I've clawed my way out of the avalanche of life that has buried me. It's still there, but my fingers are free enough to type. And I am certain that you all are breathlessly awaiting updates on my life.

X-Man picks his nose with his tongue. There. I've said it. Before my life was graced by this boy, I was under the impression this was a strictly bovine feat. It's not. Having raised multiple toddlers, I've got it down when it comes to keeping little fingers out of noses. I don't know how to keep a tongue out of a nose. It's not something I've ever really thought about before. I mean, it's one thing to hold hands, but grab his tongue. But that seems less gross than him sticking his tongue up his nose.

Seriously! How's this even an issue in my life? Who ever brainstorms how to keep their kid's tongue out of his nose? There are no Pintrest tips on this.

X-Man has reached a tentative understanding with me. He will wear a shirt and underwear. Or he will wear pants and underwear. He will not wear pants underwear AND a shirt. I've accepted these terms. and the resulting embarrassment has diminished. Our understanding is so great that he will even bring me his underwear after using the potty. Great strides people, great strides.

As much as I would like to be able to say that it is some great filial piety that inspires X-Man to gird his loins.....it's not. He discovered that sliding down the carpeted stairs sans undies is not comfortable. After a few bumps and bellowed "OUCHES!!!!" on each step, he settled for underpants. But no pants. Allowing his style to be only slightly cramped.

And those of us living with X-Man breathed a great sigh of relief.  Especially as his desire to snuggle with everyone has not diminished. And his love of headstands has grown exponentially.

When unattended, X-Man’s hair blossoms, or deteriorates depending on which parent you are talking to, a wild mess of curls. It’s particularly impressive when he wakes up. Add to it a bleary eyed, stumbling chunk of a kid, and it is incredibly cute when he wakes up.  His morning routine has made even the grumpiest of father figures smile. He staggers in to wherever a parent is, smiles widely and turns around. He then backs up, complete with beeping noises, until he reaches his intended target. And then he plops down in your lap. If you take a while to catch on to the routine, he’ll wait, standing in front you….beeping impatiently.

I’ve most likely made a strategic mistake. By the third sports practice of the day, X-Man needed to use the potty. And, of course, there were none to be had. So I took X-Man around the corner and let him have at it. He’s a fan. And decided he should try to go three more times.

It’s time to wean Cinco. At 18 months, she’s nursed longer than any other child of mine.  She likes to use her nursing opportunities not as chances to eat or bond, but rather as a means of driving siblings off of my lap. Also, she’s is just as content to lift my shirt and blow raspberries on my stomach. Followed by uproarious laughter on her part. The beautiful bonding moments that you read about on the interwebz…..yeah, not so much.  She doesn’t seem to care that the ample stomach on which she likes to blow copious amounts of spittle on is the size it is in no small thanks to her. I dread to think how she’s going to treat me in the nursing home.

So that’s my life at the moment. Mac, Baby and Baba are all hard working students. X-Man thinks he’s a truck and Cinco thinks she’s a clown.

Dear fellow toddlers,

If you think completion of potty training is the end of guaranteed personal time with mom, at least four times a day, think again. Just because she is no longer changing your diapers, you can still commandeer her attention. Since she is very desperate for you to be potty trained, she will most certainly play along.

1) Always refuse the underwear. It doesn't matter if it does indeed have Thomas the Tank Engine on it, or even Minions, no dice. NO UNDERWEAR. When she puts you on the potty for your first go around, make sure to put your hands on her face and pull her close to you and say "Peeze Mommy, Pullup no min-mins." She will still make you wear underwear, but will totally make you pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream. This counts as a win.

2) While she is making you smiley face pancakes, go ahead and remove your pants and underwear. Go and hug her legs and ask to see what she is doing. When she picks you up, she'll discover you're not wearing any pants. When she asks "Where are your pants?" Laugh, give your best smile and kiss her. She'll still make you wear clothes, but she'll give you strawberries as a consolation prize.

