My baby is 2

Bo, you are 2 years old now. Mommy cannot believe it!

Well, it is really two going on 12. Who knows if it because you are the second child, because you are a girl, or it is just your big personality, but you constantly act like you have been there done that already. You pout and put on theatrics. You still love your knock, knock jokes. Right now your favorite is this one:

Bodhi: Knock, Knock.

Mommy: Who's there?

Bodhi: Interrupting cow.

Mommy: Interup...

Bodhi: MOOOOOO!!!

You are the best eater in the family and I love it! You will try anything. You especially love what ever it is your Daddy is eating. He never before, in the 12 years your father and I have been together, had to worry about having to share his favorite culinary indulgences. Now he needs to up his game and shuck those oysters or craw fish fast if you are anywhere near. "I want one, I want one," or "Pleeeeaaaasssse...." is what you squeal, and girl, you can and will climb people like a monkey when you want something.

You love hot sauce and want it on everything. You can put down a half a fillet in under five minutes.

We have yet to find something you wont eat...well, technically you will only suck the juice out of watermelon. You do spit out the actual fruit. You l0ve coffee and and hot tea. Pickles and olives are a particular favorite. Poor Daddy came home the other day to find that his much beloved Manzilla olives were already gone...

You still love shoes more than anything, with the except of books. Your bed is always filled with books in the morning- despite it being devoid of them the previous evening. Jewelry is next in line and then comes pretending to feed people. You love that. Oh, and anything and everything your brother plays is ultra cool.

You have a small obsession with your Sassy, and I am assuming it is going to take a little bit longer to separate the two of you than I originally planned. But that was my faux paux as I should know better than to try and plan something with kiddies. You all are on your own schedules. Right now we are just working on getting you to take it out when you talk although you speak perfectly clear with it in, I would rather not have to stick it in your mouth when I want to understand you and not be able to tell what the heck you are saying without it.

You love your piglets, blankies and puppy. You want ALL of them. All 3 blankies, three piglets and one puppy. You don't seem to mind if one goes missing for a while, as long as you have one of each you are good to go. You are sleeping in a big girl bed because you climb everything and have no sense of danger or fear. While your brother will sit and play you have to figure out your way to the top of the tallest thing in the room. Needless to say you have to be watched constantly. I am loathe to let you play in your own bedroom for longer than a minute without supervision for fear I will find you on top of your dresser or worse pinned under it. I have a new wrinkle in my forehead which bears the name "Bodhi Learns to Climb".

You are the most amazing child to take to the Doctor. Freakish almost... You do everything they ask you to on command, including taking deep breathing for the stethoscope. When you have had to have blood drawn for all the tests on your tummy you hardly cried at all, really only when they first pierced the skin. Then you thanked them and patted their hand when they were applying the band aid. I pray this strange and wonderful behavior lasts.

You refuse to sit in time out. You long ago figured out that your brother always throws a fit and ends up sitting in time out longer than if he just ceased and desisted. Instead you apologize relentlessly. And are willing to do what ever it takes to kiss and makeup so you don't have to sit in that chair. Sure, I'll kiss the boy I was just whacking over the head, just don't make me sit in one place for 2 minutes!

The real way to get you to behave is to separate you and your brother. You two could be at each others throats all day long and nothing I do makes a difference, time outs, raising my voice, threatening the destruction of the universe. The only thing that works is telling you two that you cant play with each other anymore today.

You love Lucy. That poor dog loves and hates you. Loves you because you rub her belly and feed her off your plate any chance you get. Also you are a very, shall we say, exuberant eater...and there is always some good eating under your chair to go along with whatever that chubby hand is passing under the table. You rationalize it perfectly. That you and Lucy both like the meal, so why shouldn't she partake with you?

You more than anyone loves to play tug of war with her and yet...

She hates you because you poke her in the ears, butt, mouth, nose, eyes and chase her relentlessly. You pull pillows out from under her when she is fast asleep and then laugh when she flails around all over the couch on her back trying to grasp her bearings.

I could go on and on but I think that you are waking up from your own nap. Your nap that you are more frequently refusing to take. Its is the end of an era...the end of MY afternoon naps!

