Go To Sleep....Go To Sleeeeep....GO TO SLEEP LITTLE BABY!

So Sabertooth has officially earned a new nickname: Count Crybaby.  The Count because this kid just prefers to stay up all night.  I've been fighting his nocturnal habits for too many months now and figure that the new moniker will shame him into falling into sync with normal circadian rhythms.

The Crybaby comes from the fact that he actually is one.  He doesn't really want to nap much during the day anymore and then he wants to hang out all night too.  Some days he's awake from 6:00 in the morning until 11:00 at night with little more than a 15-30 minute nap.  This means that he's whiny and clingy for HOURS.

Hell, I get crabby when I have to conform to that schedule.

Oh, wait.  Since he gets up at 6:00, that means he gets 1 more hour of sleep than me.

No Bed For You!

I've been trying to sleep in my bed rather than on the couch lately.  So far, this has not been a roaring success.  If it's not LateNapLarry screwing me over by staying up all night, it's PleaseDon'tLeaveMePolly waking up in the middle of the night crying because she's afraid that we're going to leave her behind and not take her to preschool.  We are leaving her behind, but I'm hoping she won't figure that out until we're heading out the door.

We've left instruction for LateNap not to let him sleep after 4:00 in the afternoon.  Day 1 of someone else trying to enforce this caused the babysitter (Grandma) to toss a sleepy crying baby at me as soon as I walked through the door.  Her exact quote was, "I couldn't have kept him awake for much longer."  What I heard was, "His crying was giving me a headache and I was going to ruin your entire night by letting him sleep anyway if you didn't make it home soon."  So .... we've got some work to do there.

PleaseDon'tLeaveMe was up last night at 1:15 begging to go downstairs for water, then she refused to go back to bed.  Spending the night on the couch with a squirmy 3-year old watching Spongebob (the movie) is not the setting for pleasant dreams.  It's the setting for frequent waking as I'm being kicked all night, coupled by the fact that the title sequence played on a loop and that obnoxious Spongebob laugh kept jolting me out of any productive sleep patterns.  I know the obvious solution would be to either turn the movie down or off, but that required way more effort than I was committing to anything.

The "Feel Better" Brigade

When you need to cheer up a sick sister, call in this guy:

 

He will perform invaluable services that are sure to make her feel better, such as:

• yelling in her ear
• bouncing her up and down right after she's puked
• stealing her crackers
• waking her up by knocking over furniture

These, and many more wonderful benefits can be yours for the low, low price of some Goldfish crackers and milk.

Catch Up Time!

Halloween:

The kids had tons of fun this year.  Despite what you see in this picture:

After he got the hood off (.39349 seconds after this picture was shot), he had a great time running around as 'The Bat' or, as ScarySissy called him: SuperBaby!

I think she would have been more excited to have the same costume as her brother.  She picked hers out and was begging us to let her wear it for almost a month.  We finally got it on her and:

Ten minutes later it was on the floor.  The headband was destroyed in about 1/2 an hour.  Those cutesy ribbons just pull right off, by the way.  Later that night she ran around the house with his hood on and his costume around her neck telling us, "I'm the bat!"

Last Saturday was also a big day for us.  It was our 4th year participating in the Making Strides For Breast Cancer 3-mile walk.  We had one excited walker:

And one really mad one (could have a little to do with the fact that he woke up to me shoving him into his car seat at 5:45 in the morning...):

Don't worry, that didn't last long:

I thought that the hike went really well until I realized at the end that MissyPissyPants had, well, pissed her damn pants.

Right before the walk started:

MissyPissyPants, do you have to go potty?

No, Mama.  No potty.

Are you sure you don't have to go peepee?

No, no peepee.

No.  Lots and lots of peepee, little liar girl. 

Vacation

Psssshtt.  I wish that's why I haven't been writing.  The truth is, the kids are not doing too hot. 

It's been 4 months since we started SaraSchoolGirl in preschool and 4 months since her nose and lungs have been clear of mucus.

It's been 4 months since BoogerBoyBob hasn't had to be wrestled down for a whole day to clear his poor nose.  I'm so glad we don't live in an apartment.

