Not even early enough to qualify as "Morning":
I'm not quite sure why my boys' internal clocks are set to go off simultaneously at 5:45 am... But I'm pretty sure they were both crying in the living room as I made their breakfast for no other apparent reason other than they are the spawns of the Devil (- who happened to be still sleeping in bed. On a Monday. Damn him.) Both of my children sat there, tears in their eyes and sobbing uncontrollably. Why? Who-the-heck-knows-why?!?! I mean I'm the woman currently PMS-ing and they are breaking down like I just broke the news that Santa is mythical. It's ok. Really, it is. Because today is the first day of preschool for my 4-year old. I've waited all summer for this day to arrive.
I used to tell people that I use up all my patience for the day on my children. That's not entirely true though. Sometimes, they use up my daily allotment for patience within the first 10 minutes of being awake. Today, my patience was G O N E by 7:30. AM.
Ugh--- thank goodness my husband was taking Jman to school so I could nap when the baby naps. That was my saving grace. I put that little stinker down at 7:55am and QUICKLY took the year's annual "1st day of school" photos. Which were amazing, by the way. Jman actually asked to have his picture taken- which is highly unusual for him. As soon as the priority shots were taken, I found out the reason. You see, he just recently learned how to tap his foot and make music. He wanted it documented because he really is amazing at tapping his toes. His words not mine. I would say his modesty is what I love most about him... And yes, he's totally a mini-me. Probably why I lose patience so quickly with him. Smh. Man, I love that kid.
Mid-morning:
Gray woke up around 10am. Which means I woke up at 10am. I'm ok with that. I got a coffee and a shower and felt a lot better after sleeping some more. I'm just not meant to be a morning person I guess. Heaven help me when I get a Big-Girl job some day.
Let me continue on with this part of my day by saying I have 3 younger sisters. We all have that type of love-hate relationship that most of my friends with sisters have. You know, it's the kind that even when you "hate" them, no one else is allowed to voice their hatred of them except you or else you rip them a new one and later on laugh at yourself bc you just realized that you are no longer mad at them for whatever the original reason was... Unless of course you have a brother- which I don't. I have no clue about brothers. Sorry. Ok, back to my sisters. The one right under me is a police officer. We look alike. We talk alike. We have the same mannerisms. People confuse us all the time. We've just accepted it. Only problem is that she's 2 years younger than me, is engaged (to another officer), has no children and is about a head shorter than me. Even with all this, I still managed to get called by her name at her bridal shower. Awesome lol.
So, back to why the is relevant. I have a very wonderful great-great-aunt. She's in her 90s and loves my boys. I wanted to give her a call today to see if our plans for a rendez-vous on Friday were still a "go"! I called and said it was Becca. We talked for about 35 minutes total. The first 15 minutes, I was Becca. The LAST 20 minutes were spent with her asking me questions about my sister and the big riot that is currently going on in Missouri. I was confused for about 5 minutes and then I did what any good great-great-niece would do... I went along with it. Better just accept the fact that she thought I was my sister and play along with it. What was funnier was that she told "me" about her nice visit with me (the ACTUAL me) and my family. "Oh", she said,"and those boys are just so cute, but man are they a handful. Becca doesn't have a minute to herself. She deserves a vacation."
This I know. Which is why I'm going on one in a couple days. By myself.
It was a nice little chit chat and I found myself calling every family member who'd answer their phone about it. Ah well, at least I know she genuinely likes us still hahahaha.
While I was talking to her, I re-sanitized the family room. It smelled like Clorox. So we left to pick up Jman from school.
AFTERnoon:
Pick up went well. School went well. Jman was "exhausted" from apparently doing nothing all morning. I mean I did ask him what he did and his reply was, "eh, nothing." He needs to stop talking to my husband so much. I'm a woman. I want details! He knows this. But, alas, he was tired and could not move his muscles to get out of the car at Costco. Ticked off, I decided Costco was going to have to wait. I really didn't want to have 2 screaming children at such a chaotic place. Plus, I know with both of them there, it'd take me 3xs as long to get the 4 items I needed. Better just wait til later. So, home we go.
Both boys were content to just sit in Jman's room so I could carpet clean. (I know, it's the one chore I absolutely love to do. I'm crazy. I get it. Originally, I loved doing it bc it's instant gratification: you turn on the machine, push the button, drag the device and instantly see all the dirty-discolored water right there in the discard-tub. Now, I love carpet cleaning bc it's the one device that completely let's me tune out the voices of my little angels. Despite their attempts to amp up their volumes. Mwahahahahahahah) anyways, I carpet clean the living room before Gray looks like he's ready for an afternoon nap (YESSSS!). I put him down at 2. Without a fight.
