Waaaiiittt.....Where'd Your Pants Go?
And that right there should say everything about my last couple of weeks. My daughter (and oh is she definitely mine) has decided to check out the devious, sassy, hellion, ingeniously creatively destructive side of her brain. All while teething. I think she just might kill me. If I survive this I swear I will never look at a two year old the same again. Allow me to fill you in on her glorious new antics and my heart attacks.
The other day (you will likely read this saying a lot in this post) she decided that crayons are for coloring everything with. Including but not limited to mommy's notepads (all of them), her coloring pages, her doll boxes, toys, still packed boxes, and nearly got to mommy's computer. I likely have yet to discover the other things she managed to get a hold of. Yes, because let's color everything. A few days before that she had discovered a pencil and drawn on the walls...in the main hallway. She somehow found a pen of mine and left it open on my bed...which then leaked on the blanket I've had (and yes still sleep with as it's very comfy thank you very much) for 20 some years. There's now another black spot on it to add to the few other stains, mostly ink ones. Oh yeah, I was thrilled on that one.
A few days ago, she started teething. And when I say teething I mean full on snotty nose, crying in sleep, whiny, tired, not eating, and very, very, cranky teething. I'm not entirely sure how we managed to survive the first night. Tylenol was our saving grace. I can deal with a lot of things, but holy crap, all at once. Really? And let's not even talk about the fact that Clay decided to follow in big sissy's steps to teeth at the same time. Minus the runny nose at first. Oh boy do we have it now! Meanwhile the night of our first teething with Sam, I was awoken at 2:45 am to a sore throat, and never got to go back to sleep. Josh had an interview that following morning at 9:00 am for a new job. What he didn't tell me is the rest of the application with more information needed to be filled out before the interview. Mind you it's 8:00 am. Fantastic. Awesome. Just what I needed. Josh then left and I finished the application in the nick of time, and just as the kids decided to both start screaming. By this point I've got a sore throat, a stuffy nose, and a sinus headache not to mention I'm exhausted and running on three hours of sleep. Broken sleep. At this point I'm thinking it can't get any worse. I really should know better than to ever think that because it can always get worse. I have Sam on one side, Clay on the other, all the above symptoms, both teething, both hungry, both angry at the world in general, and no idea when Josh is getting home. Peachy. Thankfully when he did get home he let me sleep pretty much the rest of the day. So drugged up on Sudafed, and Benadryl (I do not recommend that mix, even though I took them a couple hours apart, I was so out of it) I passed out not to return to the world for quite some time. Poor Josh.
Yesterday, or perhaps the day before, our sweet (and by that I mean sarcastically) daughter discovered her knack for gymnastics and for being quick at it. Apparently stretching between the high countertop above the kitchen sink, and the top of the rocking chair in the corner so she can turn on the water and/or get whatever happens to be on said countertop (that I put stuff on assuming she couldn't reach it) was a blast. Can anyone say heart attack mom? And of course by the time I discover the little rascal up there, she's tumbling her way down the wall and onto the carpet below. Thankfully it's not a far drop and it's cushioned with carpet, not hard wood like Hidden Forest. Still, after a stern talking to and a kiss on the head to make it all better, I hoped that she would realize that falling from the counter wasn't fun and would cease and desist. Yeah, no mom, where's the fun in that? We had moved all the chairs away from the counter so she couldn't get up there. Or so we thought. Turns out our daughter is apparently not only a gymnast, but stretchy as a rubber band. The chair we had so cleverly thought was to heavy for her to move, and assumed was plenty far away from the counter wasn't actually as far as we thought. She somehow managed to tip toe on the chair and dangle by her finger tips on the counter. We caught her before she tumbled that time. Though barely. I swear that girl can scamper up the chair in a half second and knows exactly when we aren't looking. Today was the worst though. We had run upstairs to do some chores and taken her up with us. We assumed she was in her room playing with toys and as the water was running we didn't hear her sneak downstairs. I know she was not gone for more than a few moments because we had just checked on her when we suddenly heard crying from downstairs. Josh ran down to discover her dangling over the countertop, with her upper body on the counter and her feet two feet in the air hanging on for dear life. We found that she had moved everything off one of the lighter chairs and shoved it across the living room just close enough to the counter that she could get up on it, but couldn't get back down again. Thus the hanging on for her dear little life. Josh grabbed her and promptly brought her back upstairs where she refused to leave our sides for the rest of the day. I didn't say she couldn't learn, I just said she didn't care.
