Goal: Torture Mommy. Achieved.

Place:  McGhee house

Parties:  Dani, Tori and Tommy

Mission: Torture Mommy.

Result:  Success

Wow, it was a rough night.  Wes left a cold beer in the fridge.  It's like he knew it would be.

 

Most Mondays, I am home by 4:30 so Wes can get some sleep.  He works the overnight, and I do my best to get home so he can be sleeping by 5pm.  Tonight was no different, except, I was on time! (Too often my 4:30pm goal is more like 4:45 or even 5pm).  I was walking in the door by 4:30.  Wes and the kids were upstairs, as Tori was getting up from her nap.  "How perfect," I thought, as I walked upstairs, planning to change out of my work clothes and let Wes just stay upstairs to go to sleep.

 

I change and bring the kids downstairs.  Wes mentioned that Tommy may be getting hungry, so I head to the kitchen to figure out what to feed him.  I pull out items to make for dinner.  A minute later, I pop out of the kitchen to see what the kids are doing.  Tommy apparently swiped a bottle of nonpareils from the lazy susan when I was looking in the fridge--and he has emptied it all over the little tykes table and the foyer floor.  (Did I mention our house was cleaned today?)  His bib, and hands are covered with dots. I groan and walk back to the kitchen to get the hand broom and dust pan.  Hearing my dismay, Dani and Tori notice and run to the table, and start to try to lick the tasty candy dots.  Dani gags on a mouthful of dots and proceeds to take three steps and puke on the floor.  Now, I've got a pile of puke and 400,000 tiny candy balls on the floor.  I race to the kitchen to get paper towels, yelling to Tommy to stay still, so he doesn't walk through the puke.  I come back with paper towels and bend over to clean up the mess.  Tommy, seeing an opportunity, sneaks into the bathroom to splash in the toilet.  Puke cleaned, I look around and hear him.  Scoop him up, scold him, and scrub his hands.  Realize Wes said he was hungry.  Give him a large squeezable toddler pouch.  Re-evaluate the situation.  Decide the nonpariels on the floor need to be vacuumed, so grab the vacuum from the mudroom and plug it in.  Turn it on and hear Tommy wail in terror (despite the fact that the house was vacuumed today--perhaps it was his shock from seeing Mommy vacuum).  Decide he can cry all he wants, as the candy balls need to be removed.  Tommy sprints into the foyer and dining room screaming bloody murder, while squeezing his pouch and spraying the walls with blueberry-carrot goo.  Wes comes back downstairs (sorry honey) to see why, after only 15 minutes alone with the kids, there is so much commotion.  Sometimes I think he enjoys my parenting fails.  He helps by picking up Tommy and pointing out spots of goo that I missed while attempting to clean.  All is quiet for a few minutes, he heads back upstairs to sleep.

 

Now, everyone is hungry.  Tommy finishes his fruit squeezer, and Tori has one and finishes it.  Dani asks for one and I bring it into the playroom.  Tommy decides he wants that one too, and when Dani won't give it up he makes a fist and swings, connecting solidly with my right eye.  I see stars.  I get teary as I bend over in pain.  Dani starts to cry, because she thinks I am sad.  Tori starts to cry because Dani is crying.  Tommy is still crying because he's pissed that Dani has applesauce.  I flush my eye with saline (but may have a shiner tomorrow) and head to the kitchen to start to cook them dinner.

 

And how was YOUR night?

Dem bones.

Wow, there's a whole lot of learning going on in this house.  We've got these Leap Books, with a Leap Pen that the kids can use to point to words and pictures, and letters, etc.

One of the books has a section on the body, and Dani and Tori love to point to the bones on the skeleton.  And I went on youtube to let them hear the "Dem bones" song, and now it's the theme song of the week.

Tonight at dinner, Tori told me that when she grows up she wants to be a skeleton.

She is also known for saying, "I have a PELVIS!" "I have two patellas!"

Both Dani and Tori are happy to point out where their scapulas are, and are well-versed in metatarsals and metacarpals (and that's more than I know!)

Tonight, while skyping with my parents, Tori told them that she had phalanges.  When grandma and grandpa asked what those were (and I had no flipping clue) she wiggled her fingers to the camera and said "here".  The kid is not quite 3, won't poop on the potty, but knows the skeletal system better than I do.  It's adorable, but in a way where you start to wonder if you are turning your kids into little nerdies who will be teased mercilessly in kindergarten maybe not letting them watch enough Spongebob.

 

 Tommy is turning out to be the best mimic ever.  He repeats everything anyone says. He is really musical--can baby mumble sing the words to songs in perfect pitch.  It's really pretty awesome.  We've got to bank on some kind of artistic or athletic talent with that one--he's eaten more board books than he's read.

Dani asked me tonight if she could stay up all night, because last night she had bad dreams.  She came into my room at 1:30am literally shaking.  I had to turn on lights and she flipped when I left her in the well-lit bathroom to get a fresh underjam for her (ain't noone peeing in mommy's bed).  And then we had a mommy half asleep discussion about whether dinosaurs could hurt us, and I literally was teary and begging promised her there were no dinosaurs in mommy's bed and she went to sleep. I told her that she was going to sleep on Daddy's pillow and that always means good dreams. She was so resistent to sleep tonight--but in the eldest child, compliant way.  She went upstairs, we brushed and washed, and she pleaded to stay up, knowing full well she would get into bed when I told her to.  Then she begged for Daddy's pillow because it was the good dreams pillow (but Big Man was sleeping as he works tonight!).  Hmmmm, what to do.  I went into my dressing room and got out an old bracelet, a costumey one with stones.  After I turned off the light, I put it on her wrist and told her it was Mommy's good dreams bracelet, and that it would help her to have good dreams tonight...she was in awe.  I whispered, "Don't tell Tori because I only have one.  But if you think happy thoughts tonight and know you have my bracelet, you will be fine."  It seemed to work, but I'm guessing I will have company in the wee hours.

 Tori's making progress on the potty.  She's in pullups, but will always pee on the potty.  She always asks for a magazine when we ask her to try to poop.  She will just sit there, flipping through the pages.

It's the most wonderful chaos.

The crying game.

For some reason, Tommy has decided that he wants to torture mommy test my patience on an hourly basis.  Everything I do is wrong.  I don't play right, or entertain him enough, and so I am faced with Mr. Screamypants.

 

 He will literally make the saddest face, and then wail at the top of his lungs right in front of me.  For kicks, he flings himself on the floor, to highlight his dissatisfaction with me.

Spare any xanax, friends?

 Tori's latest project is making paths of books throughout the house.

 I've mentioned a million times what great eaters these kids are.  Last night, I made a kick-ass grown up dinner of linguine with super-garlicky white sauce with clams, shrimp, artichoke hearts and sun dried tomatoes.  I made extra pasta, fully anticipating the outright rejection of dinner by Dani and Tori.  To my surprise, they chowed down, without reservation!  And, they were super excited to have long noodles, just like big kids!

It was a little messy, but they had a blast.

 And, little Tommy.  Looking all happy and cute--for Daddy of course--he took this pic.  As soon as he sees me he summons up his best toddler angst.

 Help!