels? Gold fish? You can see how consumed I am. Because I have truly saturated myself with the stuff all week, I decided to quit Nutella, cold-turkey. It's harder than I thought it would be. I started off with the plan of eating the fresh seedless green grapes that I bought yesterday anytime I wanted my Nutella. Now, it is only 3 and I have gorged myself on the grapes. I feel sick to the stomach anytime I look at something green. Now that can't be more healthy than a spoonful of chocolate, could it?
I wrote that little blurb a few days ago, and I have to tell you, I'm still on my Nutella kick. I was actually able to go a few days without it because I substituted it with a pan of brownies. But now that I've munched that gone, I really think I'll have some Nutella toast. yum.
ode to nutella
this week I'm raising the kids a cappella
but sadly I'm no Cinderella
when the kids are all sleeping
And I should be sweeping
I'm stuffing my face with nutella
A little note about our red-head. Ethan's hair grows like a weed. He has beautiful, thick, soft, red hair. It really is gorgeous. But it eventually comes to a point where it becomes unmanageable and we are forced to buzz it off. We'd only just trim it if cutting it wasn't such a huge sensory nightmare for him. So we wait as long as possible and then shave it to a number 2. Today was the day for shaving and so we started talking about it early. "Hey, Ethan. I have a GREAT idea! Why don't we cut your hair?!" Comments all made with huge amounts of enthusiasm and exaggerated gestures. After a couple of hours we've gott
en him giddy with anticipation. He happily bounds into the bathroom chanting our now familiar mantra, "Let's cut our hair...what a GREAT idea!" He pull me in behind him and we settle down on the side of the tub...Ethan sitting merrily on my lap. The moment Rob pulls out the ol' shaver and turns it on, Ethan's smile disappears replaced by a decidedly nervous grin. As the buzz continues and Robert comes closer, Ethan's nervous enthusiasm turns to anxious whimpers. Then, second before the first cut he yells out, "Stop! This is NOT a GREAT idea!" Maybe not, but it sure looked cute.
I wrote that little blurb a few days ago, and I have to tell you, I'm still on my Nutella kick. I was actually able to go a few days without it because I substituted it with a pan of brownies. But now that I've munched that gone, I really think I'll have some Nutella toast. yum.
ode to nutella
this week I'm raising the kids a cappella
but sadly I'm no Cinderella
when the kids are all sleeping
And I should be sweeping
I'm stuffing my face with nutella
A little note about our red-head. Ethan's hair grows like a weed. He has beautiful, thick, soft, red hair. It really is gorgeous. But it eventually comes to a point where it becomes unmanageable and we are forced to buzz it off. We'd only just trim it if cutting it wasn't such a huge sensory nightmare for him. So we wait as long as possible and then shave it to a number 2. Today was the day for shaving and so we started talking about it early. "Hey, Ethan. I have a GREAT idea! Why don't we cut your hair?!" Comments all made with huge amounts of enthusiasm and exaggerated gestures. After a couple of hours we've gott
en him giddy with anticipation. He happily bounds into the bathroom chanting our now familiar mantra, "Let's cut our hair...what a GREAT idea!" He pull me in behind him and we settle down on the side of the tub...Ethan sitting merrily on my lap. The moment Rob pulls out the ol' shaver and turns it on, Ethan's smile disappears replaced by a decidedly nervous grin. As the buzz continues and Robert comes closer, Ethan's nervous enthusiasm turns to anxious whimpers. Then, second before the first cut he yells out, "Stop! This is NOT a GREAT idea!" Maybe not, but it sure looked cute.
Saturday, February 17, 2007
***WARNING*** The following blog is really just one major self pity fest, so I'd recommend not reading it and skipping on to a post with happy pictures. You've been warned****
When will it end?
I'm not quite sure how long this potty training nightmare is going to continue...but if these measly twins don't get the hang of it soon, I am going to completely lose it. And I'm walking the line as it is.
