MIA

To all of you who check in to see if anything new is up, I am sorry that I haven't posted anything in a while. I have been out of town for about two weeks visiting with family. I just got home last night. There is nothing quite like coming home to the weather forecast from hell. It was 115 yesterday and today is even hotter. But I am back and already wondering what my next post should be. So check back in real soon to see! Thank you to all of you wonderful and dedicated readers. I never expected this blog to reach so many parts of the world. I love you all for setting aside some time out of your busy lives to check in and read my blog.

Truly humble,
crazy Mommy

Kid Police

I don't know about your children but, mine are completely incapable about half of the time to sense when I am not in the mood for their crap. Well my older son can sense my moods better than his younger brother. Daxton is just completely clueless! At what age do children learn not to throw rocks at a hornets nest? Now, these days don't happen all that often but when they do its just best for my family to do as they are told and not ask questions.

 About two months ago I was having one of these days. We had only been in our new house for a couple of weeks and there was moving clutter all over the house (just a side note: I HATE clutter. It is the quickest way to put me in a bad mood if that is what I wake up to.) There were some dirty dishes in the sink that I hadn't yet gotten to that day, and not one but both of my kids were over tired and cranky all day. Because of their moods and constant need for my attention I was unable to get anything done. After dinner was made and only partially eaten by the kids, I had had enough. Dax did the usual which was taking a few bites and then piece by piece threw the rest on the floor for me to pick up, and Corbin ate a few bites and then poked his belly and said "there's no more room. my tummy hurts." So I removed myself from the situation and stepped outside as not to terrify them when I exploded.

It was quiet outside on the back porch. The sun was dipping over the mountains on the other side of the house and all of the city lights were coming alive. Ahhh.... silence. Peace and quiet for about one whole minute.

Before I could really relax the sliding glass door swung open and out come two dinner covered, crying children. They begin climbing on me and screaming that they don't want to go to bed. How could they possibly sleep when there were so many toys left to play with?! I tried to reason with them. I put on my sympathetic mommy voice and told them that tomorrow was another day, and that they could play with whatever they didn't get to play with today. This didn't do what it was supposed to do, like the "perfect sitcom family" handbook said that it would. If it had, then they would have sweetly smiled and said "alright Mom, you're right. Goodnight. We will see you in the morning" and then march upstairs and retire to bed. But instead I got more complaining, exaggerated crying, and thrashing about as if they were being exercised of demons. 

At that very moment I heard a faint sound off in the distance. It started off as barely a hum and the noise began to draw closer. Now I knew what this magical noise was but my son had no idea. And he couldn't have heard the noise over his own wails of self pity. Off in the distance was the sound of a plan hatching. As the ice cream truck drew closer I made a sound of fake fear gurgle up out of my throat. "Oh no! Do you hear that?!" I cried  "do you know what that is?". Corbin ceased his convulsions. He looked at me like big foot might jump over the fence and snatch him up. We both stood there silence for a few moments as the sound increased. "What is it?" He shrieked.

I could barely keep the laughter from escaping my throat.  I said quietly "Why that's the kid police! They don't have sirens like the grown up police cars. Kid police sirens sound like nursery rhymes. They drive around after dinner and listen for the sound of kids that are throwing fits and not listening to their parents." "What do they do to them?" He asked in a small voice. "Well, if the kids are not making good choices and throwing fits and refusing to go to bed, then the kid police take them to their police station and you have to stay there over night." "But I don't want to go with them!" He cried out.  "Corbin, you can always make the right choice to listen to your parents that love you and only want the best for you. Are you ready for bed now?" Before I knew it the sliding door slammed shut and my son got ready for bed.

                           This is who I think he would imagine coming to get him. If you havent seen chitty chitty bang bang, then go watch it!

The rest of the night I pondered over whether I have completely damaged my child or not. i sort of giggled to myself when i realized that the ice cream truck conveniently drives by right after dinner each night, which just so happens to be when I am desperately trying to get them ready for bed. I also started wondering how much of every paycheck we should set aside for his future therapy bills. 

Last week my husband took Corbin out to get ice cream from the I've cream truck. He isn't scared anymore.

                              

Until next time my lovelys!

Dax - a diaper = a treasure hunt

                 

Well folks, it's been one of those weeks. You know the ones I'm talking about. The kids have obviously been abducted by aliens and replaced with crazy obnoxious small people that just look like them. This week has been insane. I've been running around like a chicken with my head cut off but somehow I haven't been productive at all! my nights have mostly consisted of me sitting in my kids room trying to get them to sleep for an hour or so. That is not normal behavior for them. I have played the role of referee all week. I cant even begin to count how many times I have said "Stop hitting your brother" "stop biting your brother" "stop putting your tongue in your brothers ear". But there was a moment that really became they cherry on the top of my week.

It was the time of day when everyone had been fed. It was time to bathe the kids and put them down. However bry ran across the street with Corbin to talk to the neighbors for a few minuets. So I decided I would just take dax into the shower with me instead of giving him a bath and then getting myself in the shower.