3) Remove your pants. Again. This time keep your underwear on. She will tell you "good job." Although that's not what she says to Daddy when he walks around in his underwear. Or Mac. Ignore the double standard as it benefits you and continue on. This too constitutes a win.

4) Refuse to use the potty when she takes you after breakfast. Refuse to use the potty before going outside. Cry and scream in need be. Wet your pants two minutes after going outside to play. You now will have mom's undivided attention while she changes your clothes. You'll probably have to sit on the potty again. But it will be worth it. Win.

5) Refuse to use the potty before and after lunch. Keep your pants on. She will consider this a win. Which is a win for you as she will tell you "good job" for doing what is expected from everyone else in the family.

6) Settle down for a movie, within the first five minutes, jump up and run to the bathroom. Yell "Poop in the potty" while doing so. This will get mom to run from wherever she is and assist you, while telling you what a good job you are doing.

7) Sneak out of your room at quiet time. Find where mom is, most likely holding the sleeping usurper, possibly dozing herself. Use the potty, quietly, then find mom. Stand with your nose almost touching hers, to make sure you will have her full attention, despite usurper's best attempts. Yell loudly "Chocolate! Pee in potty! Chocolate!" Usurper will cry, claiming you woke her up, but don't worry. Mom will be so pleased, she'll forgive the whole waking the sleeping baby thing.

8) Don't worry about using the potty again. You'll pee in the tub, which will require mom to draw you a new bath, but she'll blame the warm water. Pull up is on. You'll get extra snuggles though, for all your efforts.

Sincerely,

X-Man

PS for extra fun, try hiding the car keys in the bathroom drawer. While being forced to use the potty, count on usurper to try to throw a phone into the bathtub. Mom will be distracted. While she is removing usurper, press the red button on the keys. That will make the car very loud. And Mom will yell that usurper has the keys. She will be confused. Meanwhile, usurper will return to the bathroom. You get extra points if usurper follows Mom out the door, where she has gone to figure out what's wrong with the car, wearing your underpants on her head. About the time Mom sounds like she might explode, walk out to the car with the keys. Not wearing underpants, because they're still on usurper's head.

You'll totally have to go to quiet time after, but the looks on the olders' faces......worth it.

I will keep things short and sweet as copious amounts of family are still in town. Not to mention, the children all tend to disappear and while I'm sure they're all up to no good, it's no good of which I am unaware, so......I have little to discuss.

This is not to say I haven't learned things over the last few days.

My house holds twelve children remarkably well. I'm a little concerned. I had sold the father figure on the supposed fact that our home is too small for anymore children This argument might have blown out of the water. However, the father figure has taken up more X-Man wrestling in the recent past and that whole gleam in his eye has significantly dimmed.

Salted coffee is not good. In any way. What I haven't learned is how salted coffee came to be. Yes, the reason why my salt supply was decimated was partly due to X-Man climbing on the counter and dumping it all over the stove top. However, I still can't wrap my head around him dumping it in the sugar container. That takes a level of wiliness that I am still not certain that he possesses. Although he does continually surprise me. No other child will cop to it, so the mystery remains.

Muting your phone DOES NOT silence games. At least not if X-Man turns on Angry Birds: Star Wars, during his aunt's wedding. It's a good thing the game blasts the theme at the beginning, otherwise not everyone would have known what he was doing.

If there is a family barbecue to celebrate your brother in law's birthday, X-Man will strip down completely......because.

Cinco is completely my child. Part of her morning routine involves bringing me shoes to put on her. Part of her life routine involves removing her shoes constantly. And growing. So I discovered that she had lost the shoes (yes I'm blaming the baby here) that fit her and the shoes that her sister had put on her were very small. I found myself in Target with all the children, shopping for shoes for Cinco. She started to hyperventilate when we reached the shoe aisle. She laid down in the seat of the cart, with her legs high up in the air, waving her feet. In case I didn't know where to put her shoes, which, considering the missing pair, is a valid point. She was VERY happy. I had to remove the tag to give to the clerk as she would not remove the shoes themselves.

