Looking back on the memory of...

Looking back on the memory of, the dance we shared beneath the stars above.  For a moment, all the world was right.  How was I to know that you'd never say goodbye... I'm glad I didn't know, the way it all would end, the way it all would go.  Our lives, are better left to chance.  I could have missed the pain, but I'd of had to miss, the dance.


A year ago my life was hectic--and that's saying it at best.  I was dying inside from the busyness of every day life... feeling like nothing was ever done or good enough and still after the day was over I was "good"... even with the crazy dirty house, the chaotic marriage we had barely put time into, and the exhaustion (oh the exhaustion).  I truly never saw the light at the end of the tunnel.  I lived simply to survive that particular day... all so I could go about the next in true ground hog fashion. 

And then we decided that life might be easier if we minimized our insanity by one child... and send our precious little girl back into the arms of the woman who will forever love her.  We said a simple goodbye thinking not of the emotions that would overtake us (me) later, but of the need of simplicity that our lives drastically begged for.  We were down to a family of four, our two boys and us--mom and dad.  Nothing really changed, the stress level didn't so much go down, but continued to raise. 

At that point, I called in assistance--a behavioral specialist, who was going to teach me (in my own, fogged and distorted mind) how to discipline my crazy wild sons.  And the moment she walked in the door she knew what was going on... a lovely disorder called "sensory processing" (commonly known as sensory integration dysfunction).  Hearing that phrase, that condition led to a complete and total emotional meltdown on my behalf... and then with knowledge, came power.  We began seeing therapist upon therapist upon therapist so that we (I) could learn how to properly parent children with SPD (because, they both have it, yay).  The more I learn, the more I grow.  The more I grow, the better off my boys have become.

Which brings us into the more recent moments where I look at these amazing little boys that my heart has busted into loving more than the world will ever understand.  And I think of the movie "Riding in Cars with Boys" and wonder if I too was like that mother, who didn't understand or know if she truly loved her son... because it was so beyond the world of where she expected parenting to be.  I look back upon myself, in 2011 and wonder "how" and "why" and "you poor thing".  Because in those moments of 2011 and some of 2010... as my boys were progressing--I was pulling my hair out with the certainty that my life was over... and that it was simply--never going to get any better.  Sugar coat it anyway you want... my idea of parenting those little guys was simply "i'm in over my head and don't know what to do".

Now...

My boys are amazing.  I am PROUD of my parenting.  I am BLESSED to have two beautiful sons that I ADORE just about as much as they adore me.  My boys are SMART, they are HYSTERICAL, they are OBSTINENT and CHALLENGING but they are, more than anything, as perfect as I could have ever hoped for.  Because, and simply because... I understand what kind of mommy I need to be to parent them.  I understand that while they appear to have black and white issues, most of their life is grey and will forever be grey.

Joel is progressing in intellegence beyond any of my wildest dreams.  He can count to twenty, numerically and theoretically.  He can spell and nearly write his name.  He knows all his colors and so much more.  Kaeden has become more social and couragious, he's standing up for himself and learning to self soothe better than I'd ever hoped for him.  He's able to play, and ask for help, and know that "mommy's come back" no matter what...

In the days when I look at what life has handed me and think--this plate is full of crap... I need to look back upon those early days when I could barely breathe from drowning in my own cup of overachieving intent... and remember that tomorrow will be better than today, and that today is a blessing in and of itself, because it's an experience to learn and grow and to know better for next time.

God--thank you for the gift of seeing the past through the eyes of the future... for knowing what was wrong and how it was righted... and for the peace in the decisions for this future.

Every year there is a show that plays around Christmas time called "A Home for the Holidays".  It's about foster care and the blessing that it is.  It shows different families created through foster care and tells the story of how they became a family together.  I began watching it three years ago, as I became a foster parent myself.  Every year it gets to me, touches my soul and while it wells my heart with a gratitude that is so unexplainable, it breaks it as well.

I'd love to say that foster care was my first choice, above biological children, above international or private adoption... it wasn't.  I didn't get into foster parenting with the goal to "help" or "change someone's life".  I became a foster parent to adopt, to have a forever child, to love.  I'm no saint.  I am a good hearted, loving person... but no saint.  Not like these stories... but you know what?  I wouldn't do it any other way... and I sure don't ever want to parent in another manner (biologically). 