You are sooooo 2. And I love every minute of it!

Saving Private Maddox

Nose picking...private. Bum scratching...private. Burping, farting (or passing gas- for those more genteel ears)...again, private. Now that the boy understands what our private parts are it is time he and I discuss the where and the why of private part manners. So far I will admit my success has been a wee bit pathetic. Ball scratching is real popular with this young one and since he and I quote - "likes doing it" (picture: big poo eating grin as he says this) he doesn't seem why it should bother anyone else. The logic is hard to deny. Now if I can just make him understand that standing behind a house plant and picking your nose does not constitute privacy if you are still in full view of the entire room. But hey, you cant knock what little progress you got, right?

Dont knock it till you try it

Knock, knock.

Who's there?

Hot dog.

Hot dog who?

Hot dog!

Hahahahha (forced laughter)

This is the scene currently playing out at our house. My 20 month old daughter came up with this knock, knock joke after hearing my son spout off all the ones he knows. Now she likes nothing better than to scream knock, knock at you all day long. And dont even think about not responding after she tells you it for the 36th time. Then you will have her brother on your patootie telling you to answer sissy and laugh properly at this joke that only Bodhi can understand. I am thinking it may be time to invest in a knock, knock, joke book....

HIGH HO!

Its off to work we go....well, not quite, I am going to be working from home. I am starting my own business. Well, not quite, but I am starting off on a new endeavor. I had decided to start doing boutique jewelry trunk shows. Yup, that is what I am calling it. Fine, I am basically selling jewelry out of my trunk, while finding an excuse to drink cocktails with my girlfriends and asking them to have more cocktail party trunk shows. But it is quality, fabulous, classic jewelry that I must possess...(pant, pant, pant) . Not to mention that my girlfriends will be able to get jewelry for free and severely discounted and all that jazz.

This is going to be interesting. Before I had the kids I worked in the real estate world. Thats what I know. I am not sure I am going to be successful working from home. Who is going to keep me motivated and on top of things...where will my assistant be?? But then there is the idea of being able to support my jewelry habit while consuming the fermented grape juice with my friends....my jewelry habit is so large I really should name her...if I gave her a name she could be my assistant! See! I called it! Maddox's dentist appointment did split my personality! I am sitting here thinking of a name for my jewelry addiction! It was a traumatic event...and no, I am still not emotionally ready to talk about it.

At the end of the day...

All day long and usually right before I fall asleep I find myself thinking about the kind of mother I want to be. How I want them to remember me. Affectionate and loving, fair and honest, even tempered and patient. Strong, a rock, someone they can always count on...yeah, usually this is after I have screamed like a harpy because they have been at each other's throats all day. Say... with, oh, I don't know.... what started out as a fight over an imaginary cookie in the play kitchen?

The flippin' thing is imaginary! Bake another one! It will take you about a millisecond! It is not even REAL! The next person to talk about, think about, tattle about, or look at the other person is in TIME OUT!

It's five o'clock somewhere, isn't it? I think I finally understand what cocktail hour is truly all about. In college I thought this was a great excuse to imbibe...now I realize I may need a cocktail at the end of the day to coax me from the fetal position in the corner and take me to my happy place. I actually came home and meditated after taking Maddox to the dentist the other day. My mantra? Breathe, breathe...but that is another entry for another day. I don't think I can go there emotionally yet. A frik frakkin imaginary cookie can ruin my day. The dentist incident may have actually split my personality it was so traumatic.

Obviously I am pretty large work in progress...

Rules for Teachers

Oh how the times have changed! I found this on a website

about one room school houses and simply had to share...no, I don't know why I was looking up one room school houses. I tend to wander on the internet...my own personal form of ADD.