Tomorrow I am taking to children to a park where there is water nearby. I give it five minutes before they have all fallen in. Their knack for divining water and then throwing themselves bodily into it isn't useful in any way. They got it from me.

Things learned over the weekend:

X-Man can empty and crush a box of taco shells in the amount of time it takes me to change a diaper. It would help if Cinco didn’t try to crawl under the couch while I was trying to change it.

I will learn of X-Man’s shenanigans when he brings me his newly y made chips, with peanut butter “yum mommy!”

In the time it takes me to clean up a box of crushed taco shells, Cinco can empty the entire contents of a bathroom drawer into the toilet.

X-Man will try to swim in the toilet. Cinco will try to join him. He will try to help her get in the toilet with him.

X-Man can fall asleep in the shower.

X-Man thinks the baby dolls in the house need to be potty trained. I’m considering asking him to try Cinco as well.

I can keep the bathroom door shut and cut down the family shenanigans by at least 80%. However, I will be stuck with a hysterical X-Man who has been very good with his potty training. And it doesn’t change the fact that Cinco hangs outside the bathroom door, looking for any excuse to get in there and get to work. 

You know when it’s a good time to discover your debit card is missing? When you’re sitting at the gas pump, on empty.  Of course this prompts a rushed trip home to check your account, which is shockingly low on funds, but that is entirely your fault. So you cancel the card. And the next day, you find it in a hoodie you forgot you wore.  The hoodie you were going to wear to the dmv to renew the tabs for the ridiculous paperweight still sitting in your driveway. You were going to wear it but didn’t because the state of Washington did what you could not do, convince the father figure to rid himself of the bane on your existence.  The thought of paying for new license plates and tabs was a bridge too far. Not the thousands of dollars we’ve already thrown into it over the last year, the sixty dollars to make it legal. Whatever, I know when to keep my thoughts to myself.

The father figure said little about me losing yet another debit card. It actually occurs more often than I would like to admit. But since he lost his phone, he’s recognized that come a certain amount of children; you do completely lose your mind. I used to claim that I might lose my debit card but I had never lost a child before. Thanks to Mac, that curve was blown. Although I have yet to leave a child anywhere. That really should account for something. Especially as the number seems to exponentially grow.

X-Man is refusing to nap but using the potty. You think that I’d be happy with this turn of event, but I am loath to lose the quiet time of naps. There’s a lovely peace that comes from knowing right where X-Man is and that he is most certainly doing nothing destructive. Not to mention I don’t think our water bill is going to appreciate X-Man’s new found habit of flushing the potty as often as he can. Which certainly includes stopping every time he passes the bathroom to randomly flush the toilet.  He has also taken to stashing his underwear in random spot throughout the house. This way he can change them as often as the mood strikes him. Which apparently is often.  All and all there’s not much to complain about. But that won’t stop me.

I don't have a lawn. I have a breeding ground for dandelions. So now I have blisters on my hands as I spent a couple hours digging them out. Well some out. Our lovely neighbor took one look and said "Better you than me." I told him I was three seconds away from going all Round Up on the yard. I didn't. Not yet. Now there are all these holes in the dandelion breeding ground. But there's less yellow to distract from the daffodils.

I learned over the weekend that if you are a boy and around the age of three, you will lick things. That's just the way it goes. I was watching the one reality show I like, TLC's The Little Couple, starring two of the most darling children you will ever see. Anyway, the mom and dad were off the finalize their daughter's adoption and said goodbye to their three year old son. Who said goodbye to his father.....by licking his hand. A facebook friend mentioned that her three-ish year old son it into licking people as well. Which made my rule today, "No Licking Mommy" even more cruel in X-Man's eyes. It's just the way of the world mom.

The father figure and I found ourselves collapsed on the couch watching "The Best of SNL '90s." We complained about how it was then that all the good stars were cast. But what kept us watching were the musical acts. There was so much good music in the '90s. Good angry, angst filled music. None of this Beiber nonsense that permeates the airwaves today. Seriously, our children will never know peer produced good music.

And then we started to search for our AARP cards.

