Not me Monday!

Monday again. I think I'll try this "Not me Monday" thing. For some good therapy click on over to MckMama's blog and play along with Not Me Monday!

My Not me Monday:

Long story short I had to buy a car Saturday. I searched on the internet all night Friday night, all day on Saturday preparing for the long hours of beating some poor sales guy up over the numbers with my research in hand. Unfortunately I didn't find the perfect car online and gave up all hope. I went to carmax with two cars in mind, best friend, and best 4 month old in tow for moral support since I couldn't beat anyone up that day (you can't negotiate at Carmax).

I was EXHAUSTED! I test drove two cars, talked myself into the more expensive, nicer one, realized that the gas mileage was unacceptable and changed my mind. After being there an hour, I was back to square one. I don't have the patience for things like this.

So my great sales man (Cason) said, "Let me pull up everything that we have with a 3rd row seat." He found a Ford Freestyle, of which I had never even heard of. Too tired to move at this point, I told him not to bother pulling it around, just to show me pictures on the internet. He forced me to let him drive it around. I took one quick tired glance and I bought it.

So today I'm realizing just how funny it is that I'm too tired to test drive a car before I buy it. Or maybe I'm too impatient. Or maybe I'm the mom of a 25 and a 4 month old. Either way, I didn't spend over $17k on Saturday without so much as sitting in the driver's seat until Sunday! NOOOO, not me!!

I'm confessing, but I had to share

So, to post this one, I'm sharing a little something...but too funny not to share.

SOOO, I have a tattoo that looks something like this on my back. (Sorry that the image is so big. I can't figure out how to shrink it.)

Jackson saw it the other night and said "Ohhh, pretty fly fly!" [Fly Fly is butterfly in two year old language]

Justin thinks it's HILAROUS!

Time to get tattoos removed before I have to explain why he's not allowed to write on himself and draw pretty fly flys on his skin like Mommy.

Oh, stupidity...it'll kick you in the butt every time!

Not my proudest moment

I told my dearest friend this story and she said "that sounds like a blog post." Well, it's not my proudest moment and it's more about me than about my 2 baby dolls, but I'll share it anyway. I hope you enjoy it.

We met Matthew and "Enen" otherwise known as Helen, Matthew's Mommy, at the park on Sunday.

Well, let me back up. Chompers McLaughlin (otherwise known as Jackson) has been known to bite kids at school. We have NEVER seen him do it. Not at playdates, not at the park, never. But we seem to get a lot of notes sent home. One day, we got three. This is VERY upsetting to us, but we've been at a loss of what to do about it. I have always kindof hoped to catch him so that I could discipline him myself rather than allowing his only discipline to be the way they do it at school. Which consists of explaining that we don't hurt our friends and give them a hug. IT'S NOT WORKING!!

SO, back to the park. Jackson found a football and was playing with it for a long time. I just assumed that the kid must have left the ball there. Graham was being fussy because I was talking with friends while feeding him and not providing the most perfect serene environment in which to enjoy his bottle. My stress levels started to rise a little because of Graham's squirmy fussy bottle wrestling moves and then it happened.

A five year old boy (that I THINK goes to my church) said "that's my ball" and ran up to Jackson and took his ball back. And then, ball in hand, said "He bit me!"

A flood of emotions go through my head. I'm actually kindof happy that I finally get to address our biting issue and it wasn't one of his friends that I am friends with their mommies. (Is that bad?) I'm actually kindof happy that it was a big kid that didn't scream bloody murder and he really didn't hurt him. BUT I'm HORRIBLY embarrassed, I have a fussy infant that is half way through a bottle in my arms and my 2 year old is screaming. I apologize to the kid as I blow past him to get on to Jackson while holding Graham like a football. Graham is NOT happy about this whole situation. I get on to Jackson and make him give the football back to the kid (his dad made him give it to the screaming 2 year old while I was charging my way over there). I got on to Jackson and quickly decided that this was too much stress to handle. I buckled Graham in the car. I went to get Jackson, ATTEMPTED to get him to apologize to the kid and all I got was his look. It's the look that he does when he knows he's in trouble. He turns his chin away from me and rolls his eyes toward the sky, but rolls them down to peek at me every other second. LIKE HE CAN'T HEAR ME! Of course, he didn't say I'm sorry (he never has) and I'm TOTALLY mad and embarrassed. I load Jackson into the car kicking and screaming.