I heard a song tonight on this show that I hadn't heard before.  Rascall Flat's "God Bless the Broken Road". 

I set out on a narrow way, many years ago
Hoping I would find true love along the broken road
But I got lost a time or two
Wiped my brow and kept pushing through
I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to you

Every long lost dream led me to where you are
Others who broke my heart, they were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms
This much I know is true

That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you
Yes He did

I think about the years I spent, just passing through
I'd like to have the time I lost, and give it back to you
But you just smile and take my hand
You've been there, you understand
It's all part of a grander plan that is coming true

Every long lost dream led me to where you are
Others who broke my heart, they were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms
This much I know is true

That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you

But now I'm just rolling home into my lover's arms
This much I know is true

That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you


It's funny how you think you're on one path, the goal in the end being the same thing and God has such a bigger plan, more amazing and perfect than you could ever imagine.  God sure blessed that broken road of infertillity for us... and brought us straight to our little boys.  I'm so grateful to be able to call them my children, and for them to be able to call me "mom".  I love them...

Sentiment of growing, looking back upon Christmas

The Christmas season is upon us and the realization that my babies aren't babies anymore kind of just hit me (as it does somewhat regularly, but today more than others).  I decided that before I lost the second set of Santa pictures, I should put it into our Christmas frame (seeing as how St. Nick's Day was last week and we're hellishly late on that type of decor).  When I grabbed out the frame, I saw pictures of Christmas past... and it made me realize these babies--they're little boys, progressively growing day by day into little men. 

Why do parents (or maybe it's just me) see their children and think that this day will be the same day forever?  Is it a coping mechinism to prevent us realizing that tomorrow they'll grow up, move away, and be adults?  Is it the denial factor that we want them to remain sweet (hah) innocent (occassionally) sheltered little ones that we can protect and love on, forever?  Why?

So, as I think about this season I'm looking towards next year already and the thought that these babies of mine will be 4 and 3.  How that's possible when they were both just drinking formula and trying baby food for the first time, is beyond me.  But, alas... they're growing up, getting more mature, and I'm loving and hating it all at the same time.

Vacation Blog, Part One...

A day before our cruise is scheduled to dock and we’re to exit the ship, I must blog (albeit off line) about the experience… because as a mom of two preschoolers, it’s been a doosy.  The ride down from home to the ship was long, yet the boys were quiet and calm, overall.  No meltdowns, no serious issues whatsoever.  The last half hour the clock was ticking down and they’d just had it… which was completely understandable and acceptable.  Ironically the day after, as we boarded the cruise ship, God love em, they were horrific nightmare children.  They were so excited to finally be on “the big boat” that they couldn’t contain themselves.  They screamed and cried throughout the boarding process (which, thankfully was done while we were in our car, driving).  They ran off the minute we got into customs, and throughout the trip, well… let’s say they’ve become well known little boys.

After waking up each morning and dressing, we (children) grab our room key necklaces and charge out the door, screaming “I push buttons!!” as our brother screams “NO!!  I push buttons!!” and so on, until we reach the elevator.  Upon getting to the elevator we begin pounding on the up/down buttons until the elevator arrives, laughing like fools (and while mommy and daddy continue telling us no, stop!).  Once in the elevator we push every button except the red lit one—because we’ve learned through experience that is the 911 button for the ship.  We got into trouble for that already.  When we get to the breakfast/lunch/dinner buffet we run like fools to the drink area where we fill our cups with juice and ask to eat outside—as either mommy or daddy manages three plates of food while we sit, enjoying the oceanic view.  After eating we typically run aboard the Lito Deck (where we’ve just eaten) and get on stage to “dance”, though to most adults watching, it appears like I’m playing/destroying the life sized chess set the boat has up there.  We’ve slowed down on smashing the pieces into the ground, now we just ride them like we’re at a rodeo.