Mac just bellowed for me to come upstairs. He said that I needed to bring him a towel and turn off the shower. When I got up there, he was standing, wet and naked, in the bathroom door. There was a towel less than three feet behind him. And the shower was off. I pointed this out to him and he responded "Oh, actually I guess I know how to turn it off."

The difference between the father figure and myself? I caught X-Man as he was removing the eggs from the refrigerator.

And that's about all I learned today. That and wood floors are absurd. You have to sweep them four times a day and then you have to wash them on your hands and knees. I don't care if everything I'm sweeping up would be hidden away in the carpet, the point is, it would be hidden away. And I don't need to wash it three times a week.

I have crumby kids. Crumby crumby kids. Maybe X-Man figured that an egg or two into the mix and he'd get a nice pastry out of it.

It's been the kind of day where Cinco brushes my legs with a hairbrush while I try to work out. As I did push ups, apparently Jillian Michaels ultimate favorite exercise ever, she sat on my back and hit my head with a hammer. Fortunately, I guess, it was a plastic hammer. She did this because she could, and also because her older sisters were watching her. Much like they were watching her when she helped X-Man smash eggs on the floor.

Yesterday was Baba's birthday. It was a lovely day. The kind of day where I get lost in the moment, bask in the joy that truly is my children, and decide to take them to a movie. On my own.

Fortunately, I was so enjoying family, I decided to invite Nana and Dada to come with us. Something told me that I should attempt to even out the numbers a bit. Which was good.

We went to see The Lego Movie. X-Man was very excited because he saw an arcade game with a steering wheel and decided he was in Heaven. He wasn't particularly convinced but was willing to follow the crowd. He spent the previews trying to figure out how to stay seated in his collapsing chair. Although the bouncing was rather fun.

As soon as the previews began, Cinco began to dance. Dancing for Cinco means bouncing and bouncing and trying to vault out of whichever arms are restraining her. She also danced through the first song. And then she got fussy. Her dancing had worn her out. She needed to be walked for all of five minutes before passing out.

As soon as I returned with the completely zonked Cinco, X-Man decided he needed to go to the bathroom. So Cinco was handed off to Nana and X-Man and I made our first out of three trips to the bathroom. But he kept his pull up dry so I couldn't complain. It was pretty clear that he was using his bathroom trips to scope out the lobby and figure out where that car game was. I was wise to his plan and kept detouring him back to the theater.

While I missed parts of the movie, I was there enough to hear deep bellied laughs from all of my kids, including X-Man. It was a good day.

We returned home and baking a birthday cake was on the to do list. Birthday cakes require eggs. I still didn't have eggs. The moment had passed and reality was back.

X-Man helped restore reality by adding his special touches to Baba's cake as I was trying to convince Cinco that she really, really, really needed to take a late afternoon nap. He was pulling a gallon of milk out of the fridge when I became aware of his shenanigans.

It could have been worse. I could have walked into the kitchen and caught him on the kitchen table, on all fours, eating the last of the birthday cake, face first, animal style. Oh wait....that was today.

"Mom! Cinco is trying to pick my nose with a pencil!"

"Mom! Mac is using the plunger in the potty again!"

"MA! Go potties!"

"Mom! X-Man poured chocolate milk mix in the clean clothes!"

"Mom! Cinco climbed up to Mac's bunk!"

"Mom! Cinco can climb on Baba's bed!"

"MA! Go potties!"

"Mom! I lost my tooth! I was throwing it and I think Cinco ate it!"

"Mom! X-Man gave Cinco your coffee!"

"Mom! Cinco is climbing the shelves of the pantry!"

"Mom! Mac poured X-Man some chocolate milk and forgot to put the stopper in the cup!"

"MA! POTTIES!!!"

"Mom! Cinco stole X-Man's chocolate milk and won't give it back!"

"AND SHE SPILLED IT EVERYWHERE!"

"Mom! Why are the car lights flashing and the horn honking?"

"MA! Potties! Ponies!"

"Mom! I think X-Man has the car keys!"

"Mom! Cinco's climbing into the dishwasher!"

