My back started to go out yesterday. When this happens the only thing between me lying motionless in my bed and having to call my neighbors for 'bathroom' reinforcements is some serious hydrocodone. Thank goodness we had some left over in our cupboard from Chris's surgery last year. One of my awesome neighbors took my older boys for a few hours yesterday while Brayden slept, so I could get some rest. She then (of course because she is awesome like that) brought dinner by - without asking. She probably knows I would have said "no, really, we will be fine" because I wouldn't have wanted to bother her. She has 5 kids of her own and a very busy husband. And then we all would have eaten a bowl of Fruit Loops for dinner. Can I just say, I am SO thankful she served me! I want to be more like her. And my back is doing better today.
Anyways... another Carter update -
I was in the bath this morning, and he of course, was in something else... He came running in with his mouth gaping open, pointing to his obvious mouth ajar, hollering open mouth talk, and I had to laugh.
"Did you eat something, Carter?"
"Yeah, mom!" Said in a panicked, slash, perlexingly urgent manner. "I Drinkded something!"
"What did you drink?" I said with a little dread in my voice.
"I drinkded a potion mom!"
"Can you bring it to me?"
"Yeah mom!" he said as he scampered off. Only to return with our huge bottle of Vanilla extract, half gone.
"Did you drink a lot, or a little bit?"
"Huh mom?"
"Did you spill some?"
"Yeah Mom."
"It tastes yucky, huh?"
"Yeah mom!!!" Said in utter disgust.
As I contemplated calling poison control, I went out to the kitchen to see our floor covered with spilt vanilla extract and next to it, the measuring spoons. Needless to say, someone has observed someone else making Chocolate Chip Cookies... one to many times!!!
And on another random note, Is there ANYTHING worse than finding Big Boy Poop in their Big Boy Underwear?!
I think not!!!
Let's just say another perfectly good pair of Lightning McQueen's bit the dust!
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Monday, May 4, 2009
Bedtime Battles, the finale
And here is the exciting conclusion... (By the way, this three part series was meant to be told comicaly, and of course, dramatically... I really am just having fun writing it all. And although it is all very true, and I'm not going to sugar coat it... at least, I crack myself up in the process. Hope some of you can relate to having a strong willed child, and can find my humor in it all!)
Tonight was no exception. The night ensued, just as I have told. Hollering, lights turning on, giggling, WHAKING by big brother, and of course, my favorite part of the evening when I totaly lose it after he starts throwing items down the stairs.
And then it occured to me. He may be winning the battles, but I AM GOING TO WIN THE WAR. I decided to confiscate THESE instead.
And then I moved the gate up around the corner to the actual doorway. HA SUCKAH! Who's your momma?! That's right!
Next step: Actually taking away his pacifiers.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Bedtime Battles Part II
I finally caved.
I told him the fairy brought them back.
I KNOW!! I couldn't believe I gave in either! I was too big and fat and pregnant, and just so dang TIRED of listening to the pleading - he totally wore me down. After 10 days, I just wanted to make it stop! He about had me crouched in a corner rocking and singing to myself. So I gave him his fix. And he actually went to bed good for like, a week. I think the experience traumatized him enough that he didn't want to lose them again. NOW, its all in the past of course and he is back to taunting me.
I recently switched all the kids rooms around so I could get Brayden out of my room and into his own. Jacob and Carter now share the room upstairs. I thought maybe Jacob's blessed example would rub off on his little brother. Not so much. Every night I usually end up letting Jacob come downstairs to go to bed. Carter is making him crazy. Here is the low down on the typical nightly battle...