It's been 4 months since I've slept through the night in my own bed.  I do have a nice groove worked into the couch though.

It's been 4 months of always making sure we are well-stocked in anti-fever meds.

It's been 4 months since I've been able to string coherent thoughts together for any sustained period of time.

It's been 4 months since I've questioned why parents are half-crazy.

Bearopus

It's time to come clean with you, NeedyNorman.  You're adopted. 

Your parents were a bear and an octopus.  They were young and just couldn't afford to take care of you properly.  Also, your bear father couldn't very well make a life in the sea with your octopus mother.  She tried to live in the forest, but it just didn't last.  It was very sad.  They loved you very much.

So now you know where you got your ability to maul me so effectively.  Also, those clinging arms that seem to be everywhere, that was your mom's side. 

I know that you probably have a lot to think about right now.  Your Dada and I are here for you.

Pat, Pat, Pat

I just hit my 3rd grade BFF in the face with a ball.  I don't know what he said to me, but I'm sure he deserved it.  Right before he sent his army of robot kittens after me, I managed to leap headlong out of a 4 story window.  I don't remember landing, but I must have managed it somehow, because now I'm hiding in the trunk of my car.

For whatever reason, the kittens have decided that their cuteness isn't powerful enough to damn me to Hell, so they've transformed into The Terminator.  Lots and lots of...The Terminator.  Well, now I'm screwed.  Oh forget this, I'm going home.

The home I lived in when I was 12.  Here, I get to hang out with Cal Worthington and his dog Spot.  For whatever reason, the dog (who is really an elephant) keeps butting into my legs.  What does he want?!

Oh.  It's MidnightMarvin.  He's reaching over his crib rails to pat me on the leg. 

Wakey, wakey Mama Lazybones!  It's 2:15 in the morning and you're still asleep?

All new post:  'Kid For Sale!' coming soon.

Confessions

• My son loves to dance to the theme song to South Park.

• When my daughter asks for candy, we give her ice cream sprinkles.

• We bought our daughter boy clothes.  My son now wears her hand-me-downs.

• When my son scrubbed his nuts with his toothbrush last night, we laughed as he stuck it back in his mouth.

• I sometimes refer to my son as 'Cuddles'.  I hope I outgrow that before he's a teenager.

Some Girl

I don't know when, but at some point Some Girl ended up being my "I'm up at 2:40 a.m. and life is sucking" movie.  I'm just fascinated by Marissa Rabisi's character and her steady decline throughout the movie.  I'm pretty sure that I was jealous that she got to take pyrmaniacal actions against the source of her problems.  I just spoiled the end for anyone who hasn't seen it, but it's really a non-end anyway.

ChrissyCoughs-A-Lot was up at 2:30 hacking the last of her lungs out.  The 3 months solid that she's had her preschool crud has been hard on her.  I can't get mad at her; she hasn't had a decent night's sleep in all that time either.

I listened out for a while, to make sure that she wasn't also throwing up or crying, then snuggled back down into my nice, warm bed.

WWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

That would be SidneySleepKiller.  I don't know if his sister's coughing woke him up or the sound of my comfort.  I pat him on the back and fix his blankets and pray to benevolent sleep spirits.  Those sleep spirits are scumbag twats.  No dice.  I think one of them peed on me.

I take him downstairs to change him and give him a bottle and pray to the benevolent catnap-on-the-couch spirits that this will be everything he needs.  Nope.  By this time Marissa's character is on her way to that special place in my heart.  I wonder if he'll ever sleep.  Well, actually, first I wonder if I've ever seen this movie from the beginning.  Then I wonder how I can come to an arrangement with the evil revenge spirits to sic my fire angel on those bastard catnap-on-the-couch spirits.  Then I wonder if he'll ever sleep.

The movie ends and I'm still holding my baby, trying to get him to calm down without my having to be upright and bouncing.  I think I'm going to trade in this kid's crib for a vibrating lounge chair.  Sure, it'll be expensive, but I'm sure it'll be worth its weight in gold.

He's finally down just in time for the alarm to go off.  Now I'm saying a little prayer to the benevolent coffee spirits.  I think I have an in with these guys. I put their coffee blessings in funny mugs and slip them some Chocolate Caramel cream.  Offerings -- it's all about the offerings.