"Mom! X-Man's running outside and he's not wearing any pants!"

I observed Cinco in the kitchen today. She opened up the cupboard behind which the garbage was stored and pulled out a napkin. She settled herself down on the floor and started ripping it apart with glee. She discovered last night that napkins rip up quite nicely. I swear she was giggling while she did it. I, of course, had to ruin the moment with a "What are you doing?" and watched her jump and scurry away. She recovered and tried to open the refrigerator while being totes cool.

I'm not sure why I got a kick out it quite like I did. I think it had something to do with Cinco exhibiting child-like behavior. Sure, at nine months, she still all baby, after all, she quick settled for trying to eat the fridge door, but it's fun to catch those moments of transition. Also of naughtiness. But she still makes it look cute.

X-Man, on the other hand, spent the entire day trying to lick my face. Couldn't tell you why. I did actually check to make sure that there was no errant food smeared anywhere. I think he just got up today and decided "Today I will lick mommy's face as I have licked just about everything else in this house." And, being the boy he is, there is no deterring him. Other than nap time. I'm considering donning Mac's Spiderman mask when X-Man awakes.

I don't know what the heck it is with X-Man recently. I was nursing Cinco the other day and knew that X-Man was hovering nearby. I did a double take when I saw him, because he was sitting with Cinco's foot in his mouth, staring at me. Almost like "How long must I sit here like this before she notices?"

He's weird. And awake again. So sitting exposed isn't going to work.

Tomorrow is Mac's birthday. As I am trying to claw my way out of my turkey coma and survive my Black Friday escapades, I will reflect on Mac. Mac really is the origin of this blog. I would share his exploits on the book of faces and he amused the masses. These are a few of the highlight I have gleaned while trying to hold both X-Man and Cinco. They are both aware of each other's existence and are concerned that I may possible bestow just a smidgen more attention on the other. It's a barrel of monkeys, more literally than one might like.

Mac was the boy that I had to instruct to NOT lick the frozen turkey while we were shopping in Costco. It was only the first of many instructions I was always surprised to have to give. 
"Mac, we do not shoot strangers, especially people trying to watch your sister's soccer game!"
 "Well, he's still alive."


Mac also is the only child, so far, to actually moon the father figure. He's the only one who's woken me up to talk to his hair. 

He's taight me that "get dressed so we can get on to school" meant "sit in the middle of your room and sing....naked."

He went a full day only responding to Robot Destroyer.

He is a fascinating conversationalist. Very often late at night. 
"There are monsters in my room, or, I mean, a robot. There's a big robot in room, and I'm scared. I mean, spiderman. Spiderman is in my room, can I sleep with you?"
Me: "I thought Spiderman was your friend, why are you scared?"
Mac: "Spiderman is in my bed, so I need to sleep with you."

Me, to the loud children, "Unless someone is bleeding or dying, do not interrupt me when I am on the phone." Mac: "Bleeding? Dying? Where?"

"Mom, wanna hear something gross?"  He was offended when I said "not really,"

"Mommy, is there such a thing as burglars?" 
"Yes" 
"I mean in this world, are there burglars?" 
"Yes honey, in this world there are people who come take your stuff without asking." 
"So, is Baby a burglar?"

When speaking to his Grandfather "Do you have any chips?"
"No"
"Do you have any banannas?"
"No"
"Were you robbed?"

Restless night with Mac. He woke me up, wanting to be reassured that there were no such things as vampires and zombies. And the letter "v". And then he couldn't accept that there weren't vampires because they start with "v" and "v" is for real. It became a very complicated conversation.

Baby "when I grow up I'm going to have a baby, be a bride and be a doctor."
Baba "I'm going to be a teacher." 
Mac "I'm going to be a Transformer and my name will be Bonkhead." We'll focus on Baby's life order in the future. 

"Mac can you give mommy a kiss?"

 "Nah, but I can pinch your nose."

"You don't show me you love me with kisses, you give me piggy back rides."

Conversation at 11:15pm....."I wish there were bugs in my room. There aren't any. Not yet." I have made peace with the fact that I am a destroyer of boyhood dreams.