I ask the two year old nicely to go potty, put on his pull-up and PJ's and go get his toothbrush. He says "Ok Mom", gets distracted immediately, and then proceeds to poke, prod, and otherwise annoy big brother and sister to which they then decide to chase him around couches, up stairs, in and out of bedrooms and under tables, until I catch said two year old, and again, firmly ask again for him to do as he was told. He says "Ok mom." To which end the same scene is then repeated. I then raise my voice at big brother and sister and remind them that they are BIG kids and are NOT helping things. All the while the baby is crying and wants to eat. I then chase the two year old around until I catch him and wrestle his clothes off which he grabs with his fists every night without fail and I yank for about 30 seconds trying to get his shirt off. He thinks this is SO FUNNY every night. (Okay, it kinda is, but just that part). I then wrestle him down to put on pj's and brush teeth. He then of course is TOTALLY disruptive while I try and read books; to which end, most nights, I totally lose my cool and get fully ticked off and irritated that I can't read a dang book without disruption like every 30 seconds.... Big Breath here... Then we attempt to have family prayer... where I snap at the kids for their complete irreverence - that could be an entire post by itself - I really know how to create a warm and loving spiritual environment... I then try to usher my unruly herd, who are by the way laughing and being overly silly, completely oblivious to my outright annoyance with the lot of them, who are also completely oblivious as well to the hollering from their baby brother which is getting louder all the while reminding me that he is HUNGRY and ready for his meal. I finally get everyone tucked in, have a lengthy conversation with Carter about my expectations for him at bedtime - that he stay in his bed, leave his brother alone, leave the light off, stay in his bed, leave his brother alone, leave the LIGHT OFF, please. I then make him repeat after me "Mom, I will stay in bed and choose the right." he then says, "Ok mom." I put the gate on half way up the stairs so he won't come down and bug me. I then head downstairs and start to nurse the baby for all of 5 seconds when I hear feet scampering, a light clicking on, another set of feet thudding, a little voice giggle, and another irritated voice holler "MO-ooooom! Carter turned the light on!" I am nursing, and really don't want to get up, so I holler back to both of them to turn the light off and get in bed. Then Carter says his believable "Ok mom." Then this battle ensues. Back and forth, hollering and clicking of lights and giggling, and jumping on beds, and undoubtedly a WHACK! and then a sob, because he had pushed Jacob over the line of tolerance. Jacob, after all is tired and he actually wants to go to bed. He has to get up at 6:15 after all. I raise my voice and holler back repeatedly during this exchange, and I always feel guilty afterwards because of poor Brayden. He is just trying to peacefully nurse and get snuggled on by his momma. He has waited all day for this time with me by himself without the rest of the crazies running around. He really doesn't demand all that much from me during the day after all. And what finally pushes ME over the edge, is when Carter starts throwing things down the stairs. Talk about going too far. I have resorted lately to putting down the baby, hurdling the gate on the stairs, spanking a little bum, and swiping a pacifier. He then throws his monstrously annoying fit to get his "PAAAASSSSSS" back, and I have been so proud of myself when he actually gets quiet and goes to sleep without it.... That is until I go in to check on him later that night and find that he has another pacifier in his mouth! That dang kid. He must have a secret 'stash' somewhere in case of emergency so he can get his fix. This happens on more occasions than I can count. Most nights he seems to be winning the battle.
To be continued....
I told him the fairy brought them back.
I KNOW!! I couldn't believe I gave in either! I was too big and fat and pregnant, and just so dang TIRED of listening to the pleading - he totally wore me down. After 10 days, I just wanted to make it stop! He about had me crouched in a corner rocking and singing to myself. So I gave him his fix. And he actually went to bed good for like, a week. I think the experience traumatized him enough that he didn't want to lose them again. NOW, its all in the past of course and he is back to taunting me.
I recently switched all the kids rooms around so I could get Brayden out of my room and into his own. Jacob and Carter now share the room upstairs. I thought maybe Jacob's blessed example would rub off on his little brother. Not so much. Every night I usually end up letting Jacob come downstairs to go to bed. Carter is making him crazy. Here is the low down on the typical nightly battle...