Can A Mama Get A Table Dance?

I'm not sure what the deal is with ClimbyCody, but lately I can't keep him off of the tops of the furniture.  It started a couple of months ago with the couches.  He has this odd fascination with needing to climb over the backs.  Well, I assume the climbing is his fascination and not the skull-cracking that may result from it.  Who knows what happens in a baby's head.

Lately, his obsession has been with climbing on the dining set I got for the kids.  It's a 2 ft. high table with wooden kid chairs.  The one seen here:

He uses the chair to climb up onto the table.  Then he gets all scared because he's not sure how to get back down.  It's funnier when he gets stuck on the chair.  He shrieks like a housewife desperately escaping a mouse. Now, we're having to store the chair in our playpen when not in use.

It's not limited to the kids' table though.  See the corner of that coffee table.  He'll dance on that for me too.

Boiling Lake Of Lava

That's what Mr.FloorSleeper's crib has turned into.  Well, to listen to his cries for help when I lay him down, one would have to draw that conclusion anyway.  The last week or so, I've been spending night after neck-creaking night on my couch while he sleeps peacefully on the living room floor.

Here are our options:

1. Move my bed downstairs into the living room.  I miss it and I'm not opposed to the labor involved so much as the style and function of having a bed where your couch used to be.
2. Take his crib out of my room and just toss the living room rug up there.  Well, then where to put the crib....?  Next.
3. Stand my ground and force him to cry it out in his crib.  This is more of a non-option.  There are 3 other people in the house that don't deserve to also have sleepless nights.  I also don't have the patience to endure the cry-it-out method.  I view it as avoidance and I'm more of an active fixer.
4. Change his mattress.  We've had these issues before and I thought about doing that, but never got around to it.  His sister's mattress looks awfully comfy and she would sleep on the kitchen table if we let her.  Definitely an option.
   
5. Tell Mr. A. that his shift on the couch has started.  He doesn't like our bed anyway because the mattress is too firm.  Well, buddy, how would you like to spend your nights on a soft, squishy couch instead?  Sounds good to me anyway.
   

The Burger Kingdom

We were having a particularly rough day and Mr. A decided that dinner at Burger King would lift our spirits.  We announce to FrannyFrenchFryFiend that we were going to take her to Burger King.  She got unusually excited and we couldn't figure out why.  So we asked her:

Mr. A.: Baby girl, do you know where we're going?

FFFF:  Going to the BURGER KINGDOM!!!!!

Mr. A.: ............

AwesomeMom:  We're going to Burger King, sweetie.  Do you know what we get at Burger King?

FFFF:  Yeah, yeah, yeah!  Going to the BURGER KINGDOM!!!!!

Awe. Mom:  ..............

Okay, so we watch a lot of Blue's Clues here and, on a couple of the videos, they go to the Numbers Kingdom and whatnot.  She seems to understand the connection that kings live in a kingdom.  Both Mr. A and I were reasonably concerned that she was going to be disappointed thinking that she's going to some magical fantasy place.  I mean, we weren't even going in, just through the drive-thru.  So we wanted to know what she expected to happen when we left the house.

Awe. Mom:  Honey, do you know what we get at the Burger Kingdom?

FFFF:  The KING!  The KING!

Awe. Mom:  ...............

Mr. A.:  ...............

Awe. Mom: They have french fries at the Burger Kingdom.  Do you want fries?

FFFF:  No!!  The KING!  The KING!

I mean, what do you say to that?  My little princess was going to the Burger Kingdom to get the king.  Not something that I thought I'd be dealing with.

On the way in, we were playfully chatting about what sort of stuff a little girl would find at a Burger Kingdom.  The conversation then turned to what would happen if we got pulled over on our way to the Burger Kingdom, because we didn't bother to get dressed.  We weren't naked or anything, but we didn't want anyone shining a flashlight on our respective wardrobes of choice.

So we were doing what we do best and making up the dialogue we would have with the cops.  Mr. A. apparently thinks that the officers where we live are assholes, because he kept punctuating everything "the cop" said with a loud, snotty "PAL!!"