"Mommy, I peed in your bed, so I'm going to go sleep in mine." 

"I'm going to punch you!"
"EXCUSE ME young man, you do not punch your mother." 
"I mean, I'm going to hand you this bowl. Here you go."

"mommy look at the snake I made" 
"Oh, cute" 
"Not cute....SCARY!"

"did you take a rocketship to the moon?.....did you fly in a helicopter that crashed?.... did you fly to outerspace without a rocket?......did you go in the ocean and a robot shark eat you?....well then, where are you?" (Mac's actual phone conversation with his dad, who was away on a business trip)

He is the only child of mine to take off running ahead of me in Target shooting "pew pew" and announcing "I'm making a path for you Mommy!"

After a couple of years of posting Mac stories on facebook, I noticed that the automatic ad generator started to o

ffer me cheap phone calls from prison. So I moved my story telling to this blog. 


A couple of years ago I engaged in the following conversation with Mac.
"Is it my birthday today?" 
"Yes"
"Yay, should I open my presents now?"
"No Mac, we don't open presents at 2:30 in the morning."
"Ok, I'll just wait five minutes."

It's been an adventure. A joyful, crazy, exhausting adventure. With my boy. 

I was motivated to begin this blog partly based upon reaction to my facebook status updates. They mostly involved Mac's antics as a toddler and people were highly amused by them. At least someone was laughing.

So, I started a blog. And I kept my facebook account, although I admit that I don't update my status quite as often. In fact, I often hold things back for this blog. But, there's enough there that a "bot" was able to create a mash up of various statuses of mine. Everyone was doing it, best reason ever, so I decided to let it access my old posting and see what it came up with. For kicks.

This is what it produced.

"I am not allowed to volunteer too. Sticking with the team called The floor did not need to liberate and not allowed to volunteer too. Sticking with my math book. Baby's response just love karma." 

Yep. Somehow my sister ended up with "Go Irish Beat USC" and I ended up the with that. I guess I post drunk on facebook way more often than I thought. But it does help clarify at least why my children seem to ignore me so much. They can't figure out what the heck I'm talking about. I know see what they typically look at me as if I had three heads. And not one of them attractive.

Apparently I stick with teams and math book. And I have issues with volunteering. I also recognize why I have over 20,000 page views on this blog. They're not coming to laugh WITH me.

Also, X-Man just ran up to me and gave me a hug and a kiss. Which means he peed somewhere that is not a potty.

It's never a good sign if you hear odd crashing noises in the ceiling. Ones similar to what you think squirrels or a large rodent would make. It's especially not good if you hear those noises in the office, which is directly under X-Man's room. And he's supposed to be napping.

The boy had pried the grate off the heater vent and chirped "Ball go bye mom!" when I investigated further. He might have a new favorite toy.

I was having a serious discussion with Mac the other night. He admitted that he had seen a movie that gave him nightmares. I panicked, thinking of some of the shows that I had let him see, some that might have been too much for him. He liked Iron Man, didn't see Transformers 2, of course that would have given anyone nightmares. I asked him which movie bothered him. He looked down and said "Well it scares me to say, but it was Phinneas and Ferb." Well then. I'm not sure I wasn't taken for the let's postpone sleep ride.

The girls were making up jokes and sharing them during dinner. We have finally progressed past the point of "knock knock" "who's there?" "snow" "snow who" "chicken." Yeah, those alleged jokes really bothered the father figure. He kept trying to tell them "It has to be funny for a reason!" Mac finally decided that he wanted in on the humor action. "Mom I have a joke." "Oh really, what is it?" "Well, I don't really want to talk about it." He was working the irony angle apparently.

Or something.

I will continue to be held hostage until Tuesday, when my van gets a new computer. So I will have a running car and a window instead of plywood in my living room. If I'm not careful, I'm going to start putting on airs.