We’ve gone to two places in the Bahamas.. Nassau and Freeport (commonly known as Grand Bahama Island).  Nassau we walked through town where the boys managed to woo the natives into giving them toys galore.  I believe we have a broken wooden car, broken wooden airplane, a few t-shirts, several maracas (one that’s been broken and sprayed a powdery mixture), two “walking turtles” and two straw Nemo fedora’s—all for a mere $100 or so.  We also took a tour and boarded a semi-submarine which took us to three areas of reef to see several tropical fish.  We were lucky to see an 8ft long sand shark laying at the bottom of the ocean as well—which was amazing to us as tourists and just as amazing to the tour guide as well.  After we finished our tour we went into customs and hung out a while.  There was a band that welcomed us in and Kaeden managed to bust out his maracas and jump into song with them.  It shouldn’t have been a shock when he ended up on stage jamming with the locals—but it was, none the less.

Freeport was far different in some aspects to Nassau.  Nassau was a more expensive area—lots of expensive designer shops while Freeport was devastated a few years back by a hurricane.  Most of their tourist area is destroyed.  There was a market about fifteen minutes into town at Port Lucaya, and also a beach we were able to visit.  There was so much devistation that when Joel yelled "ooh wow!!" after seeing a Burger King with a playland the taxi driver said "Well, I haven't heard those words from anyone in quite some time!"  In Port Lucaya, the boys went crazy as we saw and played in the ocean for the first time.  Kaeden ran to the sand and began to immediately roll in it—as though he’d just entered his own personal heaven.  Joel however wanted desperately to get to the water, preferably without having to touch any sand whatsoever.  After a short while both boys were just thrilled to run, play, jump, and splash around.  It was great fun, and we had plenty of opportunities to get great pictures as well.  After the beach we did a little shopping at the local market and had an authentic overly-priced Bahamian lunch.  While the boys (daddy included) got very Americanized food, I tried fried conch.  …glad for the experience as well as the awareness that I don’t like conch.

The night we left Freeport the boat had a great celebration and a bunch of dancing with a band on the boys favorite stage, on the Lito deck.  There was a band and dancers on the stage, with several people dancing below it… and when Joel said he was going to dance, I didn’t think anything of it… until I realized he had gone through the crowd and began his way on stage with his crew.  Mortified I began yelling “Joel, get down!!” thinking he’d be in trouble or that he would get hurt.  As I hadn’t expected Kaeden to get on stage in Nassau and jam with the locals—I didn’t expect that the locals on the boat would embrace Joel and get him jamming right along with them.  There is a video on board of Joel, on stage, doing what his bio siblings introduced me to as “the dougie” (though friends of mine call it “waddle”).  Ahh, to be young and uninhibited again.

And now we’re into our last full cruise day… prepared to leave tomorrow.  We’ve got another few days or so ahead of us in several different areas of the southeast.  Savannah, Georgia; Jacksonville, FL; and Chattanooga, TN along with trying to stop through Alabama at some point—just simply to say we’ve been there.  After that our boys will have been to:

Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania, North Carolina, South Carolina, Tennessee, Arkansas, Missouri, Michigan, Mississippi, Georgia, Florida, Alabama, and Georgia I believe (meaning, I don’t believe there are any more states they’ve visited at this point).  15 of 50 down in a mere three years… 35 left to go.

Murphy always wins, sort of.

Yesterday was probably one of the best days I've had being Joel and Kaeden's mom... not perfect, but a reall  y fun/great day.  I can see the light at the end of the toddler tantrum tunnel these days and I believe it's gonna be a fun one, someday soon.

For those unaware, we've been potty training for oh, a lifetime now (really I believe about four months).  Kaeden is pretty much done, he gets it.  He wears a diaper to sleep but overall is totally good to go throughout the day (even naptime--he has his own little potty in his room).  Joel is totally different.  He doesn't independently ask when he has the urge--he still has to be scheduled (though is willing and tries every time you say "let's try to go pee pee on the potty).  Joel does not poop on the potty, ever.  He will run off into a corner and be private about his defecation... he doesn't warn you or ask for a diaper even, he just goes.  The other night I took the boys to a McDonald's with a monsterous play land.  They LOVED it.  When they are usually "I'll eat then play" kind of kids--I couldn't get them to stop and eat... they were far too busy.  Well, Joel had a #2 accident before we went in and lost his underpants (because they were dirty and I didn't have a change of clothes).  While playing in the tubes I noticed him grabbing his pants and pulling them back behind his butt.  He'd soiled his pants (after the first incident) and it was EVERYWHERE.  I was livid.  I didn't have more clothes--so I took him out of the restaurant covered in MY coat.  He was devistated because there was no way he could continue playing in that play area.  The ride home (was about an hour) he was hysterical, crying, screaming, begging even to go back.  I told him--we will not go to another McDonald's play land until you start to poop in a potty!! 