It didn't take long for FrannyFFF to catch on and run with it.  On the way to the Burger Kingdom, after every sentence we said, she would pipe in with "PAL!"  It was cute, however she was carrying on little too much with it, as little kids normally do.  So we asked her to hush it a little.

We get to the drive through and I could tell that FFFF was confused.  There was no castle.  No king or even a princess.  No dragons.  Just french fries.  What a let-down.  We order our food, but the employee kept cutting us off after every food item we mentioned and we were getting frustrated.  The last item we were getting was a large french fry to share.

Burger King employee:  Would you like anything else?

Mr. A.:  Yeah, just a large fries.

FFFF:  PAL!!

So Far, We're Still Pals

HairyScary was starting to look like a mop, so I gave him a haircut today.  I was extremely nervous doing this because 1) I can't cut a straight line to save my life and 2) boys' hair is so much different to cut than girls' hair. With SissyNoBangs (remember that she cut her own hair a few posts back?) it's been pretty easy.  Cut a few hairs in the front.  Only cut the back when her hair starts looking like a yak's.  Got it.

With his hair, I had to try to keep him from squirming (unsuccessfully I might add) while I was cutting around his ears (YIKES!!) and trying not to slip with the scissors too much.

I don't think I did too bad, all things considering.  This is before:

That's birthday cake, I promise.

This is now:

What's That Shiny Sharp Thing?

If my son could type, this is what he would blog about today:

6:30 a.m. Yaaaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwwwwwwnnnnn!  I'm not ready to get up.  Oh man, there's that old lady again.  Where's Mama going?  WWWWAAAAAAAAHHHH!

12:30 p.m. Hey!  It's Mama!! Mama!  Mama!  Why are you putting clothes on me?  I hate clothes.  I. Don't. Want. Clothes.  I'll wiggle around and be a noodle so I don't have to get clothes on.  Drat.  She's stronger than me.  Where are we going?

1:30 p.m. What's this room?  It has a cool picture of a doggy thing on the wall.  What's this padded bench thing?  Ooooooh!  Crinkly paper!

1:35 p.m. Who are you and why are you sticking that doohickey on my head?  Yeah, you better run away.

1:40 p.m. Now who's this person?  Why are you putting that cold thing on my chest?  Get that thing outta my ear!!  Oh, now you're gonna shine a light in my eye?  Well, let me tell ya lady, I......are you taking my diaper off?  DO. I. KNOW. YOU?  Oh, now you're gonna run away?

1:42 p.m. Oh?  Back for more forehead doohickey lady?  Well, let me tell you, I've had just about enough of.........OH MY GOD!  I just got stabbed in the leg.  OH MY GOD!  I just got stabbed in the other leg.  Mama!  Waaaaaahhhh!  I want up!  OH MY GOD!  That bitch just stabbed me in the arm!  Get me outta here, I'm under attack!  OH MY GOD!  She just got the other arm!  You're not even trying to fight her off.  Some mother you are.

Lava Zombie

LavaLarry has been running a fever for the last 2 days. It finally broke last night, thank goodness, but sick babies = glued to mommy. I feel incredibly bad for my babies when they don't feel good but that doesn't mean I want to spend all my time wearing them.

Now, he won't sleep.

He'll scream his head off for 3 hours.

He'll toss his bottle onto the floor and smack my hands for trying to give it to him.

He'll slide off my lap onto the floor then scream louder because he just figured out he can't be on my lap and the floor at the same time.

He'll claw my arms, chest and neck and then get all indignant when I have to put him down because I can't take it anymore.

He'll finally cry himself out, but then wake up every 2 minutes or so to continue crying for about 30 seconds before passing out again.

But sleep? Nope. What sense would that make?

Happy Birthday!

SaberTooth had his first birthday. I can't believe it's already been a year. Well, sometimes. Other times, I can't believe he's not ready for college yet.

1 Year Ago

Today

Hardly looks like the same kid. Anyway, happy birthday little SaberTooth!

That's Disgusting! or Look At Me! I'm A Total Copycat!