Truthfully, Alaina is doing pretty good. She'll have an accident every now and then, but she's improving. Austin, on the other hand, has become the bane of my existence. The boy just doesn't get the whole 'holding it' thing. And despite the fact that I personally walk him to the toilet every 15-20 mins he still manages to pee through his pants inbetween toilet times. I've never seen so much pee. yesterday he practically flooded the place. Exactly 21 minutes after he had completely emptied his bladder I came upon a natural disaster. In the kitchen there was this huge lake-size puddle...wet footprints leading to the other side of the kitchen and a second equally massive puddle...and more water footprints leading into the living room. Now, I'm no CSI, but the evidence was clearly pointing at the crying Austin in the living room. What a pill. But...this I can handle. I hate it, but I'm hoping it won't last forever.
Today, however, he did something I couldn't handle.
The twins have decided that they don't need to nap anymore. Ethan is still taking 3 hour naps. To give myself a modicum of peace, I've decided to let the twins have quiet time in their rooms during most of Ethan's nap. Since I'm not going in their rooms every 15 min. I put them in diapers.
When I went to go check the boy this afternoon, he had his hands out in front of him like he had hurt himself. I quickly grabbed his hands and gave them a quick kiss. As soon as I looked past him into the room I wanted to wash my mouth out with bleach. The floor was covered in pudgy hand smears of poo. It covered half the floor. The bed posts and head board was caked in it. Book covers were smeared brown. It was a poo massacre. Why did I sign up for this job? I was livid. I swear if I could have seen my face it would have been technicolored. First white, then green, then red.
The next 15 minutes were probably not my best motherhood moments. All the things you aren't suppose to say or do...yeah, I was saying 'em and I was doing 'em. After I cleaned Austin up I made him sit there and watch me wet-vac the floor. Off I went, ranting and raving and giving a few swats on the bare bum to accentuate my points. In the middle of my triad I realized that I have definitely spent too much time with these kids. Instead of yelling like any normal crazy, hysterical woman, I realized that I was starting to yell in Dr. Seuss. That's right. This is seriously what I was yelling, "You do not put poo on the floor. You do not put poo on the books or on the door. You do not put poo on the bed. You do not put poo in your hair...you do not put poo anywhere!" Doesn't that sound a little like "Green Eggs and Ham?"
That realization earned a wry grimace to myself, but I still wasn't in the mood to think it was funny yet.
So. Now I am breathing a little more regularly...but I am literally counting the minutes until Robert will walk through the door. 2 hours and 54 minutes. If he isn't a minute late, of course. For his sake, I really hope he's on time :) You don't want to cross a jaded Dr. Seuss imitator.
When will it end?
I'm not quite sure how long this potty training nightmare is going to continue...but if these measly twins don't get the hang of it soon, I am going to completely lose it. And I'm walking the line as it is.
Truthfully, Alaina is doing pretty good. She'll have an accident every now and then, but she's improving. Austin, on the other hand, has become the bane of my existence. The boy just doesn't get the whole 'holding it' thing. And despite the fact that I personally walk him to the toilet every 15-20 mins he still manages to pee through his pants inbetween toilet times. I've never seen so much pee. yesterday he practically flooded the place. Exactly 21 minutes after he had completely emptied his bladder I came upon a natural disaster. In the kitchen there was this huge lake-size puddle...wet footprints leading to the other side of the kitchen and a second equally massive puddle...and more water footprints leading into the living room. Now, I'm no CSI, but the evidence was clearly pointing at the crying Austin in the living room. What a pill. But...this I can handle. I hate it, but I'm hoping it won't last forever.
Today, however, he did something I couldn't handle.
The twins have decided that they don't need to nap anymore. Ethan is still taking 3 hour naps. To give myself a modicum of peace, I've decided to let the twins have quiet time in their rooms during most of Ethan's nap. Since I'm not going in their rooms every 15 min. I put them in diapers.