The other day, and I mean one of the other, other days, I was finishing up making lunch when I heard Josh from the living say "wait, where'd your pants go?" Thus the title. Mind you she had been wearing pants since the night before as she was still in her jimjams. To be fair we all were, but that's beside the point. I had been doing crazy amounts of laundry getting ready for Lizard and White Knight, who are here for the weekend, and apparently she decided to "help out" by putting her dirty pants in the clean laundry pile. Well, at least she's trying I suppose. Much like she's trying by scattering her toys all over the floor, and her clothes, and everyone else's, everywhere as well. But hey, she does help pick up if you ask her to. Well, usually.
Today we went out to dinner with Lizard, her sister, and White Knight at a local Thai place that we all love. Sam decided it was a great game to dump the crayons on the table, and floor, and have White Knight pick them up for her. Thankfully he was willing to play with her and even draw with her when she did feel like coloring on the actual coloring page. Granted towards the end when I told her enough and she needed to behave, it didn't go over so well. Suffice to say she wound up in time out in the car seat with mommy leaning against the car trying not to lose her mind. However, she was a very good girl and went right to bed with no fussing when we got home. And she hasn't once tried to keep getting up out of her new toddler bed. I think she actually likes it way more than she ever liked the crib. Which is a good thing since Clay loves that crib.
Speaking of toddler beds, we had the wonderful adventure of putting together one of those this week. That being said, here's my version of instructions on how to build a toddler bed. Use as needed.
1. Make rum and coke
2. Take big drink of rum and coke
3. Pull all the pieces of the toddler bed out of the box and place on the floor
4. Find the instructions and throw them across the room. You shouldn't need them right?
5. Begin building, and realize you've built the entire bottom piece upside down and slightly backwards.
6. Go find the instructions, glance over them, and throw them away.
7. Build top half.
8. Realize you did it wrong again, take a drink of rum and coke while dumpster diving for the instructions somewhere under all the packaging in the trash.
9. Attempt to read instructions again.
10. Rebuild the top half and try to attach to the bottom half.
11. Give up, finish drink and try again tomorrow.
Well everyone, Lizard and White Knight have finally arrived and so I shall sign off for the night. Good night and sleep tight.
The other day (you will likely read this saying a lot in this post) she decided that crayons are for coloring everything with. Including but not limited to mommy's notepads (all of them), her coloring pages, her doll boxes, toys, still packed boxes, and nearly got to mommy's computer. I likely have yet to discover the other things she managed to get a hold of. Yes, because let's color everything. A few days before that she had discovered a pencil and drawn on the walls...in the main hallway. She somehow found a pen of mine and left it open on my bed...which then leaked on the blanket I've had (and yes still sleep with as it's very comfy thank you very much) for 20 some years. There's now another black spot on it to add to the few other stains, mostly ink ones. Oh yeah, I was thrilled on that one.
A few days ago, she started teething. And when I say teething I mean full on snotty nose, crying in sleep, whiny, tired, not eating, and very, very, cranky teething. I'm not entirely sure how we managed to survive the first night. Tylenol was our saving grace. I can deal with a lot of things, but holy crap, all at once. Really? And let's not even talk about the fact that Clay decided to follow in big sissy's steps to teeth at the same time. Minus the runny nose at first. Oh boy do we have it now! Meanwhile the night of our first teething with Sam, I was awoken at 2:45 am to a sore throat, and never got to go back to sleep. Josh had an interview that following morning at 9:00 am for a new job. What he didn't tell me is the rest of the application with more information needed to be filled out before the interview. Mind you it's 8:00 am. Fantastic. Awesome. Just what I needed. Josh then left and I finished the application in the nick of time, and just as the kids decided to both start screaming. By this point I've got a sore throat, a stuffy nose, and a sinus headache not to mention I'm exhausted and running on three hours of sleep. Broken sleep. At this point I'm thinking it can't get any worse. I really should know better than to ever think that because it can always get worse. I have Sam on one side, Clay on the other, all the above symptoms, both teething, both hungry, both angry at the world in general, and no idea when Josh is getting home. Peachy. Thankfully when he did get home he let me sleep pretty much the rest of the day. So drugged up on Sudafed, and Benadryl (I do not recommend that mix, even though I took them a couple hours apart, I was so out of it) I passed out not to return to the world for quite some time. Poor Josh.