Two days later, my boy, came up to me and said "McDonald's today!!"  I told him no, because he hadn't pooped in a potty yet.  He said "I poo poo in potty", and ran to the bathroom.  And... he did, right there.  For the first time at home, he pooped in that toilet like he had been doing it for years.  It was amazing.


After that, I packed the boys up and we went to church so I could speak to a group about our adoption through foster care story.  It was a great time and I love to tell the story of how God worked through our lives even in the depths of our despair and depression to make us parents of these two amazing little boys (and how we had the opportunity to love the little girl we fostered and were blessed enough to see her return to her very loving mother--who continues to allow us contact if we choose).  It was a great time.

When I picked the kids up from the daycare at church, they decided to run into a field where they both know they're not supposed to go (because there's no way but to chase them down to catch them--I can't corner them, hah).  They wouldn't come and each time I ran to get them they'd dart different ways, etc.  So, I told them I was going to McDonald's and if they didn't want to come they didn't have to.  I got into the car, they stood watching.  I turned the ignition on.  They again, stood watching.  I put the car into gear, not a movement.  I backed up and began toward my "exit" of the parkinglot (of course, watching them the whole time.  They both ran like crazy after the car.  I stopped about six stalls down from where I was parked and got them in the car.  Score.  One mom, Kids zero.  Joel kept saying "mommy's come back, no go away!"  Trickery, and yes, I'm very proud that I scored one over on two toddlers!

(seriously, you don't know them, they're trickery double teamed)

McDonald's was great.  Joel said he had to go "pee pee potty" and so we all went.  They played, Joel ate SIX chicken nuggets, fries, and apples.  Kaeden was more a usual suspect with the two nuggets and his little fries as well as the bag of apples.  They played hard, and had a great time.  Overall a very easy and fun visit.  No serious complications.

After McDonald's we had a few errands to run, but it was overall kind of fun. Sams Club with toddlers.. perfect portions for them :)  And, because it is so close to Thanksgiving/Christmas, they had several types of samples to try... macaroni and cheese, ham, potatoes, beef roast, wine (though not so much for the boys on that one :P).  It was great.  And besides the experience watching ourselves make silly faces and bang into things with the security camera's we did great (me not snapping on the boys and the boys being well behaved). 

After Sams Club we went to this restaurant that advertises "Kids Eat Free!!"  and figured it was a family restaurant (was a restaurant I felt was adult specific, but hey if you advertise stuff to parents about bringing their kids... it turns it into a family experience, no?)  The first booth they put us in was upstairs and the wall next to us was more loft like--had no protection from the level below (as in, the wall was as high as the table).  The boys threw everything they could get their hands on down below (thankfully there was no one sitting back there).  When the fear began to hit that the boys themselves could want to jump down that--we moved.  The next booth had a television but it was set to music videos and you couldn't change the channel :(  So my very tired children began acting up.  They were mostly silly obnoxious, but it was irritating regardless.  When we had finished eating I begged for the check.  As that came I stood up to get my wallet and keys out of my purse and Joel took it upon himself to follow my lead.  What I didn't realize was that our booth was next to (and by next to, I mean you step out and one foot would be half on the floor and half not) stairs.  Joel tumbled down those stairs, backwards, onto his head/neck.  My poor baby.  I'm crying as I write this because as a mom you just never want to see your child hurt... and not hurt in a serious manner. 