When I went to go check the boy this afternoon, he had his hands out in front of him like he had hurt himself. I quickly grabbed his hands and gave them a quick kiss. As soon as I looked past him into the room I wanted to wash my mouth out with bleach. The floor was covered in pudgy hand smears of poo. It covered half the floor. The bed posts and head board was caked in it. Book covers were smeared brown. It was a poo massacre. Why did I sign up for this job? I was livid. I swear if I could have seen my face it would have been technicolored. First white, then green, then red.
The next 15 minutes were probably not my best motherhood moments. All the things you aren't suppose to say or do...yeah, I was saying 'em and I was doing 'em. After I cleaned Austin up I made him sit there and watch me wet-vac the floor. Off I went, ranting and raving and giving a few swats on the bare bum to accentuate my points. In the middle of my triad I realized that I have definitely spent too much time with these kids. Instead of yelling like any normal crazy, hysterical woman, I realized that I was starting to yell in Dr. Seuss. That's right. This is seriously what I was yelling, "You do not put poo on the floor. You do not put poo on the books or on the door. You do not put poo on the bed. You do not put poo in your hair...you do not put poo anywhere!" Doesn't that sound a little like "Green Eggs and Ham?"
That realization earned a wry grimace to myself, but I still wasn't in the mood to think it was funny yet.
So. Now I am breathing a little more regularly...but I am literally counting the minutes until Robert will walk through the door. 2 hours and 54 minutes. If he isn't a minute late, of course. For his sake, I really hope he's on time :) You don't want to cross a jaded Dr. Seuss imitator.
Monday, February 12, 2007
Limerick Time
And now for your reading pleasure, I decided to whip up some limericks. I've been reading a book of nursery rhymes kids and I can't get them out of my head. Now, I challenge anyone to write more of these silly little poems and I'll post them. After America votes, the best limerick will be ***awarded $1,000,000. Just think of all the vacations you could take on that kind of cash. Write in your entry now!
There once were three kids who were naughty
Who refused to go pee on the potty
But thought that instead
They’d go right on the bed
Until all of my sheets became soggy
Alaina knows how to be coy
she knows all the moves to employ
despite dad's intentions
or her brothers protection
she'll always be chasing the boys
My blue eyed, shy little lover
he melts the heart like none other
he craves the attention
of all who would hold him
but the one he loves most is his mother :)
Ethan's a live little wire
such a loud, funny, spit-ball of fire
if he wasn't so sweet
when he sleeps and he eats
I'd look for a way to retire
***all winners subject to, but not limited to, the sole discretion of Christy Jones, who may or may not actually have $1,000,000 pending the winning of the north Carolina lottery. Ms. Jones is not liable for any poorly written or plagiarized material that may end up in this fictitious competition. Any questions as to the validity of your winnings, please contact Ms. Jones' big-time lawyer, Mr. Spencer Scribner
And now for your reading pleasure, I decided to whip up some limericks. I've been reading a book of nursery rhymes kids and I can't get them out of my head. Now, I challenge anyone to write more of these silly little poems and I'll post them. After America votes, the best limerick will be ***awarded $1,000,000. Just think of all the vacations you could take on that kind of cash. Write in your entry now!
There once were three kids who were naughty
Who refused to go pee on the potty
But thought that instead
They’d go right on the bed
Until all of my sheets became soggy
Alaina knows how to be coy
she knows all the moves to employ
despite dad's intentions
or her brothers protection
she'll always be chasing the boys
My blue eyed, shy little lover
he melts the heart like none other
he craves the attention
of all who would hold him
but the one he loves most is his mother :)
Ethan's a live little wire
such a loud, funny, spit-ball of fire
if he wasn't so sweet
when he sleeps and he eats
I'd look for a way to retire
***all winners subject to, but not limited to, the sole discretion of Christy Jones, who may or may not actually have $1,000,000 pending the winning of the north Carolina lottery. Ms. Jones is not liable for any poorly written or plagiarized material that may end up in this fictitious competition. Any questions as to the validity of your winnings, please contact Ms. Jones' big-time lawyer, Mr. Spencer Scribner
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Inspired by a scared straight article about clutter, this morning I went on a cleaning frenzy. I was engrossed in sorting the childrens books when Ethan appeared next to me. In his hands he held an offering of a yellow highlighter straight out in front of him. He looked so quilty that I immediately knew something was damaged. I grabbed the pen and rushed into the other room, demanding the kids to tell me what was done with the highlighter.