Now, I have very long, very thick hair. So before I shower I will sit on the end of my bed and brush it out really well. Okay this next part may be a little bit "tmi" but just bare with me. So I get undressed and also take Dax's diaper off. I sat down on the end of the bed and began brushing my hair. I called out to Dax, "Okay buddy, just a few more minutes and we will go shower." About 20 seconds later Dax stands at my feet and I notice that something is wrong with his body language. "Whats the matter Dax?" I say. "Poo poo" he replies. "where?" He points over his shoulder and looks at me again and repeats "Poo poo".  "Show me honey, where is the poo poo." He turns around and starts to walk, looking over his shoulder at me like Lassie leading Timmy to the well full of dynamite. As he leads me I notice that he has little brown smudges on his bum cheeks. We end up in my closet. There on the floor, in the middle of the closet is a big poop. Luckily it was sort of dry so it was easy to clean up (listen, you have to be thankful for the little blessings). I clean up Dax and then go back to brushing my hair. As I brushed I nervously glanced at the clock, at first thinking "Man, I bet he will have another accident" and then thinking "no, he wont need to go to the bathroom again before we can get showered off.". Well folks, I was wrong. It wasn't more then a a couple of minutes later that he stood at the end of the bed again and said "Mama, poo poo". "Oh come on buddy! You just went. How could you have pooped again?" he looked at me with those big blue eyes and repeats himself  "Mama poo poo". "Okay Dax, where is it?" He points down at his feet. There under his right foot is another turd. This one is not as dry and easy to clean up. At that moment I look around with my mouth hanging open, and I see them. There are a bunch of brown, right foot footprints all over my bedroom carpet. It looks like a bunch of Blues Clues littering the floor.

I scooped up Dax and hung him over my arm much like you would fling your beach towel over your forearm. I cleaned his bum again and as I was cleaning off his foot, It dawns on me (maybe this isn't all of the poop. Maybe he stepped in it and then walked away only leaving part of it on his foot.)  So now I am nude, crawling on my poop covered floor, following the clues, sort of like playing my own game of "find the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow". I searched high and low, under the bed, in the closet, next to the nightstand. It was no where to be found. I was thankful that I didn't find anything more. I walked around the room and cleaned the little brown footprints out of my carpet the  best that I could and then jumped into the shower before anything else could happen.

Later that evening after the kids were asleep a friend of ours came by to hang out and see our new house. We hung out for a bit and then she asked for a tour. We proudly showed her the downstairs stopping in each room to talk about what we had done and what we were planning to do. Eventually we made our way upstairs. The first stop on the upstairs tour is the kids playroom, followed by the master bedroom.

(Now before I continue I just want to take a minute and share with you an observation that I just realized the moment I opened the door to my bedroom. Hiding poop + steam from the shower + a closed door for 2 hours = a stench that is enough to knock you out! Okay now I will resume this horrible story.)

So we open the door and take a few steps into the room. Immediately my eyes are slightly burning and
Bry turns to me and says "what is that?". "What?" I say, somehow hoping that I am the only one with nostrils and I am smelling this alone. Maybe if I act like he is crazy then they will stop smelling it. "That smell?" he says. So Iguess my plan didnt work.  "Umm..... well I told you that there were some issues leading up to getting into the shower with Dax. But I don't know why it still smells" At this point our friend looks confused and slightly horrified as she is breathing in the evil stink and probably wondering what on earth I did to my child before getting into the shower. And then...... My husband spotted it!!  Below the  TV, under the table, In a smeared, lumpy, stinking pile was the remains of what came out of my sweet babies bowels. There were no poop tracks in that area earlier when I was searching. The only explination is, that he picked it up off of the floor and then flung it like a wild monkey. 

I was mortified! Immediately I grabbed the closest thing to me that seamed like it would clean it up (diaper wipes). I got down on my knees and began cleaning the mess as my husband continued the tour of our stink room. Will men ever learn? So here I am scrubbing at poopy carpet as Bryan walks around the room saying "Oh, we made this project a couple of weeks ago. Right  honey? Was it two weeks ago?" and I look up with a big smile on my face and happily chiming in "No, honey it was last week."

Oy vey! I sometimes have to pinch myself just to make sure that this is real life. It seems so unbelievable sometimes.Well, maybe by telling this story there is someone out there that will read it and be comforted in knowing that you are not alone. I guess these things happen to everyone, right? Please tell me you experience this stuff too! 

Until next time my lovely's!


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Patriotic mini wreath

Just a quick and super easy tutorial for the 4th of July. I realized I didn't have more then a handful of patriotic stuff to put up this year. So I have been at my craft table making a few things. The bonus is that each craft I have done has Either been only a few dollars ($5 at the most) or it has been free by re purposing things around the house. Well here we go!

Dollar store wreath? Check! Dollar store bundle of red white and blue flowers? Check! Hot glue gun and glue sticks? Check!

Just pop the flowers off of the stems and start gluing them to the wreath.

Make sure to alternate colors so that you don't get a weird clump of one color. Go all of the way around the wreath. It took 2 bundles of the flowers to go completely around the wreath.

My camera is missing so a lot of my photos have been taken on my phone. So, sorry for the not great photo quality. :)

Its a small wreath but totally adorable and super easy to make! MAKE ONE! You cant beat a $3 wreath!

Until next time my lovelys!