I decided that I'm just WAY to stressed to get on Hwy 31 so I attempt to navigate my way through the neighborhood to get home. Graham is crying in the backseat because he was only half way done with his bottle, and Jackson was crying because of the drama of the whole situation. I turned to look at a street sign to figure out where the heck I was and I NAILED a guy's mailbox. Took it clean off the post. I successfully didn't cuss in front of my screaming kids (an accomplishment in itself) and I turned into the next driveway to turn around and walk the walk of shame to the guys front door, mailbox in hand. A gawker was blocking my way out of backing out of the driveway to turn around and my blood pressure rose a little more. When he FINALLY decided to move out of my way, I backed out of the driveway and pulled back in front of the dreaded mailbox. I put my car in park, turned on my hazards, got out of my car and realized that another gawker was STILL sitting there staring at me through her driver's side mirror.

Here's my proud moment:

I aggressively charged her car, bowed up at her, and with my arms in the air yelled "WHAT?" She did the whole Oh God! She sees me! head duck and pulled away. Idiot.

I picked up the mailbox and dragged mself to his front door. I could hear Jackson yelling "DOOR" in the background because he wanted to go too. I rang the doorbell and no one answered. Relieved that I didn't have to admit my stupidity in person, I went back to my car and wrote him a note to call me and I'll buy him a new mailbox. As I was walking back up to his front door, he came out of the house and met me in the yard. I apologized profusely, and we talked for a while. He thought he could fix the mailbox and said he'd call me if he couldn't. Then he said that he was glad I stopped and that someone had hit his dog the day before and hadn't stopped. Then he informed me that the dog had died. Well that did it. I broke down and started to cry. I quickly excused myself as not to embarrass myself any more for the afternoon, and got into my car.

My stress climaxed while trying to get Jackson to tell Daddy what happened at the park and relaying the story of my afternoon and I sat at the table, fed Graham the rest of his bottle, had a good cry, and drank a big glass of wine.

Why does that make the whole day feel better?

Things I have learned. Part 3.

Things I have learned, Part 3:

Vocabulary of a 24 month old and a few other jewels of wisdom:

Truck is spelled F-R-U-C-K. Well, at least that's how it's pronounced so it must be spelled that way...even in public.

It doesn't matter in which order you say numbers 1 through 6, nor which ones you miss, as long as you end with "samen, eight, nine, TEEEEENNNNN"!

If you keep saying "noses?" while your mom is tucking you in, she will stay in your room indefinitely and keep giving you eskimo kisses. Even if it's 57 times.

FIRST thing in the morning, crawl in bed with Mommy and whisper "I hungy. I eat?" It doesn't matter if she hasn't slept a wink, she will get up and make you "besfast."

If you say "Monkey? George Monkey?" when Mommy has on the morning news, she will change it to Curious George even though she doesn't want to.

If you say, "Paaaayy, Daddy!" Daddy will close his laptop and play with you everytime. And then he'll smile and say "Paaayyy, Daddy" everytime he thinks about how dang cute you are.

When two year olds say "Hush, Sadie!," the dog doesn't listen.

If you say "Baby keeeessth," Mommy will get the baby and bring him to you so you can kiss his head. Even if your face is covered in spaghetti.

Babies heads smell like whatever your 2 year old ate for dinner.

If you say "OH POO POO!" during naptime, your mom will run into your room REALLY FAST! (see prior blogs)

If you say "pay? park?" when your mom wants to go to the grocery store, you MAY be able to talk her into a detour.

No matter how many times you sing it, your mom STILL doesn't know the words to the new songs you sing at school.

It's fun to sing random words and make mommy guess which song you're trying to sing ALL the way home from school.

Even though two year olds can bounce, sometimes they don't.