All three pointed at a book that now had important pictures highlighted in yellow. When I asked who did the scribbles Ethan pointed to Austin and shouted, "Austin did it!" Austin pointed at Alaina and shouted, "Alaina did it!" Alaina pointed back at Ethan and shouted, "Ethan did it!" Ahhh, the classic three-way stand-off. Seeing how the damage was pretty minimal I feinted a very upset and disappointed face and insisted that all three sit on time-out for the crime. After a good 5 minutes I later I walked back to talk to the kids.
I was feeling pretty good about myself. The kids weren't too naughty, and yet I was able to teach a good lesson about being honest and not drawing with a pen on anything but paper. In this manner of thinking, I approached Alaina first. I explained to them how important it was to take responsibility for their actions and not just blame the person next to them. "So, why are you on time-out, Lainy?" In quiet, repentant voice she says, "Because I drew on the book with a pen." (Ah-ha! The true culprit comes out) I turn to Austin, ready to chastise him for lying and say, "And why are you on time out?" Austin quietly says, "Because I drew on the TV." What!!!!??? This has taken me by surprise and I rush over to see the damage. There it is...writing all over the new TV. Thankfully, it wipes off without too much trouble. Finally I approach Ethan and a little uneasily ask, "And why are you on time-out?" Ethan is catching on to this honesty thing and happily blurts out, "Because I drew on the wall." WHAT!!!! Sure enough, there it was. The main problem was that I had already disciplined them and really had no where to go with all these sudden discoveries. "OK...then. Um. I accept your apologies. I guess." Serves me right for leaving them alone for 5 minutes.
And now I dedicate the rest of this blog to the different faces of Laina. Why? Because it is my blog and I can do whatever I want. Just try and stop me....he he he (that was a wicked laugh, so you know)
All three pointed at a book that now had important pictures highlighted in yellow. When I asked who did the scribbles Ethan pointed to Austin and shouted, "Austin did it!" Austin pointed at Alaina and shouted, "Alaina did it!" Alaina pointed back at Ethan and shouted, "Ethan did it!" Ahhh, the classic three-way stand-off. Seeing how the damage was pretty minimal I feinted a very upset and disappointed face and insisted that all three sit on time-out for the crime. After a good 5 minutes I later I walked back to talk to the kids.
I was feeling pretty good about myself. The kids weren't too naughty, and yet I was able to teach a good lesson about being honest and not drawing with a pen on anything but paper. In this manner of thinking, I approached Alaina first. I explained to them how important it was to take responsibility for their actions and not just blame the person next to them. "So, why are you on time-out, Lainy?" In quiet, repentant voice she says, "Because I drew on the book with a pen." (Ah-ha! The true culprit comes out) I turn to Austin, ready to chastise him for lying and say, "And why are you on time out?" Austin quietly says, "Because I drew on the TV." What!!!!??? This has taken me by surprise and I rush over to see the damage. There it is...writing all over the new TV. Thankfully, it wipes off without too much trouble. Finally I approach Ethan and a little uneasily ask, "And why are you on time-out?" Ethan is catching on to this honesty thing and happily blurts out, "Because I drew on the wall." WHAT!!!! Sure enough, there it was. The main problem was that I had already disciplined them and really had no where to go with all these sudden discoveries. "OK...then. Um. I accept your apologies. I guess." Serves me right for leaving them alone for 5 minutes.
