Rorschach

The kids and I often look at the clouds and tell each other what we think we see in them, a horse, a dragon, an ice cream cone. For the last two days PJ has been telling me what her poop looks like.
Day 1: a big finger
Day 2: a club

Hmmm, what long straight object is in store for tomorrow?

Oh no, not the Medium. I need the XS hair-shirt for a good snug fit

I did it to myself. I allowed it to happen. I let both of my kids have a sleep over this week at Nana’s.

I have been saying “NO” to this request for a good long time. Because you see, it just isn’t in my best interest. No one is on their A game, when there is a sleep over the night before. No one is even on their C game. But now, CT is old enough to have conversations with his cousin Eleanor and through these conversations come realizations that they are getting the short end of the stick.

So, I gave in to the request. And now, I am being punished!

Here is only a small glimpse into what my day has been like. Believe me, there is more material to be had, but I will dole it out sparingly.

After separating CT & PJ several times this morning for throwing blocks at each other, we all piled into the car to go to the grocery store, and as usual, I told them what my expectations of them were.

I didn’t, but I sure as hell wanted to!

Bye bye Peter

The other day I was at the potty with PJ. She was lingering after I had wiped her, standing up talking at the potty, flushing it and then watching as all the contents emptied out.

I asked if she was talking to Peter. She looked at me and responded, “yes, and I told him he couldn’t wipe my bottom anymore and I flushed him down the toilet.”

PJ’s first photo

fingers and all

Monkeys jumping on the bed

Last night after we read books, went potty, brushed teeth, sang songs, said prayers, kissed them goodnight and shut the door, we kept hearing banging. Very often, after the door shuts for the night, PJ and CT wrestle around a bit before they get situated into their beds. This is fine with us, as long as it doesn’t get too loud or too crazy, because after all it is bedtime.

Well, last night there were many loud noises coming from their bedroom. I would say it went on for a good 30 minutes. Since there was no fighting, screaming or yelling, I let it go. Until…the bang, followed by the blood curdling scream that split straight through the air which made me immediately ran upstairs to find PJ screaming, mouth agape, lips turning purple due to the lack of oxygen and her little hand holding onto her left cheek. I pulled her hand away and witnessed something I have never seen before, a bruise forming right before my eyes. Her little cheek went from white to red to blue in a matter of a second or two, the blood simply forcing itself to the surface of the skin.

Tonight (after yet another dump off the bed this afternoon…I was told by CT that he was trying to hug PJ while they were standing on his bed and they fell. PJ of course ended up on the bottom of the pile) new rules have been set in place.

New Rule: Once you are put to bed you MUST stay in your bed!

45 minutes after being put to bed, we know they are not following the new rule. Adam walks up the stairs, opens the door and finds PJ standing in a spread eagle formation on the top of the bed side table with a small toy weapon (a 6 inch wooden stick with a ball on the end of it) in her hand.

She will either be the death of me or herself. Only time will tell.

Bugs in my wine

Interesting Choice

All kids seem to love their private parts or at least mine do. But, I find it interesting that from the private parts the fingers go directly into the nose.

Hmmmmm.

A sign of things to come?

Tuesday morning PJ and I were having some really nice quality mother-daughter time, raking, seeding, planting, dusting and doing other various house hold chores while KP slept and CT was at school.

While we were in the basement dusting, PJ announces that she has to go potty and that she wants me to come with her. I told her to go on by herself and that I would be up to wipe her shortly.

She started to become defiant, stood her ground and refused to go by herself. Please note, she has been going potty by herself for several months now and even wiping her own poopy bottom, so it isn’t like she can’t do this task.

I asked her to please let me finish my dusting and then I would be more than happy to help.

She kept demanding.

I kept pleading and dusting. I just wanted to finish the dusting!

She said, “I tinkled in my pants.”

Not looking, I told her to get up stairs immediately and finish going potty in the bathroom.

She said, “I tinkling on the remote.”

I turned and looked at my little girl, white hot rage starting to burn over my skin. She was standing with her legs shoulder width apart, her angry little eyes peering out through the hair that was covering her face, the remote laying dead center underneath her and there she was…peeing on it.

Take a breath

Oh baby girl, happy 3rd birthday party day. You did great.
I love you.

Tomorrow

PJ is having her third birthday party tomorrow. She has no idea that her birthday has actually passed, yes that was very selfish of me, but you try to explain to a just turned three year old who doesn’t understand days of the week or hours of the day. She often times thinks when she wakes up from her afternoon nap that it is the next day. Need I say more?

Anyway, she and I have been getting ready today. Actually, that is a bit overstated. We made the cake, danced like princesses and talked about her party.

Tomorrow should be fun. One minute she can’t wait for her party to start, talking a mile a minute about how her friends are going to look at her cake and say, “Oh my, PJ I love your cake, what a pretty cake!” The next second, her face has turned sullen and she begins to ramble on about not wanting to turn three and not wanting to have a party at all.

It is her party, she can cry if she wants to. But, if I know my girl, she will party like a rock star and then hit someone later.