He was hysterical, and I was horrified.  I didn't knwo what to do or how to fix it.  I just held him, rubbing his back.  After about ten minutes of crying I asked him where he had owies.  He pointed to his neck.  His neck?!  No.... please God no.  So, off to the ER we went (thankfully daddy was getting home from work, so he picked up Kaeden).  It turned out to be muscle related, but that time in the ER was precious... to see this little boy, my baby, acting like such a big boy.  Nurses would ask him "what happened" and he said "I fall out a booth down stairs get owie my neck".  ...that same child who didn't talk a year ago.  He was precious.  He hung out initially in the chair next to me to tell his tale.  He later decided he wanted to get into the bed.  He crawled up into it and pulled the gown up over him and said "it blanket Mommy".  He then told me he was going night night.  Poor kid was tired, and trying to sleep on a gurney. 

So, that was my day... and I'm praying for calm today.  I'm looking forward to low-key, home stuff.  Daddy had to go back to work and may not have a day off until we leave for our trip later this week.  And, that's okay.  Because we have Daddy exclusively for ten days after that.  "Yay!"

Have an amazing Thanksgiving... and God bless.
Joel and Kaeden's usually frazzled and overtired Mommy :)

Travel... my plans.

I am in my mid thirties.  I have traveled a little bit in my time on earth, usually through family vacations with other families as a child or as an adult to random places throughout the US.  Only once, in my life, have I left this country.  And, as much as I truly believe I am less traveled than most--the older I get the more I realize I am more blessed than I know. 

We went away for the weekend with some friends to a water park hotel.  We went to celebrate Kaeden's adoption and that we don't have to ask permission from anyone to do anything with OUR son :)  We had a great time, but were shocked to find out that our friends daughter (slightly older than Joel) had never stayed in a hotel before.  It was adorable... but it made me realize, we really do lived a blessed life.

One of my goals (amongst a bazillion others) for my children is that they get to see all fifty states in their home country.  Any additional countries are a bonus, but overall, they are going to (if it kills me) see the US, in it's entirety.  On this goal, we've hit 10 so far, three years in.  Not too bad.  We're 20% of the way there.  We have another trip planned (far bigger) where we're taking a cruise to the Bahama's... and we'll go through an additional five states, finishing off our ventures to the south eastern portion of the US.  But along with that, my children, my babies, have their first passports.  It is kind of sad, somewhat, that my two year old, my three year old and I (as well as their dad) got our first passports together, hah.  But hey, we're going forward with a goal to educate and inspire our boys to love travel... and hope that one day they'll be passionate about learning of other cultures and countries too :)

In a few short weeks, we're heading off, onto "the big boat" to enjoy life as a family of four... and maybe, just maybe, we'll come back and become a family of five (or not... which is just fine too).

How the most insane day can become heartwarming (in the bitter cold)

There was a popular song when I was a teenager by Brandy or Monica called "Just One of them Days".  Totally thought it was about a girl who had PMS and didn't want to deal with her boyfriend... now I'm convinced it's about a mother not wanting to deal with her life.

Today started out actually surprisingly well (which you'd of thought would have tipped me off to what was coming--but naively I went on with a blind and dumb expectation that today would be a breeze).  Joel went into school without fighting to have me walk him to his class... I got to the gym for the first time this year (not really, but still) and was able to get a sweet, lovable Kaeden to walk into the gym, and run off to play in the kids area smiling and waving "bye bye momma, love you!".  A great work out, and even a ride home with no traffic.

Whoo hoo--in the words of my adorable little buttheads :)

I got home, knowing I needed to get some documentation for passports--the true calling of the day.  I went into the garage, not having a clue as to where the paperwork I needed was (don't ya just love that whole "I had this five years ago and it's somewhere in here" feeling?)  First box in--under a stack of pictures... surprise surprise, documents!!  Double whoo hoo.  Went to McDonald's, got two chicken nugget happymeals, stacked them nicely (halloween buckets, think food forall) and went to pick Joel up from school. 

Again, everything is great (whoo to the hooo to the holler!).  I even went as far as getting a grilled chicken sandwich and a fruit and yogurt (bogurt, via Kaeden) parfait---keeping my caloric intake super low for a fast food excursion. 

Then, I went to a government agency to look for assistance.  Dun dun dun.

Passports--they're the devil.  Who knew everyone was expected to kidnap their child from the country while their spouse wasn't looking.  ...now, Dad needs to get a day off work too, to prevent that (he only wishes we would escape and maximize his sanity and wallet--he's so not that lucky).  Lovely.  And, that's right, the first opportunity to do this passport thing... Saturday.  Interesting fact: our trip is three weeks from Wed.  ...and yes, I'm expecting these passports to arrive like yesterday.