And now I dedicate the rest of this blog to the different faces of Laina. Why? Because it is my blog and I can do whatever I want. Just try and stop me....he he he (that was a wicked laugh, so you know)
I wasn't going to talk about this to anyone, but since it will be plastered all over the 6 o'clock news tonight, I thought I should be the one to break it to you all first. After a morning of physical abuse, I decided I couldn't take it anymore and I sent my Austin to the slammer. It all started this morning when I was trying to show the kids how cool it was to fall asleep in a sunbeam. I laid down and stretched out like a cat and told everyone to come and join me. I guess I made it sound very exciting because Austin became so full of enthusiasm that he started jumping up and down. For his grand finale he hurled his full sippy cup straight at my face. If anyone of you have seen my boy throw...you'll know he has a very impressive arm. This was no exception. And there was no hesitation...the boy just pulled back and let it go. I had no time for any type of reaction since he was only 2 feet away from my head. The corner of the cup smashed into my cheek and was so painful I couldn't help the tears from coming for a couple of minutes. This of course scared the kids and I got many many kisses to make up for the pain. A very big welt formed immediately on my check and even a day later I can hardly touch any part of my cheek. So, you all see the predicament I was in. Do I let this type of abuse continue? Christy Jones says NO! I immediately dragged him off to central booking. Jail time is the only answer for such an out-of-control child. Yes, human interest groups of all types are protesting my decision, but enough is enough. Here is his booking photo. He has already assimilated to prison life and is currently going by the name, "Bull Dog." Named primarily for that scrunchy face he used in his mug shot.
Ethan and Alaina saw what was happening and the went out on the lam before I could stop them. The two are still AWOL...but here are some previous mug shots of them, in case you see them around. Please help bring these criminals to justice and call America's Most wanted if you spot them. Do not approach them as they are all very dangerous and may be armed with sippy cups or balls.
Ethan goes by the Alias, "Mad Max" in regard to his penchant of riding his trike through the neighborhood like a little hellion. He was turned in for breaking the toddler speed limit and several noise violations. He's charming but speedy...beware.
And lastly the worst of the bunch...Alaina. She was previously turned in by the fashion police. They have had enough of her crazy hair and her insane outfits she likes to put together. She can blend into society like a chameleon...and will never be found, especially if she finds her way into a group of teenage girls. Her ability to talk non-stop and her innate stubbornness will allow her to fit right in. She goes by the alias, "Crazy Lane"
It is a sad place in life to have to turn to the law for such young and impressionable ankle-biters. And to think...my own children! Sad or not...I am compelled to follow the laws of the land. Please help capture these little fugitives before nap time.
Ethan and Alaina saw what was happening and the went out on the lam before I could stop them. The two are still AWOL...but here are some previous mug shots of them, in case you see them around. Please help bring these criminals to justice and call America's Most wanted if you spot them. Do not approach them as they are all very dangerous and may be armed with sippy cups or balls.
Ethan goes by the Alias, "Mad Max" in regard to his penchant of riding his trike through the neighborhood like a little hellion. He was turned in for breaking the toddler speed limit and several noise violations. He's charming but speedy...beware.
And lastly the worst of the bunch...Alaina. She was previously turned in by the fashion police. They have had enough of her crazy hair and her insane outfits she likes to put together. She can blend into society like a chameleon...and will never be found, especially if she finds her way into a group of teenage girls. Her ability to talk non-stop and her innate stubbornness will allow her to fit right in. She goes by the alias, "Crazy Lane"
It is a sad place in life to have to turn to the law for such young and impressionable ankle-biters. And to think...my own children! Sad or not...I am compelled to follow the laws of the land. Please help capture these little fugitives before nap time.
Sunday, February 04, 2007
Today is Sunday.
That is the first line in every single one of my journal entries I wrote as a girl. I guess there are only so many good Sunday activities out there. But I digress. Today actually is Sunday and we had one of our many exciting/challenging Sacrament meetings with the little monsters. They had been on pretty good behavior throughout the majority of the meeting and with only minutes to go, I thought we were home-free.
And then I saw him walking up towards the pulpit.