I ask the two year old nicely to go potty, put on his pull-up and PJ's and go get his toothbrush. He says "Ok Mom", gets distracted immediately, and then proceeds to poke, prod, and otherwise annoy big brother and sister to which they then decide to chase him around couches, up stairs, in and out of bedrooms and under tables, until I catch said two year old, and again, firmly ask again for him to do as he was told. He says "Ok mom." To which end the same scene is then repeated. I then raise my voice at big brother and sister and remind them that they are BIG kids and are NOT helping things. All the while the baby is crying and wants to eat. I then chase the two year old around until I catch him and wrestle his clothes off which he grabs with his fists every night without fail and I yank for about 30 seconds trying to get his shirt off. He thinks this is SO FUNNY every night. (Okay, it kinda is, but just that part). I then wrestle him down to put on pj's and brush teeth. He then of course is TOTALLY disruptive while I try and read books; to which end, most nights, I totally lose my cool and get fully ticked off and irritated that I can't read a dang book without disruption like every 30 seconds.... Big Breath here... Then we attempt to have family prayer... where I snap at the kids for their complete irreverence - that could be an entire post by itself - I really know how to create a warm and loving spiritual environment... I then try to usher my unruly herd, who are by the way laughing and being overly silly, completely oblivious to my outright annoyance with the lot of them, who are also completely oblivious as well to the hollering from their baby brother which is getting louder all the while reminding me that he is HUNGRY and ready for his meal. I finally get everyone tucked in, have a lengthy conversation with Carter about my expectations for him at bedtime - that he stay in his bed, leave his brother alone, leave the light off, stay in his bed, leave his brother alone, leave the LIGHT OFF, please. I then make him repeat after me "Mom, I will stay in bed and choose the right." he then says, "Ok mom." I put the gate on half way up the stairs so he won't come down and bug me. I then head downstairs and start to nurse the baby for all of 5 seconds when I hear feet scampering, a light clicking on, another set of feet thudding, a little voice giggle, and another irritated voice holler "MO-ooooom! Carter turned the light on!" I am nursing, and really don't want to get up, so I holler back to both of them to turn the light off and get in bed. Then Carter says his believable "Ok mom." Then this battle ensues. Back and forth, hollering and clicking of lights and giggling, and jumping on beds, and undoubtedly a WHACK! and then a sob, because he had pushed Jacob over the line of tolerance. Jacob, after all is tired and he actually wants to go to bed. He has to get up at 6:15 after all. I raise my voice and holler back repeatedly during this exchange, and I always feel guilty afterwards because of poor Brayden. He is just trying to peacefully nurse and get snuggled on by his momma. He has waited all day for this time with me by himself without the rest of the crazies running around. He really doesn't demand all that much from me during the day after all. And what finally pushes ME over the edge, is when Carter starts throwing things down the stairs. Talk about going too far. I have resorted lately to putting down the baby, hurdling the gate on the stairs, spanking a little bum, and swiping a pacifier. He then throws his monstrously annoying fit to get his "PAAAASSSSSS" back, and I have been so proud of myself when he actually gets quiet and goes to sleep without it.... That is until I go in to check on him later that night and find that he has another pacifier in his mouth! That dang kid. He must have a secret 'stash' somewhere in case of emergency so he can get his fix. This happens on more occasions than I can count. Most nights he seems to be winning the battle.
To be continued....
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Bedtime battles
Two year old boys are the bane of my existence.
Jacob was my angel baby. He was the easiest baby ever. Slept through the night at two weeks old, hung around in his swing, vibrating seat and bouncy saucer all day, loved to laugh and smile at us, and never fought me once at nap time or bedtime. It was a refreshing help to me, because I had bedtime battles with Bailey up until she was almost 4 years old. Bedtime was a torturous time in my life for years. It hasn't helped that Chris has always had a job incompatible with him being home during dinner and bedtime 99% of the time. I even resorted to watching super-nanny for tips. And her 'back to bed' routine actually worked... like after 2 years of trying it nightly...
Although Jacob was a bedtime champ, about 18 months - to 2 years old rolled around and he became this holy force to be reckoned with. I would fight with him daily. That kid sat in time-out more times in a single day than I could count. He got into anything and everything faster than I could stop him. I even had those safety locks on all my cupboards and doors, and he still figured out how to get what he wanted. I had to have called poison control about 150 million times. I swear they knew me by name and laughed about my mothering skills every time they hung up the phone.