Rules for Teachers
1872

1.	Teachers each day will fill lamps, clean chimneys.
2.	Each teacher will bring a bucket of water and a scuttle of coal for the day's session.
3.	Make your pens carefully. You may whittle nibs to the individual tastes of the pupils.
4.	Men teachers may take one evening each week for courting purposes, or two evenings a week if they go to church regularly.
5.	After ten hours in school, the teacher may spend the remaining time reading the Bible or other good books.
6.	Women teachers who marry or engage in unseemly conduct will be dismissed.
7.	Every teacher should lay aside each day a goodly sum of his earnings for his benefit during his declining years so he will not become a burden on society.
8.	Any teacher who smokes, uses liquor in any form, frequents pool or public halls, or gets shaved in a barber shop will give good reason to suspect his worth, intention, integrity and honesty.
9.	The teacher who performs his labor faithfully and without fault for five years will be given an increase of twenty-five cents per week in his pay, providing the Board of Education approves.
	(from Country School Legacy)

I HEART you coffee

I am addicted to coffee. Ever since I became a mommy, the addiction has grown. I brew half a pot everyday for myself and lament its loss...even after the hot morning coffee is long gone and I have turned the remainder into an refreshing afternoon icy coffee. Mmmmm. For me thats a lot of coffee, I have been trying to maintain the half a pot rule. If not just for the amount of coffee grounds that is, or the calories in the darn creamer, but for the headache that will ensue should I be forced to go a day without coffee. Woe betide those children should mommy not get her coffee, or at least some form of caffeine. Because I was feeling so very addicted to my caffeine I wrote this little diddy..

I love you coffee

Cause crack's illegal

And will make you crazy

Rot your teeth

Pick your face

Umm, is the fact that I am in withdrawal blatantly obvious...just a little? Damn, I thought so.

He gets it from his father....

My son. Ahhh, my son. I wonder about the boy sometimes, where he gets his ideas from... yeah, yeah, I know it is the old nature versus nurture argument...but still I do wonder where he gets it all...

We recently took a trip to Disney World and while waiting in line to ride the Teacups we found ourselves behind a full figured gal. It was a warm day but she was wearing tight stretchy glittery jean and a long sleeve electric blue top...she was disco ready, and Maddox could not take his eyes off her. As there is not much to do in line but stare at each other I stared at Maddox while he stared at the woman in front of us. All of the sudden, out of no where my son reaches up and pokes this lady in the bottom! Now I realize that his head was level with her very ample and glittery bottom, but come on now! You are four years old, so I immediately began to reprimand him and remind him that we keep our hands to ourselves. The woman didn't turn around and I don't know if she felt it or was embarrassed that this kid had just touched her, so I lowered my head to Mad and asked him why he did that and this is what he said... or rather this is what he SANG:

"BOOTY, BOOTY, BOOOOOOTTAAAYYY!"

I die. I just like to think that since she didn't turn around maybe she didn't realize what was going on...but he sure did like that Boooottaaayyyy.

The Loo

Privacy? That is so B.C., you know, 'Before Children'. My husband recently asked why I always lock the door when I take a bath. I answered him with a stunner- "Because it is the only privacy I get anymore!"

Yes, I realize the husband would like a peek. But come on people, I poop most days with a child sitting on my lap. Or at least standing 6 inches from me, staring, asking if I am done and what I am going to do next. At the very least, if I lock the door quick enough, screaming ensues from the other side.

There is nothing sacred in the A.D., that would be 'After Delivery' to you.

The munchkins stand outside the shower door. They sit on the counter while you do your makeup, at your feet while you do your hair. When you do have a moment to yourself, perhaps in the car, you may drive a good half hour before you realize that you have been singing along to that Wiggles CD and there is not a child in sight. And for instance there is a child sticking his head up between my hands as I type this, all the while screaming at his sister....and truthfully I don't mind. But the pooping by myself, yeah, that would be nice.

I have arrived.

That's it. I have achieved Stay at Home Mommydom. I just covered my hand sanitizer with pretty paper. I got tired of looking at it so I covered it. I have arrived. I have become one with the crafting cult...I think I like it....kum bay ya.... wait that bad boy needs ribbon!

What a world! What a world! Im melting!

After telling Maddox that I couldn't fix the heel of Bodhi's princess shoe he grabs the shoe and begins to moan "Why, why, why!!" while clutching it. He is serious.

There is a real reason we call him Drama.