The benefit of adopting so close to your vacation (a vacation, btw, booked to celebrate that we didn't have to ask a government official for permission to take our children out of the country--isn't that just uncle sam smacking me in the face and laughing his patootie off?)  is that you get to rush around, have anxiety attacks, and freak out for no real reason... because of the "hurry up and wait" process we American's are so expected to enjoy.

Breathe, girl.  Breathe.

After an hour of "we'll do this" call two people, crap, can't, "we'll do that", call two people, crap, can't... over and over, I came to the conclusion that we're going to buy passports illegally and live in Guam... okay, maybe not, but we are going to seriously pay out the patootie because we're going to go next week and get them with a super fab rush--a whopping 24-48hour turnaround.  (And you thought our government didn't rush anything, hah).  They who have money (are stupid stupid individuals, but I digress)....

So, I decided "let's not completely scrap this day", and I headed to a local children's museum.  I talked it up, keeping the boys awake and alert and excited... "we'll play with the water, and the train table, and the cows and...." oooh the time they're gonna have.  Into the parking garage we go... "boys--up up up up up" and they begin singing the newfound crazed "up" song (note: words are all "up"), all the way to the fifth floor of the parking garage...

And then I discover Joel has peed his pants--which he swears is NOT pee.  Thinking I'm seriously in trouble because I definately did NOT pack extra clothes... I manged to find a pair of Kaeden's underpants and Joel's pants burried in a cubby under the seat of the car.  That, that's God right there... just like the documents in the garage, I figure.  So, changed, dry, clean, and off we go...

Down the elevator, onto the very narrow sidewalk, jubilantly (is that a word?) walking excitedly towards the museum... singing about the fun we're going to have "water, water, jumping in the water, trains, trains, playing with the trains..."  all to see, Monday is the day they're NOT open.

Uhh?!

So, as a second best--Dunkin Donuts.  Totally... Joel has a newfound love of donuts (thanks to breakfast at his school) and they have halloween donuts (along with pumpkin k cups--holler).  So, we get a chocolate milk, a jug of juice, an iced coffee, and two donuts... and realize there are not only no public bathrooms here... but also, no place to sit.  Surprisingly, there was a nice table outside--in the 40degree weather, so, we went to sit there.  (brrrr). 

Know what?  That fifteen minutes of sitting calmly with my boys, watching them enjoy a donut and drink their juice/milk...  made my day.  It made everything that was crazy and difficult and anxiety ridden just disappear.  The cold weather and wind--totally didn't matter.  Man kids can seriously do a number on you.

After the donuts, Joel decided he was cold... so I switched up and decided "I'll do hot chocolate for him" and got that going... and I got them both a Christmas donut (seriously, before halloween, there are Christmas donuts?!)  As I paid the man, Joel dropped the remainder of his chocolate milk on the floor. 

Whoo hoo? 

And, as we were advised by a passer by---that the train station we were next to had a bathroom and warm place to eat, we rolled thatta way--for Joel to drop that entire cup of hot chocolate on their floor.

And, after a long battle of trying to find a post office to mail something we met my mom for dinner...

Where Joel and Kaeden were both served an open glass-glass of water.  (what the hell were those people thinking, lol).  And, I wonder why the busboy was scooting us out of the restaurant... they don't enjoy indoor waterparks??  I mean really... isn't everyone as entertained as I am when their son becomes a fountain??  It really is no wonder the busboy started snapping at me when the boys wen tto go check out the halloween decor.  ...even though they really truly were not doing anything wrong.

Ugh.

Anyhow--there's my day in a nutshell... though, speaking of nuts...

We have Percy (commonly heard as pussy) fights.  We discuss (but don't drink from) the Piston (pissing) Cup... and now, we're careful not to repeat our actions today of dripping frosting from our donut--because when that happens we point down to the crotch of our pants and yell "ut oh, ocky dooo nuts".  ...Kaeden, who spilled donut, apparently has "ocky doo nuts".  --his poor future wife.