If the sun is in your eyes in the car, keep yelling "ASSES!!!" over and over, your mom will give you your sunglasses when she stops laughing.

When you wear your "asses" on your head like daddy does, the sun is still in your eyes.

This is how I know he's my son - a story in pictures

For anyone that has known me for any length of time you know I sleep hard and long. I require 9 hours per night (maybe this is why the last 3 months have been so rough!)
You may also know that I can sleep anytime anywhere and in any position. I fell asleep at a red light once in college. Here are a few pictures of J sleeping. Justin and I routinely go in his room while he's sleeping to check him out and take pictures of what we find. Some are precious and some are just HILARIOUS!
This is my child. He's a sleeper just like me:













Yes, in the bathtub.













This is the EXACT position that I sleep:
















And this is the one that made me think to write this blog. He actually has his sippy cup in his hand. Click on it and you will see the puddle of drool. He was sleeping HARD!

Happy Big #2 Jackson!!!!

A little over two years ago, I was pregnant with my "Booger." (Yes, that's what I call him...deal with it.) I commented several times that I cannot imagine how anyone who has ever had a child could say that they don't believe in God. While you are "cooking" a baby as I like to call it, each moment is intricately planned. Each system in the human body begins forming in a perfectly timed order. Everything happens in a particular order and in a particular place and the end result is a perfect, intricate system that makes up a baby boy or girl. It's a miracle every single time.

I was lucky to have 2 easy pregnancies. If a pregnancy can possibly be easy that is. The day that we found out that Jackson was on the way was certainly one of the happiest days of my life. He is INCREDIBLE. Justin laughs about him being this "little person." He says that he is a whole person, just smaller. It sounds silly, but it really is amazing. It's amazing the way that they grow inside their mommies. It's amazing the way that they are born. It's amazing the way that they grow. It's amazing the way that they learn and develop and figure things out.

My whole person, just smaller, is turning two years old in about 9 hours. We've been talking a lot about birthdays so that he will understand his own birthday. He calls it Happy Day Day. He was sitting in his high chair eating dinner tonight and caught the sight of the iced cookies on the counter that I bought for him to bring to school tomorrow and started saying "Happy Day Day" "Peas?" "Happy Day Day" "PEEEAAASS" We actually threw a small blanket over them and he completely forgot that they were there. Outta sight outta mind. A blanket on the counter? He doesn't even notice.

When I brought my little miracle home from the hospital, I had to have him as close as possible every single moment and he slept in a cradle next to my side of the bed. I distinctly remember the first night that he was home. I was sitting on the edge of my bed, chin in my hands, watching his chest rise and fall. I didn't understand SIDS, but I knew that as long as I saw his chest rise and fall every single time then he was ok. I was so exhausted and finally I prayed. I said, "God, it's your turn now. You'll have to watch his chest for me while my eyes are closed." I was actually able to rest knowing that God was sitting on the edge of my bed, chin in His hands, making sure that tiny little chest was rising and falling as it should. Sometimes I forget that God was letting me borrow him for the next __ years. I'm SO glad that he did. God couldn't have picked a more incredible kid for me to take care of for Him. It's been two years now and some days are a challenge, and some are just fun, but all are a blessing. I hope that I'm living up to God's expectations. I hope I'm raising that precious little boy to be the man that God wants him to be. I hope that God looks down and is proud of his little boy, and proud of the manner in which he is being taught, and disciplined, and encouraged. It's a little overwhelming to remember that God only lets us borrow his tiny angels, and relies on us to take care of them on earth. I'm so glad that he continues to help us everytime we need his assistance!

Two years...they have FLOWN! I am amazed every day at that little guy. I'm so proud of him.

Happy Day Day Jackson!

It's that hand again!

The moment when an infant discovers his hand is such an adorable thing. They are just laying there looking at whatever their mom has strung up over them to play with and all of a sudden...out of nowhere...there goes that hand again! They make every possible effort with those jerky little muscles of theirs to see it again. And...there it is! This time they stop and stare at the balled up little fist as if it's the most foreign of objects. But somehow, it's always there. They turn it in different directions, with lips pursed and serious eyebrows in deep concentration until, in a moment, they lose control of the fist, it leaves their line of sight, and the mysterious object is again forgotten.

