Mmmm, breakfast

Around once a week the kids will want a hot dog for breakfast. Its a tad strange to me, but then I like strange things for breakfast too.

For instance I'll eat a bean burrito in the AM. But when the kids ask I stand there stupidly blinking in a wash of momentary guilt.

It is then that I rationalize...

Sausage is breakfast meat.

Hot dogs look like sausage.

If sausage is a breakfast meat and hot dogs look like a sausage...

Then it stands to reason that feeding my children hot dogs at 6am is just fine and dandy.

That's right, I turn it into a SAT question and thus I can live with myself.

This is the most important meal of the day and it is hot dog and V8 juice...

Dont judge me. That is a full serving of fruit and veggies for a boy who has no interest in eating other than a means by which to stay alive... that baby wouldn't feed himself until he was almost 2. Bo is just an all around eater or rather a taster...she relishes food and has a much wider palate.

But the smell of hot dogs in the morning...gag.

Its been a year...

It has been a year since I last blogged. Ouch, such is the way of things. But it is still better than my record with scrap booking. No, neither of the children have one yet.

In the past year Mad celebrated his 5th birthday and I couldn't bring myself to write about it. That would be tantamount to admitting he was no longer a baby! He had a wonderful time playing soccer for the first time. Mostly he stood on the field chasing butterflies and pretending to be spiderman. He got his first phone call from a girl in his preschool class. She tells me that they are going to be married, Maddie just doesn't know it yet. Um, is there a way to lock him up in a tower with a dragon or is that just for fairytale characters...

Mad has become adept with video games and Lego's. I have become adept at stepping and kneeling on said Lego's. He loves Harry Potter and we have read the first two books together this year. He is still very sensitive and easily embarrassed but makes friends every where and always has a plan for play. We have taken to calling him "the Cruise Director", he wants it the way he wants it and he wants you to want it the way he wants it too. Luckily his sister is just happy to be invited to play whatever it is he has concocted. He is a happy boy over all and that is amazing to me after how long he took to get out of the terrible twos and threes and well, you get the picture...

Now I remember why I haven't blogged in forever...as I type there is a three year old banging on my chair with a couple of paint brushes screaming for me to dance to the music she is beating out. Aaarrgggh!

The three year old in question has had quite the year herself. She has mastered the big girl bed and goes most nights with out wetting the bed, during the day she is full on potty trained. Her vocabulary is astonishing...she actually uses words like "astonishing". Like many other girls her age she is three going on 23. She still has a sick shoe fetish happening and can walk in my four inch heels better than I can. Bo continues to be the best eater in the house, she loves steak, eating raw oysters with hot sauce and lemon, every kind of veggie you can imagine...and will pretty much try anything. Bo loves to sing and dance and perform. Everything is a story with her. While brother likes to tell himself stories and will play in his room talking to a Lego for hours, sissy wants to tell YOU the story. She wants to be just like brother which makes for some nice fights. But still the worst punishment I can meter out is to tell them they cant play with each other.

Daddy and I have decided that we are done having babies. And he is going to be getting his snip on soon. At first I was sure that I wanted three kids and it took a lot of convincing to bring Brian around, and then I realized that all I really wanted was the choice. So once Brian said he would give me that I, um, decided that getting him to tell me I could was all I need to hear. Says a lot about my personality I guess...hmmm. So now that I know I could have another baby if I wanted to I see that I really don't want to. I would much rather snuggle other people's babies. And as Brian says "if we had another baby we would never be able to sit at a four top again!" LOL!

My parents moved to town and it has been a dream having them here. As a kid it was all I wanted as a Navy brat. To live in one place surrounded by family, the picket fence the whole deal. The only thing that could make it more perfect would be if my sister and her family moved here. I want the kids to know their only cousins. Brian's brother is still in his twenties and just graduated from law school so by the time he has kids mine will be grown...meanwhile my sister's kids are 9, 7, and 3. Mad and Bo love them and ask to see them all the time. I will just have to bend my thoughts to getting them down here permanently....

Summer this year is almost over. We have done a lot of beach going, visits to hotels and parks in Orlando. Bo decided she wanted a big birthday bash centered around strawberry cake with candles. Not three candles, lots and lots of candles. She also decided that she wanted to have a double birthday party with her little friend Aubry who shares her birthday. Aubry and her family just moved to town and wasn't going to be able to have a big "pink party" like she wanted so they shared and had the best time. My mom made them matching outfits and we had a grand time.

Mad, who has never been really interested in having a party, has decided he wants a big one after seeing the grandiose scheme Bo designed. Who knew a three year old would have so many party planning ideas. She knew what kind of cake she wanted, the decorations, the food to be served and so on.

The kiddos play together so well most of the time and I have turned the back sun porch into their domain. Brian calls it toy land. Which of course it is. They have learned the words "I'm bored" much to my chagrin. Their rooms usually look like a bomb exploded but then my room usually looks like a bomb exploded too....yeah, way to teach by example Mom....

Mad starts kindergarten in a few weeks and I am trying not to freak. He is so excited and even had me move his desk and chair to a better spot so that he could be ready to work should he have homework. I can only hope the enthusiasm will last. Bo is starting pre-school three days a week and will have the same teacher, Mrs. Williams, that Mad had. She too is sooo excited. It doesn't seem real. I just brought these babies home and now they are going to school and reading and writing and growing faster than I can keep up with.

Brian took our annual couples trip last week, this year it was to NYC, and my mom and MIL took turns staying with the kids. Turns out the kids are damn well adjusted, they didn't cry once and barely gave us a Hello upon our return. They told me after they missed us and didn't want us to go away again. But the grannies took such good care of them they hardly batted an eye. Of course they are ridiculously spoiled now and that is coming as a shock to them that mommy doesn't behave like Nana and Nonni...ahh the granny privilege to spoil rotten and give the kids back :)

Today the heat wave has hit town and we are off to a play date which involves a water slide. I am trying to pretend summer is not coming to an end, they are not going to be starting school and imagining that they will be my babies forever....

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...