Til next time folks

Turning a corner??

These past few days, I've begun to ponder life as a mom of two toddlers.  In the past it seemed highly overwhelming, stressful, frustrating, and difficult.  Thrown in there were moments of fun, but overall it was difficult. 

In the past week, as Joel has turned three... it's begun to be more fun than work.  I'm noticing this fun persona in my little boy that is making life just a little more enjoyable.  He's funny--but he doesn't really know it.  He's learning what rules are and expects everyone to follow them.  He'll refuse to allow you to cross the street if there is a car, three lights away from the corner you're standing on.  He'll push you back from the grassy area past the sidewalk (because he's not allowed on that area).  He knows not to touch the stove, and play in the sink (if he's supervised--when he can, he does attempt to get away with those tasks).  And, his speech is comical as well.  Trying to teach him to appropriately say certain things, and listening to his newfound approach is something that almost always leaves me in stitches.  (think Nemo as Knee Leg Smoe).

And Kaeden, oh Kaeden.  He's stuck in that "I want more independence" and it's driving me a bit crazy.  However, I will say that he has become my biggest little partner in crime.  He's such a sweetie... when Joel isn't around, he's a snuggle-butt and is so very concerned about how everyone around him feels.  He'll walk up and say "hug mommy, I love you!"  or "Mommy you okay?".  If he hurts you accidentally for whatever reason, immediately it's "I sorry, you okay?  Hugs, you okay?"  It's such a sweet thing to see--wondering if this too will carry on, into his adult life.  There are so many characteristics this little boy has that I had as a child.  Putting others first is another of those qualities.  So, as time goes on, we'll see.

So, lately, in short, parenting these two crazy balls of energy--it's been fun.  And, I'm happy to be able to say that.

No sir, I did not kidnap this child, the torture is mine, daily.

Many many times over I have introduced my boys as God's most wonderful, beautiful, amazing, adorable torture devices.  I remember as Joel and Kaeden both aged into the second year of torture thinking how this surely couldn't get worse as the third year comes like everyone seemed to say. 

If today is any inclination of how the future year is going to be, I think I'm in trouble.

Let me premise this to say, Joel barely slept last night (which is why I believe today was so much worse than normal).  Let me also say--I know one day I'll possibly laugh about this (and that others who have heard the story have laughed today) but so far--I'm not thinking "funny" (yet).

I took the boys to see Finding Nemo.  They've been watching it on their dvd players in the car for a week or two now and LOVE it.  Sharks, fishes, dolphins, birds... it's all amazing stuff!!  So, of course as Finding Nemo came out in 3-D (aka in the theater) it was an obvious decision to take them.  We didn't have too much going on today so we opted to go this afternoon.  I was grateful that the theater we were in was completely empty except for us--even though my boys (chest pumping out, eyes full of tearful pride) managed to sit through the majority of the movie quietly chomping on their popcorn, fruit snacks, and "emmy emm's".  They really did better than I'd ever have pictured!!  Beyond one potty break and the last five minutes wandering up and down the aisle we sat in--they were PERFECT! 

And then the movie ended... and the reality of "transitional problems" hit me.  Joel refused to leave.  I tried picking him up--and no, no way was he willingly going to leave.  Knowing I had two children, garbage, a diaper bag, two sippy cups, and two booster seats... carrying Joel was NOT an option.  So, I did something that I felt was safe (though I wouldn't in a crowded theater) and walked down the stairs and out the first door to throw away the garbage and put the seats away with Kaeden.  Joel followed soon thereafter saying "mommy?  mommy? bye-bye?" and I responded to him that yes, indeed we were going bye bye.  He began having a fit, screaming "NO BYE BYE!!" over and over, throwing himself onto the floor.  I picked him up once to be yelled at "Let go NOW!" and with that, he bolted from me, through the hallway, down to the lobby, and towards the doors to leave.  ...running after him was completely an option--but that would have left Kaeden on his own as well and in those moments you have to choose what is best to keep each child safe.  I ran to Joel, tried to pick him up so I could run back to get Kaeden and all the while Joel was screaming "No bye bye!! let go!! help me!!!"