My most memorable 'incidents' committed by Jacob include: Black permanent marker ALL over my freshly painted walls and window treatments, and of course his humongous teddy bear that was bigger than him; the time he flushed my hard contacts down the toilet when I had the stomach flu. That was a great one. I can't see 2 feet in front of me without them let alone drive, and had to wait 8 weeks to get my new ones. And two weeks later, he got hold of them... and flushed them... again. But the one that tops them all, is definitely the time I brought home my brand new leather couches. I had them home all of 2 days. I put the kids in front of a movie and hoped in the shower. I was in and out in all of 5 minutes, when my trusty little spy Bailey came running in hollering "MOM! JACOB IS DOING SOMETHING!!! I of course came running out to see if my couches were unscathed... they weren't so much. He had climbed up to the top shelf of my pantry and gotten out the Dawn Power Dissolver that cuts tough grease on pots and pans. It works AWESOME on pots and pants. It DESTROYS leather sofas. He was turning around in circles spraying this stuff. It also took the finish off the front of my television and armour. I speechlessly escorted him to his room where he stayed for the next hour while I tried uselessly to fix what was damaged beyond repair.
Yeah, he drove me up a freakin wall. Like until he turned 5. Then all of a sudden... he became about 95% more pleasant to be around. He is still your typical little boy; gets wild and silly lots of the time, but is able to be a lot more obedient, and I can actually reason with him now. We get along a lot better these days.
Carter has now occupied the role of holy terror for the past 18 months or so. He will be three years old next month. He is exactly as busy as Jacob was. I can't believe how much damage that kid can do to a perfectly clean house in minutes. He is my little wild man. I love him so much; but he drives me up a freakin wall, every day without fail.
He was the best baby too. Seriously. Went to bed like a champ every night... until I had to put him in an actual bed. Then the torture began. The only bargaining chip I had was to take away his pacifier.
Jacob was my angel baby. He was the easiest baby ever. Slept through the night at two weeks old, hung around in his swing, vibrating seat and bouncy saucer all day, loved to laugh and smile at us, and never fought me once at nap time or bedtime. It was a refreshing help to me, because I had bedtime battles with Bailey up until she was almost 4 years old. Bedtime was a torturous time in my life for years. It hasn't helped that Chris has always had a job incompatible with him being home during dinner and bedtime 99% of the time. I even resorted to watching super-nanny for tips. And her 'back to bed' routine actually worked... like after 2 years of trying it nightly...
Although Jacob was a bedtime champ, about 18 months - to 2 years old rolled around and he became this holy force to be reckoned with. I would fight with him daily. That kid sat in time-out more times in a single day than I could count. He got into anything and everything faster than I could stop him. I even had those safety locks on all my cupboards and doors, and he still figured out how to get what he wanted. I had to have called poison control about 150 million times. I swear they knew me by name and laughed about my mothering skills every time they hung up the phone.
My most memorable 'incidents' committed by Jacob include: Black permanent marker ALL over my freshly painted walls and window treatments, and of course his humongous teddy bear that was bigger than him; the time he flushed my hard contacts down the toilet when I had the stomach flu. That was a great one. I can't see 2 feet in front of me without them let alone drive, and had to wait 8 weeks to get my new ones. And two weeks later, he got hold of them... and flushed them... again. But the one that tops them all, is definitely the time I brought home my brand new leather couches. I had them home all of 2 days. I put the kids in front of a movie and hoped in the shower. I was in and out in all of 5 minutes, when my trusty little spy Bailey came running in hollering "MOM! JACOB IS DOING SOMETHING!!! I of course came running out to see if my couches were unscathed... they weren't so much. He had climbed up to the top shelf of my pantry and gotten out the Dawn Power Dissolver that cuts tough grease on pots and pans. It works AWESOME on pots and pants. It DESTROYS leather sofas. He was turning around in circles spraying this stuff. It also took the finish off the front of my television and armour. I speechlessly escorted him to his room where he stayed for the next hour while I tried uselessly to fix what was damaged beyond repair.
Yeah, he drove me up a freakin wall. Like until he turned 5. Then all of a sudden... he became about 95% more pleasant to be around. He is still your typical little boy; gets wild and silly lots of the time, but is able to be a lot more obedient, and I can actually reason with him now. We get along a lot better these days.
Carter has now occupied the role of holy terror for the past 18 months or so. He will be three years old next month. He is exactly as busy as Jacob was. I can't believe how much damage that kid can do to a perfectly clean house in minutes. He is my little wild man. I love him so much; but he drives me up a freakin wall, every day without fail.