I was watching Graham and his little fist tonight and was reminded about the day that Jackson discovered his first flower. It was one of those long purple flowers that grows in monkey grass and he was old enough to sit up, but not old enough to crawl. I'll never forget the spark that lit up his eyes as he leaned in toward the flower and reached his pudgy arm out and gently touched the flower with those tiny fat fingers. He was delighted and curious and amazed. I happened to have my camera in the yard and took his picture as he played with it, but I knew I'd never catch the look in his eye on camera. You had to be there to really really see it. The look of discovery. To see something beautiful for the very first time.

I wish I took the time to enjoy the wonder of a flower, but like most people, I pass it by. We have actually dug all of that monkey grass up and gotten rid of it now! Ironic.

This Thanksgiving, let's take a few minutes to be wowed by the simple things that God created. He put a lot of thought into each and every petal of each and every varying flower. He put even more thought into the human body, I'm sure. Not everyone gets to see a pudgy little fist all balled up to enjoy, but enjoy the fact that He carefully and thoughtfully made you. That we have each other. That we have health, and life, and joy...and flowers.

Mommy Guilt

I sent Jackson to his room the other night in the middle of dinner for squealing incesantly and disobeying. Well, I'll be more specific-the abbreviated version:
"Jackson, stop squealing"
"Ehhhh". This went on for a little while...
" Do you want to go to your room?"
"No"
"Then stop squealing-Mommy said for you not to do that"
This is where he cut his eyes at me and let out another "Eeeeehhhh"

I left him in his room for 5 minutes or so and he was screaming the whole time. It's amazing how such a simple punishment can hurt his feelings SO badly! When I finally returned to have the "talk" about why he was sent to his room and about obeying Mommy all he could say was "Mama, I cying" "I cying, Mama". It was pitiful. I said "I know Baby, that's kindof the point...it's a punishment."

"I cying"-that kid kills me. He honestly wondered why I didn't swoop in and save him. After all, he was cying.

Really?

Yes, they start THIS early...and yes, he is sound asleep

Never give a stressed out Mom a meat cleaver

So, I spent the better part of my afternoon in the urgent care center today. Why? Well because having two under two, a career, and running a household just isn't enough-that's why. I also need to rid myself of the use of my left hand and to be forbidden to get it wet for 2 weeks-THAT should do it!

I was CRAVING roasted winter vegetables (thanks, Helen) and got Graham settled and happy in his bouncey seat. I decided that it would be easiest to chop that tough butternut squash using a meat cleaver. Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time anyway.

I had gotten only two chops in when I slammed it down as hard as I could a third time.

It could have been from sheer shock and horror, but I've somehow erased the memory of why in the world I decided to put my left hand in the way.I'm actually VERY lucky that I didn't chop my finger off- pure luck.

I looked down, grabbed a handful of napkins, went into the living room to get Graham out of his seat, who was happy to see me and grinned and started talking. Not for long! I scooped him up with my good arm, plopped him in his car seat, miraculously buckled it with one hand, and off we went.

We walked in to the urgent care center, left hand still above my head and announced that I almost cut my finger off. I was quickly herded to the trauma room.

I successfully did not get a drop of blood on Graham to the amazement of the nurses. They were all announcing to each other-she didn't get any blood on the baby and LOOK AT HER HAND! (I'm an inspiration to them all.)

I'm not sure how many stitches I have because I was too busy trying to calm the nervous medical resident assigned to me-I think 10 or so. To his defense, I did run out of the house without a bottle and Graham was telling me how dumb I was for that and for allowing the whole thing to happen in the first place. Which reminds me, I need to write a thank you card to the nurse who hugged and shushed him for an hour.

Ah, Life...