The lady at the checkout, who I was forced to see because someone decided to paint the bathroom sink with toothpaste, commented on the fact that I had two girls and two boys. She could count just fine, Baby was at soccer practice while I was running errands. "You are so lucky" she said. "More than you know" was my response. I figured that covered Baby's existence while not actually having to get into the math of the whole thing. She continued "There was a lady at church who had seven boys before she got her girl." Apparently the whole not having to try for a girl is what made me lucky. Whoo hoo for me then.

People have such different attitudes towards boys and girls. It's assumed that moms want....no need...girls. Don't get me wrong, I couldn't survive with my two oldest daughters, but I was thoroughly excited to find out that Mac was coming. I find it odd that mothers with sons engender so much pity. Boys indeed are insane, but that in and of itself doesn't require sympathy.

I think all of us approach sons differently than daughters. Even if we don't intend to. I recognized myself doing just that during Mac's soccer practice. There was a little boy that had it out for Mac. He was determined to steal Mac's ball during keep away and would loudly announce his intentions. Mac held his own just fine and so I enjoyed the skeptical. I also didn't mind that there was another boy who is fiercely competitive. When Mac beat him in a race, the boy responded by tackling him. Mac jumped back up and crowed "I won!" I was pleased to see Mac rise to the occasion and to hold his own. And I was surprised by my reaction. Had it been a teammate of Baby or Baba's I would have been seething. But here I was, silently rooting my son on, wanting his fellow teammates to challenge him more and push him harder. He seemed to thrive on the challenge.

I am excited for this upcoming soccer season for Mac. I've seen him become more focused on the physical aspects of the game. He hasn't thrown leaves on his fellow teammates heads, thus distracting them and stealing the ball. He's simply relying on his skills. It's a far cry from the little guy who got into a wrestling match with an opponent at the start of last season. During the game. In the middle of the field. Never saw that at any of my daughters' numerous games. The teenage boy who was reffing the game simply jumped over them as if it was a routine occurrence in boys U-5 soccer.

I like the challenges that boys present. Mostly. But I need to be pulled back from over hovering, as the father figure says. And I can see how it helps my little guys to get pushed by their peers. Although, I'd prefer a less literal approach.

Thank the good Lord for cheaply made Chinese furniture that is little more than decorated particle board. Because when X-Man climbs after cups of water on the top of a dresser and pulls it over on himself, he escapes unscathed and refreshed blithely drinking his water while surveying the chaos he created. I cried, he demanded more refreshments and life carried on.

Mark me down for another motherhood fail. I let, or rather even encourage my children to play hide and seek.  My favorite quote is probably “When it comes to hide and seek, what you choose to do it up to you. What’s important is that you’ve come to your decision from an educated and informed place.” Because we’re talking about a game or the proper course of medical treatment, it’s hard to remember. I thought it was all part of the joy of childhood, but it’s actually about training your children to be killer ninjas who lie to you. So clearly, I am responsible for X-Man’s near miss today. Not because I was busy feeding Cinco in another room but because I did not step in when his siblings played hide and seek.  I clearly did not find the appropriate middle ground for my children.  He was just trying to play hide and seek with my water glass. I had hidden it from him and he sought it out.

I’m really glad that the interwebz exists to tell me the dangers that exist all around me. And my children

So Baby Royal left the hospital today. He was erroneously strapped into his car seat. Moms actually notice these things. Even me. Mostly because I had to unswaddle a very content Cinco numerous times in order to properly buckle her up. So yeah, YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG!!!!

Mac wandered into his grandmother’s walk in closet today and bellowed “Well here’s where grandma keeps all the stuff she stole!” Now his paternal grandparents (God love them) run a tad bit on the hoarder side of things, so I’m not sure if his observations were based upon how full the closet was or on some other aspect of his grandmother’s life that I am unaware of.

My nose still hurts where X-Man head butted me. He did so because I told him that he was not allowed to play in drinking fountains. It’s not that I started out with him in a sleeper hold, while trying to keep him in timeout, but somehow his contortions resulted in just that. A mother holding a toddler in a sleeper hold. In public. Well played young man.

 Oh well, I could be THIS MOM. 

