Thursday, July 9, 2015

Why THIS Mom Gets Nothing Done

If you frequent the interwebs - and by this I mean the Facebook app on your phone - then you no doubt have seen this video that has - as they say - "gone viral."

And, well, you know me, so you know I had to interject my own this-is-how-it-is-at-our-house opinion. And - yup - it's pretty much everything in this video. Mom: the great equalizer (unless you have a nanny then we all hate you. Except Princess Kate, who can do no wrong.)

 Someone is always waiting for me to do something...

 But if I'm going to be distracted, these are the best faces to be distracted by!

 Someone is always needing me to do something.

Or get them out of somewhere. (This picture was also featured in the previous post but I felt it bares repeating.)

 They do try their best little selves to be helpful.

 I know you didn't really want all of this stuff here, Mom. Let me reorganize it for you. If it's spread all over the floor, you'll be able to get to it much easier.

 Not exactly what I meant by "unloading the groceries."

Everyone's all like, ooo look at my garden with it's carrots and herbs and stuff, and I'm just over here like, yeah, well my garden grows ponies and mud monsters. (This was taken awhile back. Our Beginner's Garden has since been declared off-limits to small children, and subsequently sprouted cucumber and carrot plants. Woo!)

 We have all these toys - and this is just a third...

 But this is what's most interesting to play with. Only while I'm trying to do the dishes, of course.

 Napkins. *sigh*

 And one...

...Or both are usually covered in something...

Coffee and wine are my saving graces, but would you believe this was the second time a giant Lego was dropped into my coffee? Hashtag: life with kids. Hashtag: this is why my parents hate me. Don't worry, it wasn't hot coffee. Moms only drink luke-warm and/or cold coffee, and that's if they're lucky enough to remember to get it out of the microwave after the third re-heat.

 Someone is always demanding snuggles, but I'll take that over folding laundry any day. Especially now when they smell all sweet and wonderful and not like angst-y hormones.

 Despite all of the furniture, I still manage to be the best seat in the house. I keep reminding myself that there will come a day when they won't want anything to do with me so I should cherish these moments.

I look tired because I am. My day starts at 5am and ends at 10:30pm and my house always looks like several tornadoes ran through it. While I may not get anything done, that doesn't mean I'm not always doing something; it must be Child's Law that states a toy becomes exponentially more interesting as soon as you're trying to put it away. And even though Zoey refuses to wear pants while we're at home, and there are times I don't change out of my pajamas for two days, I'm still faced with ever-growing piles of laundry. And since the children are always growing, and since we're poor as fuck, the kitchen is always open and I'm always cooking. But we're living. We're eating, drinking, sleeping, playing, laughing, yelling, running, crying, tantrum-ing, throwing, walking, sitting, dozing, laundering, cooking, reading, driving, traveling, and just being. We manage to keep the level of grime to a minimum and have settled on what my Father-in-Law calls the Lived-In Look.

I'm lucky enough to have a partner who understands why the house looks worse when he gets home than it did when he left that morning. I'm lucky that he doesn't get visibly mad when he has to search for matching socks at 5:30 in the morning. And I'm lucky that all of that is overshadowed by his 4-year old telling him (correctly) the difference between singular and plural words.

Monday, July 6, 2015

Throes of Toddler-Dome

Well, not really; technically, this is just the beginning. But I can see it on the horizon!

It all started with this:


Holden is now a smidgen over 11-months old and this video was taken at 10-months, 2-weeks, beating his older sister in the walking derby by two weeks and four days.

(Here is Zoey's walking video for your awwww-moment of the day:

Since Holden took that leisurely stroll through the flowers in our backyard, he has decided that crawling is for suckers and walking is the only way to go. So I technically called it a month early but he's a toddler. But, as I said, a pre-toddler (worse than a pre-teen?), though full-fledged Terrible Two's are looming (Zoey entered her's at one-and-a-half). He walks everywhere with that diaper-causing, bow-legged clomp, is into everything, and throws tantrums when he's not allowed to play in the dog bowls, with the Lazy Susan cupboard, the toilet water, with any of the remote controls, or on the couch. But being the BOY that he is - that's right, I'm totally blaming Jacob since the guys supply the gender - he's had no trouble finding mischief with the things he *is* able to play with.

His security puppy. Like Suit has a special sleeve for Zoey, and B has a special corner for Libby, Puppy has a special ear for Holden.

He's decided that sitting next to the box is just not going to cut it.

He just thinks he's SO hilarious!

See the toy. Be the toy. (Whatever keeps him from yanking down my folded laundry.)

His favorite places to go are the ones you don't want him going.

As Holden gets older, more mobile, and more independent, he also becomes more interesting to Zoey; especially since he thinks she's the greatest thing since sliced bread and laughs at everything she does.

We've been going to the Play Place since Holden was in the tummy and someone is so happy to FINALLY be big enough to a) not get trampled by the bigger kids; and b) make the toys make music. And if there is one thing this baby LOVES it's music.

Already deciding on his own what he wants for dinner.

With a kitchen strainer and a Christmas stamp.

I speak very tongue-in-cheek. Toddler-hood is a difficult time, as is any phase when you're actively raising a child, but it's also a lot of fun and probably my favorite part of Zoey and Holden's lives so far. I love the ages from 2-4; they're still chubby and clumsy like babies, but walk and eat and try to form sentences, which is oftentimes better than TV. They're like mini drunk adults only way cuter, way less annoying, and it's not as embarrassing when they throw up in public.

Zoey has recently emerged from this blessed phase of life. Baby-fat free, she's tall, lanky, always hungry, and knows better than to throw a tantrum, unless she's overtired and then all hell breaks loose.

I love my little baby more than anything, but I'm excited to see and know and love the kid he'll soon be. For one, he's bound to only get cuter!!