My time is up

So Graham told me that my time is up tonight. It went like this:

We planned to meet Jeffrey and Matthew at Boo at the Zoo and I was excited. I packed and loaded Graham in the car. We stopped at J's school, picked him up and off we went. We arrived at the Birmingham Zoo and Matthew and Matthew's Mommy and Daddy were not far behind. Daddy met us there and so did Jeffrey and his parents. Jackson was in a great mood, and Graham was too. Lots of fun (see pics)











After a wonderful evening of trick or treating, a train ride,a hay ride, feeding ducks...tons of fun. THEN, In the middle of the carousel ride, Graham determined that it was time to go home...

NOW.
He started screaming bloody murder. My blood pressure started to go up, but I ain't seen nothin' yet. The rest of the evening went a little like this:

Whah! Whah! Whah! Whah! Whah! Whah! Whah! Whah!

"Ok guys: ya'll have fun - Graham and I are leaving." Whah! Whah!

Off I went steering the big ol' long double stroller through the crazy crowded zoo.
Whah! Whah!

Move people move...it's getting worse....
Whah! Whah!

I'm weaving through people like the dogs at the dog show weave through those cones. Whah! Whah!

I'm almost to the gate. Whah! Whah!

Oh, crap I have Helen's purse in the stoller. Whah! Whah!

I whooped that big long stroller around and weaved back through the crowd of children dressed in their costumes all hyped up on candy. Whah! Whah!

Finally, we made it back to the group. Whah! Whah!

I tossed Helen her purse. Whah! Whah!

"Sorry guys, I gotta go. See ya'll later." Whah! Whah!

Back through this dang crowd again I go... Whah! Whah!

Through the gate and to the car. Whah! Whah! Whah! Whah!

I start throwing things. Diaper bag, out of stroller, into car. Whah! Whah!

Bottle case, out of stroller, into car. Whah! Whah!

Graham's costume, into car. Whah! Whah!

2 dirty bibs, 3 pacies, 2 bottles of water, cell phone, camera...KEYS KEYS KEYS...there they are. Whah! Whah!

I start to pull the pumpkin seat off of the stroller. Whah! Whah!

It won't come off! Whah! Whah!

I'm jerking the seat and tugging and jerking and the stupid thing won't come off! Whah! Whah!

What's wrong with this stupid car seat? Whah! Whah!

Helen and Lurenda arrive..."Can we help?" Whah! Whah!

"I wish we could help you with this stroller" (they are both pregnant) Whah! Whah!

"Do you have it?" Whah! Whah! "There's still a bag in the bottom" Whah! Whah! "Do you have it?" (They are great cheerleaders! They must have seen the sheer stress in my eyes)Whah! Whah!

Finally, with a POP the seat pops off of the stroller! I plop the pumpkin seat in the car, break down the stroller, toss it in the trunk, try to close the trunk, it won't close, try again, crap, rearrange, try again, rearrange, try again - success! "gotta go" I get in the car and there is ...silence...

wow, this is great...I might make it home in peace - thank you, God.

Whah! Whah! Whah! Whah! Whah! Whah!

MAN! GET OUT OF MY WAY, STUPID HYBRID! Whah! Whah!

YOU DON'T HAVE TO GO 2 MILES PER HOUR! GO! GO! FOR GOD'S SAKE GO! Whah! Whah!

You have it! Go! We're turning RIGHT! GO! Whah! Whah!

Really, we're gonna just sit here? oh finally...Whah! Whah!

Should I take 31 or the interstate Whah! Whah!

slow down Meredith Whah! Whah!

I hope whichever policeman pulls me over has kids and understands Whah! Whah!

I hope Justin and Jackson are having a better trip home than we are Whah! Whah!

slow down, Meredith Whah! Whah!

what's the speed limit?! Whah! Whah!

I'm definitely getting pulled over tonight. I need to slow down. Whah! Whah!

NNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOO! I caught it red!

Whah! Whah! Whah! Whah!

Turn green turn green turn green Whah! Whah!

oh good

Whah! Whah!

almost homeWhah! Whah!


Is it faster to pull into the driveway on two wheels? Cause I think I just did. Whah! Whah!

"I'm coming, Graham."

We get inside, drop all of our stuff, get him unbuckled,

Whah! Whah!

and FINALLY, we're upstairs.