Then, Jman happened.
He comes out of his room, yelling at the top of his lungs as though I'm still running the carpet cleaner- which I am not by the way- "maaaaaahhhhhhhhhaaaaaammmmmmmmm!!! I need a drink and snack, prontooooooooo!"
Aw hell no, son. You did not just do that. Never mind he was calling me like I was nothing more than his own personal assistant, but he was YELLING! When the baby seriously just went to bed. Are you serious?! Then...
Wait for it...
Gray wakes up. Duh, you knew that was coming.
So, I carpet clean the whole house, except our bedroom. I don't know WHY that always happens, but it does. Maybe it's because I'm ok with ME living in filth, well, by filth, I mean mounds of clothes and in-vacuumed carpets. Clean sheets, though, I can't live without. And as it so happens, mine were washed earlier this morning along with my huge, fluffy comforter. They both smell like Heaven. For realz. And my husband will not appreciate it, but I'm also Ok with that too lol.
Back to how my afternoon was funny.
So I had just finished dumping out my 2nd to last tub of dirty water when Jman says, "hey mom, remember in the car when I farted and it really smelled and I said I needed to poop?"
Me: "yes, I remember that smell very well"
Jman: "well, I just remembered... I never went poop!" And then he gets this silly look on his face and smacks his forehead. "Silly me! Ok, I'm going to go poop now."
That's not even the funniest part either. So I'm in the process of finishing up the last couple of square feet when he is screaming my name at the top of his lungs and telling me I have got to see this piece of poop!
Jman:"it looks just like sand! It's until-freaking-believable!" (<- yeah, I may or may not have said that phrase a time or two around him...)
And you know what, it did look like sand. And because he was so damn proud of himself too, I refrained from laughing or getting grossed out. Because it smelled awful. How can anything so smelly come from someone so small?!?!
Dinner/bed time:
Gray went down for another nap at 4 because I could no longer think straight. Jman got to watch TV and have a snack so he was happy. We all woke up, had a delicious dinner and started our pre-bed time play time. On tonight's agenda: head stands and forward rolls. Baby Gray is amazing at both and has no fear going upside down. Jman... Is a work in progress. He's getting better, but Gray- I've created a monster. He'll come over to you, pretend to sit down, then put his hands and his head on the floor and yell at you until you lift his feet in the air. He's a silly guy.
It was time for bed.
Originally, Gray went down easily. Jman went down easily.
Then, I was reminded why I'm done having children.
Gray woke up, somehow figured out the concept of opening doors and proceeded to come out into the family room where my husband and I were sitting. Fuck. Me.
He was a drooling mess so I thought, "teething. He needs medicine. Let's give him some Motrin so he can go back to sleep and ease his teething pain". Yeah, I was wrong. I give him his meds and within a minute of swallowing the last little bit, he does this really wet burp. The kind that preceeds vomit. That kind of burp. So I quickly pick him up, trying to soothe him before he causes himself to throw up. All is going according to plan, when out of the blue he pushes away from me and pukes all over me: in my hair, in my ear, down my cheek, down my shirt (through two shirts I would like to add), down my arms and onto the floor as I rushed him over to the kitchen floor. Too late, it was everywhere. Oh, you see Gray couldn't have just thrown up his medicine, because that would've been too easy. No, no, nooooooo people... He threw up his dinner, dessert and curdled strawberry milk in addition to his medicine. I washed us both, but I still smell like throw-up.
At that point, I was ready for bed. Gray did not feel the same though. He wanted to play. That's fine, both myself and my husband are awake: he could play with Gray and I could write this so everyone else who had a rough day could read my blog and maybe have a better night :)
Gray is my shadow. Where i go, he goes. So if I move to the couch, he moves to the couch. And if I move to the floor, he moves to the floor. And if I move to the love seat? Yes, you guessed it- he's right there with me. So the fact that I am not the one playing with him is pissing him off. What's a baby to do right? What would you do?
If you're answer was smack your mom square in the face with a Nerf Foam Sword so har her glasses fall off, then yes, you are correct. It hurt. I was pissed. My husband was trying so hard to conceal his laughter. Ass.
Then, my husband decides it is time for him to go to bed. "Him" being my husband. NOT the baby. So here I am, ending my blog so I can put the baby to bed because he is currently trying to open mouth kiss me. I'm not sure why he doesn't close his mouth, but I've got drool everywhere. It's really adding to the vomit-perfume I'm wearing. Oh, ah yes, ther's the smell I was waiting for. Poop. Nice one, Gray. Santa's bringing you coal for Christmas.
Tomorrow they BOTH are in school for 4 glorious hours and I'll be at 2 drs apts. ah... It's the little things in life. Goodnight all!
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