He was the best baby too. Seriously. Went to bed like a champ every night... until I had to put him in an actual bed. Then the torture began. The only bargaining chip I had was to take away his pacifier.
Did some of you actually gasp? Okay, before you get all Judgy-mcjudgypants on me, let me set the record straight. I NEED that dang pacifier for my sanity! I am pretty much a single parent these days. I need some solace at night after my children go to bed! Some days it is all I have to look forward to! So what did I do? I would threaten to take it away like the first 50 times he got out of bed, then of course actually take it away, to which he would then throw a monster fit for the next 20 or 30 minutes following the confiscation; to which I would argue and fight with my 2 year old just like I was a two year old and stubbornly refuse to give it back because after all, I had told him what I was gonna do if he got out of bed even ONE MORE TIME... and GOOD mothers follow through with promised punishments for the good of their children, right? Then I would of course cave and give it back just to make the torturous tantrum stop, to which 85-90% of the time he would actually then go to bed. Whew. I am such an effective disciplinarian, believe me, I know.
Well, then I started feeling guilty about 2 months before the baby came that my almost three year old still had a pacifier. So one night when Chris had just gone back out of town for work I decided to have the "Pacifier Fairy" come and take his pacifiers to a better place where new babies needed them, and not big boys. (Another Super-nanny favorite.) Carter gathered up his most beloved pass's as he calls them and put them all in a bag on the front porch, and then balled his guts out heartwrenchingly, as I listened torturously for 3 painstaking hours; he got a present the next morning in place of his most prized possessions. I made it through about 10 days where he of course would beg and plead at nap time and bedtime for hours. Gut-wrenching, whining, pleading, tantrum throwing, hollering, mourning the loss of "MY PAaaaaaSS mom, MY PAAAAAASSSS!"
To be continued.......
Friday, May 1, 2009
It's a good thing he's so dang cute. By the way, he is of course saying 'cheese.'Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Adam Walsh Child Protection and Safety Act
If you haven't had a chance to support this, I really hope you do. It only takes a few minutes of your time. I feel really strongly about putting money behind law enforcement to track, find, and hopefully give justice to innocent children out there - victims of horrific sexual abuse. Many of you supported the child protection safety act just passed a few months ago, this is another bill that desperately needs support. We have a responsibility to speak up. You can go to Oprah.com for further details on the subject.
It is very simple - copy their sample letter (or write your own), then click on their link senate.gov and go to your state. Then paste their sample letter into an email to your senator. Easy peasy. (That one goes out for my mom).
Adam Walsh Child Protection and Safety Act - Oprah.com
It is very simple - copy their sample letter (or write your own), then click on their link senate.gov and go to your state. Then paste their sample letter into an email to your senator. Easy peasy. (That one goes out for my mom).
Adam Walsh Child Protection and Safety Act - Oprah.com
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Baby Fat
I love my babies, but lets be honest here.
I hate losing 'baby weight.'
Brayden is 10 weeks old now. I don't know how that happened, because I haven't yet come out of the fog. Let's face it, I am tired, sluggish in my softish type body, and although Brayden is a champ at sleeping most nights, I have three OLDER children that like to come and pay me a visit regularly during the a.m. hours of the day. They like to take advantage of the empty space next to me in my king size bed that should be occupied by one 'daddy' who shall remain nameless. 2 days ago I woke up with all four children lined up next to me, and decided I had 'had enough of the insanity!'
So in typical "Jenny" fashion, I set out to get some order and control back on the Cook family home front. I have been a little bit in denial about my life the past year. I thought that surely misery of the sorts we had been enduring couldn't possibly be permanent. I have fought tooth and nail to try and change things. I am now starting to bitterly realize that things are not going to change in the near future, and 'this is as good as it is gonna get...' so .... I guess I have to deal.... sometimes tearfully deal...anyways back to what I was saying; In typical 'me' fashion, I got myself all pumped up to get it all back under control and make my own 'happy place' and set some goals for the next two months. I was really quite impressed with myself. I even set realistic goals. I then went further and wrote detailed information on how I was going to accomplish said goals. And yesterday, I was so impressed with myself on how well I followed my rules and expectations for myself on reaching my stated goals.... Then today rolled around. It wasn't so great... And once the afternoon rolled around the cookie dough in my freezer was beckoning and I gave in to one cookie dough ball.... Then another.... and as the day got worse I said to myself 'to hell with it!' and baked a whole dang dozen... and you can guess it... ate the whole dang thing myself. What can I say? I crashed and burned today. One more day of being stuck in this baby body that I am not so happy to be in. There is always tomorrow, right?!