Yesterday, or perhaps the day before, our sweet (and by that I mean sarcastically) daughter discovered her knack for gymnastics and for being quick at it. Apparently stretching between the high countertop above the kitchen sink, and the top of the rocking chair in the corner so she can turn on the water and/or get whatever happens to be on said countertop (that I put stuff on assuming she couldn't reach it) was a blast. Can anyone say heart attack mom? And of course by the time I discover the little rascal up there, she's tumbling her way down the wall and onto the carpet below. Thankfully it's not a far drop and it's cushioned with carpet, not hard wood like Hidden Forest. Still, after a stern talking to and a kiss on the head to make it all better, I hoped that she would realize that falling from the counter wasn't fun and would cease and desist. Yeah, no mom, where's the fun in that? We had moved all the chairs away from the counter so she couldn't get up there. Or so we thought. Turns out our daughter is apparently not only a gymnast, but stretchy as a rubber band. The chair we had so cleverly thought was to heavy for her to move, and assumed was plenty far away from the counter wasn't actually as far as we thought. She somehow managed to tip toe on the chair and dangle by her finger tips on the counter. We caught her before she tumbled that time. Though barely. I swear that girl can scamper up the chair in a half second and knows exactly when we aren't looking. Today was the worst though. We had run upstairs to do some chores and taken her up with us. We assumed she was in her room playing with toys and as the water was running we didn't hear her sneak downstairs. I know she was not gone for more than a few moments because we had just checked on her when we suddenly heard crying from downstairs. Josh ran down to discover her dangling over the countertop, with her upper body on the counter and her feet two feet in the air hanging on for dear life. We found that she had moved everything off one of the lighter chairs and shoved it across the living room just close enough to the counter that she could get up on it, but couldn't get back down again. Thus the hanging on for her dear little life. Josh grabbed her and promptly brought her back upstairs where she refused to leave our sides for the rest of the day. I didn't say she couldn't learn, I just said she didn't care.
The other day, and I mean one of the other, other days, I was finishing up making lunch when I heard Josh from the living say "wait, where'd your pants go?" Thus the title. Mind you she had been wearing pants since the night before as she was still in her jimjams. To be fair we all were, but that's beside the point. I had been doing crazy amounts of laundry getting ready for Lizard and White Knight, who are here for the weekend, and apparently she decided to "help out" by putting her dirty pants in the clean laundry pile. Well, at least she's trying I suppose. Much like she's trying by scattering her toys all over the floor, and her clothes, and everyone else's, everywhere as well. But hey, she does help pick up if you ask her to. Well, usually.
Today we went out to dinner with Lizard, her sister, and White Knight at a local Thai place that we all love. Sam decided it was a great game to dump the crayons on the table, and floor, and have White Knight pick them up for her. Thankfully he was willing to play with her and even draw with her when she did feel like coloring on the actual coloring page. Granted towards the end when I told her enough and she needed to behave, it didn't go over so well. Suffice to say she wound up in time out in the car seat with mommy leaning against the car trying not to lose her mind. However, she was a very good girl and went right to bed with no fussing when we got home. And she hasn't once tried to keep getting up out of her new toddler bed. I think she actually likes it way more than she ever liked the crib. Which is a good thing since Clay loves that crib.
Speaking of toddler beds, we had the wonderful adventure of putting together one of those this week. That being said, here's my version of instructions on how to build a toddler bed. Use as needed.
1. Make rum and coke
2. Take big drink of rum and coke
3. Pull all the pieces of the toddler bed out of the box and place on the floor
4. Find the instructions and throw them across the room. You shouldn't need them right?
5. Begin building, and realize you've built the entire bottom piece upside down and slightly backwards.
6. Go find the instructions, glance over them, and throw them away.
7. Build top half.
8. Realize you did it wrong again, take a drink of rum and coke while dumpster diving for the instructions somewhere under all the packaging in the trash.
9. Attempt to read instructions again.
10. Rebuild the top half and try to attach to the bottom half.
11. Give up, finish drink and try again tomorrow.
Well everyone, Lizard and White Knight have finally arrived and so I shall sign off for the night. Good night and sleep tight.
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