We haven't seen the guy since the ward Christmas party, and although he is a very nice older gentleman, I was really hoping that Ethan wouldn't look up and see him. Of course, Ethan did look up and I watched as the recognition slowly worked its way across his face. His eyebrows furrowed together as he looked closer at the man's face. The second it all came together Ethan's face completely lit up as he blurted out, "It's SANTA! He's back from the North Pole!" Yes...it was our Christmas Party Santa. And even a month later, he looks just the same. White hair, full beard, sparkling eyes, red cheeks and red suspenders to boot. We could not contain Ethan's excitement as we watched him return to his seat. Over and over Ethan pointed and said, "I can't believe it! Santa came BACK! It's SANTA! Back from the North Pole" We tried to tell him different little lies, like, "That's just a guy who looks like Santa." or "That's Santa's friend." But Ethan would not be fooled. He knows what he knows...and he knows that Santa lives in our ward.
After the meeting Ethan ran over to see Santa up close. As soon as he looked up to our jolly brother, all his bravado escaped him and he just stared up in complete adoration. Santa reached down and took his hand and asked him how he was doing. I actually think Ethan stopped breathing for a few seconds. It was a sight to see. The towering 6'4" old, broad shouldered trucker (his cover identity, I'm sure) hunched over holding the hand of a red cheeked, wide-eyed child. For a second I was sure I saw some kind of magic pass between those two. Ethan remained mesmerized as Santa carried on a brief conversation with him, mostly centered on how handsome and good Ethan was.
And then, with a twinkle in his eye, Santa straightened up, smiled and took his leave. Ethan watched him go until he was lost in the crowd then slowly looked at me with a "told ya so" look plastered all over his face.
So. Now you know what he does on his off season.
Robert said that since he left town well before Christmas and didn't get back until just now, he isn't too sure that it isn't Santa after all. "You know, he'd need a good month to recuperate after delivering all those presents," he whispered as we walked off to our class. Say no more...I'm already convinced.
That is the first line in every single one of my journal entries I wrote as a girl. I guess there are only so many good Sunday activities out there. But I digress. Today actually is Sunday and we had one of our many exciting/challenging Sacrament meetings with the little monsters. They had been on pretty good behavior throughout the majority of the meeting and with only minutes to go, I thought we were home-free.
And then I saw him walking up towards the pulpit.
We haven't seen the guy since the ward Christmas party, and although he is a very nice older gentleman, I was really hoping that Ethan wouldn't look up and see him. Of course, Ethan did look up and I watched as the recognition slowly worked its way across his face. His eyebrows furrowed together as he looked closer at the man's face. The second it all came together Ethan's face completely lit up as he blurted out, "It's SANTA! He's back from the North Pole!" Yes...it was our Christmas Party Santa. And even a month later, he looks just the same. White hair, full beard, sparkling eyes, red cheeks and red suspenders to boot. We could not contain Ethan's excitement as we watched him return to his seat. Over and over Ethan pointed and said, "I can't believe it! Santa came BACK! It's SANTA! Back from the North Pole" We tried to tell him different little lies, like, "That's just a guy who looks like Santa." or "That's Santa's friend." But Ethan would not be fooled. He knows what he knows...and he knows that Santa lives in our ward.
After the meeting Ethan ran over to see Santa up close. As soon as he looked up to our jolly brother, all his bravado escaped him and he just stared up in complete adoration. Santa reached down and took his hand and asked him how he was doing. I actually think Ethan stopped breathing for a few seconds. It was a sight to see. The towering 6'4" old, broad shouldered trucker (his cover identity, I'm sure) hunched over holding the hand of a red cheeked, wide-eyed child. For a second I was sure I saw some kind of magic pass between those two. Ethan remained mesmerized as Santa carried on a brief conversation with him, mostly centered on how handsome and good Ethan was.
And then, with a twinkle in his eye, Santa straightened up, smiled and took his leave. Ethan watched him go until he was lost in the crowd then slowly looked at me with a "told ya so" look plastered all over his face.
So. Now you know what he does on his off season.
Robert said that since he left town well before Christmas and didn't get back until just now, he isn't too sure that it isn't Santa after all. "You know, he'd need a good month to recuperate after delivering all those presents," he whispered as we walked off to our class. Say no more...I'm already convinced.
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