I was reading someone else's blog just a minute ago. They listed the top 5 most disgusting things their kids ever ate. I guess I was imagining something horrific based on my experience with my own GarbagePailKids. I was disappointed that her list contained nothing but food items. I'm also ashamed to admit that I have eaten 2 of those items and think a 3rd actually sounded good.

So, in true copycat fashion, here's my top 5 disgusting things I've seen my kids eat:

1. Rug strings. I may have mentioned a few times that we have a shag rug. My preschooler enjoys picking those strings out, wadding them into a ball, and chewing on them. Now I can't say for sure that she actually swallows them, but I can say that it wouldn't surprise me.
2. Foam letters. The kind that you buy for your kids to stick to the bathroom wall. Alone, they are unusual food items, but not terribly disgusting. Until you consider that little kids piss in the tub all the time. My little kids especially.
3. Cat hair. Both my kids have done this. They don't even wait for the hair to die of natural causes and fall off the cat. They just grab a handful right off the kitty and jam it right into their mouth.
4. Toy cars. The wooden kind. My kids are part beaver I think.
5. Dead bugs. Needs no clarification.
   

Letters To The Little Ones

To my precious son,

You are not my conjoined twin. We cut the umbilical cord in the hospital for a reason. Go play. Stop crying like you're being waterboarded if you're not being held.

Naps are great, but if you go to sleep after 7:00 from now on, this will be considered bedtime. You're going to have to work this out. I'm a sleep deprived mess and I'm not going to take it anymore.

Thank you for not getting sick this week.

Lots of Love,
Mama

****

To my lovely daughter,

Crayons are not food. Candles are not food. That spaghetti you won't eat, however, is food.

Thanks for dumping corn starch all over the entire dining room. It was slightly easier to clean off the surfaces than sunblock.

Pulling on my hair is not a good way to get positive attention. Shoving your face in front of my face when I'm trying to blog or read stuff online is not a way to get positive attention. Jumping on my back when I'm trying to get your brother to finally take an early nap is a good way to get yourself exterminated.

It is physically impossible for us to occupy the exact same space. Back.The.Hell.Up.

The next time you get sick, please make sure to get something that your doctor can identify on the spot.

Lots of Love,
Mama

Oh Yeah, The Good News

I wasted all my 10 minutes of alone time yesterday griping about Donny McDrownerson, I forgot that he was also Walker McTexasRanger. He started walking on Sunday. Yep, 3 days ago.

I told Mr. A, but no one else. Not the girls at work. Not my friends. Not my family.

Whoops! Looks like I can forget about Mother of the Year again this year. Drat!

Donnie McDrownerson

You're totally fine, which means I get to simultaneously scold and make fun of you. You almost Darwined yourself out of existence tonight buddy. I was all set to calm you down, get you to sleep, then come over here and blog about what a big boy you are. Then you had to go and give me gray hairs.

BetsyBubbles gets in the tub first. We do that so I don't have to worry about not having a free hand while washing you. You've always been welcome to come join in the grimefighting from the edge of the tub, but not any more.

Now, it seems, you aren't content until you do a little face-diving into the bathtub. Your life's goal was to get that little foam 4 that was floating around next to Sissy's knee. You waited until I got shampoo into Sissy's hair, then SPLOOSH! Who knew you could even make it over the edge of the tub? Huh...

So, of course, I panic and snatched you out. You weren't too happy with me, but I don't care because you lived to be pissed, so to hell with your attitude problem. Dada comes bursting in to see what the deal was. He found you all wet from head to toe -- still fully clothed -- and spluttering. He was supposed to keep an eye on you.....

....but he had to go fight a mutant earwig or some shit with his buddies. Sorry kid. So Mama's frantically trying to get the soap out of Sissy's hair. Do you remember what you did? Right!

SPLOOSH!! Again?! Are you kidding me? Didn't you learn anything from the last time?

So Dada finally either defeats the beast, or he hears that his son is on a suicide mission, and he comes barging in. Well now he'll stick around because he knows you're crazy, right Dada....

Dada? Where the hell..... Oh, apparently we interrupted his Heffalump and Woozle slaying time. Well at least you learned your lesson. Right, Donnie McDrown........

SPLOOSH!