And by the way, why didn't anyone tell me that having 4 kids would be like this?! What the crap?! Why do you all make it look so easy? Are you all just a bunch of liars putting on a show? Or am I really just a little weak and pathetic? I think I have figured out that the timing on them getting to our family is just a little painful! Between the nursing child, the wild two year old that cannot be tamed, the kindergartner that gets off the bus at lunchtime, the first grader that gets off the bus mid-afternoon, I am painfully counting down the days until I will have 2 kids in school all day, making it possible to get to any type of store for any amount of time over 15 minutes without having to rush back home again! And oh, the thought of getting through an actual workout without a crying baby or 'wild child' constantly finding trouble I have to get him out of makes me giddy at the thought. I am trapped, I tell you! Trapped! What I wouldn't give for a partner in crime home in the evenings so I could ESCAPE the madness once in a while!
Alright, enough complaining. I really do love em all, I just didn't know it would be so hard. Cuz it is, it is HARD for me, really it is really hard for me. Did I say it was hard? Cuz it is. I'm not holding back. Did ya notice?!
I hate losing 'baby weight.'
Brayden is 10 weeks old now. I don't know how that happened, because I haven't yet come out of the fog. Let's face it, I am tired, sluggish in my softish type body, and although Brayden is a champ at sleeping most nights, I have three OLDER children that like to come and pay me a visit regularly during the a.m. hours of the day. They like to take advantage of the empty space next to me in my king size bed that should be occupied by one 'daddy' who shall remain nameless. 2 days ago I woke up with all four children lined up next to me, and decided I had 'had enough of the insanity!'
So in typical "Jenny" fashion, I set out to get some order and control back on the Cook family home front. I have been a little bit in denial about my life the past year. I thought that surely misery of the sorts we had been enduring couldn't possibly be permanent. I have fought tooth and nail to try and change things. I am now starting to bitterly realize that things are not going to change in the near future, and 'this is as good as it is gonna get...' so .... I guess I have to deal.... sometimes tearfully deal...anyways back to what I was saying; In typical 'me' fashion, I got myself all pumped up to get it all back under control and make my own 'happy place' and set some goals for the next two months. I was really quite impressed with myself. I even set realistic goals. I then went further and wrote detailed information on how I was going to accomplish said goals. And yesterday, I was so impressed with myself on how well I followed my rules and expectations for myself on reaching my stated goals.... Then today rolled around. It wasn't so great... And once the afternoon rolled around the cookie dough in my freezer was beckoning and I gave in to one cookie dough ball.... Then another.... and as the day got worse I said to myself 'to hell with it!' and baked a whole dang dozen... and you can guess it... ate the whole dang thing myself. What can I say? I crashed and burned today. One more day of being stuck in this baby body that I am not so happy to be in. There is always tomorrow, right?!
And by the way, why didn't anyone tell me that having 4 kids would be like this?! What the crap?! Why do you all make it look so easy? Are you all just a bunch of liars putting on a show? Or am I really just a little weak and pathetic? I think I have figured out that the timing on them getting to our family is just a little painful! Between the nursing child, the wild two year old that cannot be tamed, the kindergartner that gets off the bus at lunchtime, the first grader that gets off the bus mid-afternoon, I am painfully counting down the days until I will have 2 kids in school all day, making it possible to get to any type of store for any amount of time over 15 minutes without having to rush back home again! And oh, the thought of getting through an actual workout without a crying baby or 'wild child' constantly finding trouble I have to get him out of makes me giddy at the thought. I am trapped, I tell you! Trapped! What I wouldn't give for a partner in crime home in the evenings so I could ESCAPE the madness once in a while!
Alright, enough complaining. I really do love em all, I just didn't know it would be so hard. Cuz it is, it is HARD for me, really it is really hard for me. Did I say it was hard? Cuz it is. I'm not holding back. Did ya notice?!
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