Here are some things that I learned over the weekend:

If Baby and Mac are left alone in a bedroom screaming will commence. It’s not so much that I learned this. But I did learn that one, out of many, things they will fight about involves who will get out of the car first. Keep in mind neither one was in the car at the time. They were, judging by the progress they were making in their chores, hours away from actually getting in the car. However, proximity to the car is not necessary to the hashing out of the proper order of de-caring. Also, apparently I am the only person who finds this behavior absurd.  But there is nothing like a mother trying to point out absurdity of behavior to establish a united front with previous feuding siblings.

If you pick out clothes as a birthday gift for a young girl, make sure to listen to your daughter’s advice, not the mother of the child. This will guarantee that your daughter does not create a birthday card with a PS My mom picked out your gift. Also, I recommend proofreading any and all cards created by your children, to guarantee they contain no bizarre comments, such as “I hope your birthday cake isn’t poison.” Unless you’re the kind of person who enjoys hearing sentiments such as that read aloud in a sea of sweet messages spelled out in pink and glitter.

If you are informing your son that he is not to shout orders to his father, because he is not to tell his father what to do, he will come back with “I’ll tell him what to do if I’m king.” Fair enough.

The only reason why X-Man enjoys pointing out the various facial features is because it gives him an opportunity to stick a finger up my nose. And it is entirely unreasonable for me to forbid him to then stick the finger in my mouth. No matter how much he wants to touch my “teee”. It’s been a struggle to write this blog because he’s obsessed with sticking his finger up Cinco’s nose. Her nostrils are smaller than his finger tip, so there’s plenty of frustration to go around.

Forget the Ice Cream Truck, there’s an Ice Cream Boat. Yup, enjoying a peaceful day at the lake be prepared to be serenaded by muzak versions of Christmas carols piped from a motor boat. Because the only thing more dangerous than your children charging into the street chasing a sketchy truck selling overpriced confections is having them charge into water, in pursuit of frozen delights.

because phoning it in is too hard.

This. Today. And yesterday. And tomorrow.

Yep, because when you try to explain why you hit your brother and he pinched you or vice versa with a pigeon on top. Yeah.

I said that I had no idea what they were talking about or why they were fighting so I was going to go get them a bunny with a flapjack. That made Baby shriek in frustration and Mac say "cool." I didn't really, because I wasn't certain that X-Man wouldn't eat both.

So now when children come screaming to me, trying to out yell each other in order to best air their grievences I simply respond "You look like you need a bunny with a pancake on its head." It still just frustrates Baba, because she's not so much the random humor type of person, it cracks Mac up and Baby just shrieks louder "NO YOU NEED TO YELL AT MAC!" She does not handle it well if you retort "oh, so you need two pancakes on its head."

I blame my father. This is totally a chapter out of his parenting manual. Not so long ago, as Baby was wailing because she had to get Mac a glass of water,  I over heard my father ask her "If this is how you react when you have to give your brother a drink, what are you going to do when the house blows up?"

Food for thought.

what's with the title demands blogger?

I was engaged in a passionate discussion with my sister today on the phone. We had strongly held, opposing, viewpoints based upon limited personal experiences. Always a recipe for success. About halfway through I realized she thought I was another sister. Just another day in the life.

I took five children to the river today. I left with five children. It was a successful day.  Because it was successful, I really don’t have much to talk about. I guess that’s the price you pay for having well behaved children.

The day had a rough start. Baby and Baba were back at their speed and agility camp. Apparently  today was “abs day”. This outraged Baby greatly. She left the camp in a huff, since they were “supposed to be running not exercising.”  Meanwhile Mac told me that he “likes God but mostly only on Sundays.”

X-Man has decided that in order to take his nasal medication he needs an audience. And that audience should engage in extended applause, both as a run up to the medication delivery and after the completion.  Hey, whatever gets the medicine in and stops the runny noses.

I have more thoughts, but X-Man has been spinning and dancing, complete with head banging, both figuratively and literally. He’s crashed into the coffee table twice now. I’d like to avoid the ER tonight, so it’s time to pay attention.