I just need to get him in the tub and this night will be over... Whah! Whah!

I lay Graham on his changing pad and this is what I get:

Little Sh*t.



Enjoy the video:

Jackson bragging

Every afternoon when I pick Jackson up from day care, I am carrying Graham. And every day, like clockwork, when I walk in I am IMMEDIATELY surrounded by 10 little 2 year olds all saying "Baby" "Baby"! It's very exciting apparently.

Jackson loves this moment, because he gets to show off that he is the big brother and that "Baby" "Baby" is his "Baby" "Baby". He boastfully walks over and kisses Graham on the head and says "Hey Baby" in that high pitched way that adults say "Hey" to a tiny baby. He then proceeds to look around and make sure all of his friends saw him do it and puffs up his chest like the proud big brother that he is. Today, he looked at all the kids and proudly announced "My Baby!"

I love that kid.

I wish

I was tickling Jackson's face with one of his stuffed animals' tails tonight.

I wish I could take his laugh and put it in a box to carry around with me. It's the most innocent, pure, delightful sound in the whole world.

Things I have learned Part 2:

Ice Cream.
Even a small bowl of ice cream at 4:30 pm can make a toddler stay awake until 9:30 (2 hrs past bedtime). Even just a small bowl of emergency ice cream given to him just to make him sit still long enough for me to feed Graham while we're shopping. It doesn't matter the reason, nor the convenience, no ice cream for toddlers if Mommy wants Mommy time that night!

Graham

Graham has started "talking." I forgot how adorable it is. I've been concentrating really hard for so long on learning my 2nd language, Jibber Jabber and now I have to brush back up on an old favorite, Cooing.

My garbage men rock!

Every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday morning (trash day, recycle day, and trash day) the same thing happens. Jackson runs excitedly to me (no matter how many babies, bottles, diapers etc that I have in my hands) and says "Big truck! Hand! Big truck! Hand! Hand!" He grabs my hand, drags me away from whatever I was doing...which drops to the floor, and leads me to the front door. I then hear it...the garbage truck is like 3 streets away! His ears are amazing, but ONLY for things he wants to hear. I must not say "Jackson, come here" loud enough because that is impossible to hear apparently.
Back to the story.
So we head to the front door and watch the "big truck" dump everyone's trash up and down the street as he whispers "big truck" inceasantly. Then, the men wave Bye to him, yell out a roll tide, and... HONK! They may as well be superheros to that little boy- he is THAT amazed to see them every time.

Oh, Mess

Jackson drug his potty(otherwise known as his step stool) into the baby's room while Graham was buckled on to his changing pad. I heard this happening and headed that way myself. As I was walking down the hallway I heard Jackson say "Oh, messth" (he has a lysp) and walked in to find him on his tippy toes wiping up Graham's spit up with his shirt. It was sweet and cute in a gross way. By the way, it's the pot calling the kettle black when Jackson talks about someone else's mess! (See picture)

Things I have learned:

Things I have learned part 1:
Bad ideas for Halloween oufits.
Popeye the sailor man is only funny in your mind for a 23 month old. He will only look like a baby carrying around a pipe and you will get ugly looks from the other Mommys at the public library Halloween story reading event.

a car ride with a 23 month old

Please imagine if you will a screaming 7 week old in the background to get the full effect:

J:"Big truck. BIG truck. Truck truck... Ca? Mama, ca?"
M:"Yes, baby, that's a car. Can you say red car!?
J:"Ca. Coo. Oooooooo, big truck! Oh Coo. big truuuuuck. Oh man! Big truck!" (Whisper) "truck" (yell) "BIG TRUCK BIG TRUCK BIG TRUCK, Mama! BIG TRUCK"
M: yea
J:"Papa big truck" "oh man" "papa big truck"
M: "no, baby that's a truck but it's white. Papa's truck is silver."
J: "Papa" "papa big truck" ... "Ca! Mama, ca! .... Plane! Plane! Oh coo, mama plane! Bye bye plane bye bye. Truck! Big truck"
M:"yes, baby that's a big truck. Let's talk about something else- who did you play with at school today?"

"GASP!"(A gasp like he's never seen it before) "BIG TRUCK"

My little artist

So, I've mentioned the "Get your hand out of your pants, Jackson" problem before. Well, I'd like to chronicle a story... during this story I will refer to Jackson as angel. This is so that I don't develop a twitch. You'll understand in a moment.

It was a long day...Jackson was home sick from school while I was nearing the end of my maternity leave and I talked Justin into coming home from lunch during naptime to sit with my 2 under 2 while I ran to get the world's fastest haircut.

We had great day. I wanted to go to the park, but my battery died in my car. So front lawn picinc it was! We ate some lunch, and I tried to get the boys down for a nap. Jackson didn't want to sleep, but Justin tried his best. I arrived home and tried some more. He was in his room, but was just talking to himself as he does a lot during naptime. I didn't think much of it...he was resting and that was good enough. Well, I decided to get him and let him out of his room...he wasn't sleeping anyway...and I walked in... to his art show. THERE WAS POO EVERYWHERE! On his bed, on his carpet, on the glider, on the ottoman, on his stuffed animals, on him, on his socks, in his hair...EVERYWHERE!

The little blonde haired blue eyed angel innocently looked up and said "Poo poo Gross" Poo Poo Gross, really. NO KIDDING! I don't remember what I said nor how I responded. I turned into mommy machine and tossed my poo covered angel into the tub. LUCKILY, the one month old was happy (whew!). In walked Stacy, who asked which one made such a stinky diaper and I invited her into the bedroom to show her exactly what she was asking. I grabbed the nail scrubber...yes, he had it under his nails... and started scrubbing. Jackson was so excited about this new development! A bath in the middle of the day! What fun! I held back from killing the little angel proceeded to wash his sheets with a water hose in the front yard and spray the carpet with 12 gallons of ... OH NO! I'M OUT OF CARPET CLEANER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The whole while, Stacy is doing my disciplining for me...thank you, Stacy. I hear her saying, "Jackson, that's a no no!" and Jackson is saying "Poo poo gross".

God help me.

The next day...I heard him wake up. I tiptoed to his door to see if he was really awake. I listened. And then I heard it... "Poo Poo!" I flung open the door but I was too late. More poo...all over the bed.

Onesies onesies onesies...next nap - he's sleeping in a onesie with duck tape.

Welcome to the 21st Century, Old timer

I've always been an old soul...no, I don't drink warm milk at night (I drink "Mommy's milk aka wine), but an old soul nonetheless. I would rather curl up on the couch on Saturday night with my hubby, a glass of wine, and a good movie than go to ANY party in ANY town. This isn't new-I've felt this way since I was 20 (and married already). See what I mean?

I'm a believer in technology; don't get me wrong. I've been paying bills online since I opened my first bank account, and as a banker myself, I LOVE the products that we have to make a business more cost effective and more efficient than ever using technology. But this online stuff...maybe I was embarrassed that myspace interested me. It's for "teenyboppers" right? My baby sister set me up with an account, I hooked up with old friends, and I was off! I loved it. Now there's facebook-even better! Why do I tell this story? Because I read a blog from my friend and fell in love with this! Not because I want to plaster my life for the world to see, but because I can chronicle, in seconds, these funny moments that I call life. Moments that only a mom would crack a smile at...because somewhere deep inside...it's familiar...all too familiar.

So my blog page is pink because there is way too much blue in my life. I have a husband, a 22 month old all boy boy and a 7 week old baby boy. And me, I'm a little bit of a tomboy...always have been. So pink it is!

This busy mom who forgets to write in the baby book and emails herself to do items (i.e."J school dipes"[jackson needs diapers at school, bring them tomorrow] and "ft J sch" [set an appointment near this time on my calendar and near Jackson's school so I can stop by Jackson's school and take pictures of the fire truck visit today]) etc. can chronicle the best moments in life-the moments that make me stop telling Jackson to stop putting his hand down his pants for the THOUSANTH time and start to just smile. Because these are the days of our lives-the days from the perspective of a mom, a mom of 2 under 2.