So, it really was no shock that I was questioned about who I was appearing to kidnap, right?  I knew a while back it was a good idea to keep custody papers with me--in the aspect that I just might one day need them.  And after an experience where Joel was having a fit at the mall--I thought "you may want to always keep a birth certificate with you as well".  ...glad I had that thought.  My son's birth certificate, shot record, and adoption decree saved me from any possible kidnapping charges.  ...remind me to do something that dangerous, scary and embarrassing to Joel when he's a teenager and to reference it back to his toddler days on the run.

Attempting sarcasm... possibly

As typical for our family, daddy arrives home and away we go for family bonding time.  This time it was the county fair.  Hello my hillbilly friends, we're here to join you in our semi-city like life... in the sticks.  Yup.  Put on our cowboy hats and overalls, county fair time it is!

While attempting to scout the place out for our actual "gonna-spend-money" trip, we discovered the petting zoo.  Free, (yes, I said free) to the public.  You pay for feed, but seeing/touching/screaming/scaring the animals--that luxury for our toddlers is FREE.  (anybody hear the halelujia choir going on behind this post?).  And, so it was... the poor porcupine didn't leave his quill's down for a moment of pure toddler torture.  (and ironically, I only feared when they went near a zebra, who had a sign that said "I bite", ugh).

After running through the pen's of animals we decided we'd had enough time to attempt heart attacks on the poor livestock, and we exited--only to discover a heard of small goats/sheep looking desperately to eat anything coming from the hands near their cages.  We gave in and purchased two small cups of feed--and the goats litterally ate the cups out of the boys hands.  Lovely.  Yet another large cup, which fed those darn goats for at least thirty seconds before heading towards the real farm brood--pigs.  Glorious pigs!

We walk into the pig pen's (hahaha Charlie Brown music is blaring in my head now) and Daddy yells "don't touch the pigs!".  Why?  No idea.  I love pigs (no seriously, I really do... and I'm not trying to be funny about being in a house full of testosterone).  I honestly wanted to have a pig as a pet growing up.  So, touching the pigs was nothing to me.  Daddy thought differently.  The pig owner came over and asked why the boys weren't allowed to touch the pigs--and convinced Dad to let the boys touch the pigs.  I tried explaining they were corse.  Don't know how far that went into their little heads, but they enjoyed. 

After all that offensive talk about her pigs and the germs I suppose we had it coming with the "are you their mom" comment.  I know, I know... I'm totally not as cute as they are, nor am I as charismatic (true, I don't say "hi, I love you" to every person I come into contact with, like they do.  Sorry).  But seriously, what sane woman is going to take two toddlers, their crap, and their stroller out to a county fair at 10pm on a weekend, except their mom.  Ugh.  I spouted a "We adopted" to hear a "duh" from the woman.

Next time remind me to bring gloves, so I can sling some pig poo.

That being said... the boys had a great time.  They got to see a baby piglet screetch in their face (so going to explain they were like that when they're older), a cow pee a fountain right in front of them, and goats eat paper from their hands.  And amazingly enough, all they wanted to see was a horse.

Maybe tomorrow.

Oh, and I threw a curve ball at poor husband.  Told him I was thinking at least one, if not two more kids.  ...after he woke up from his faint, I said "but I promise, less than six".

I think he may get some sort of perminent job to prevent his mind from entering the house for more than sleeping purposes.

Til next time...

Joel and Kaeden's Mommy :)

Potty training, the next frontier

We decided to book a cruise.  A family vacation, if you may, where we can take our adopted children anywhere our hearts desire.  My heart, desiring to get them to as many places as possible prior to their legal adult life (including but not limited to all 50 states) decided a cruise would allow our family to not only see several states we haven't, but also to enjoy an affordable vacation to tropical places... and cruises, they have built in babysitting--so, it should be an enjoyable experience for all.

So, what does a mother of toddlers do to prepare for such a vacation?  Research, research, research!!  And what lovely, fun, awesome activities does this mommy find?  Well, one that stands out--the pool, which neither Kaeden nor Joel will be allowed to go in *if* they aren't potty trained.

Mouth open, screams attached.  What?!

So begins our journey to learn about "peepee potty" time.  And what a time it has been, let me tell you.  I'm not sure who's going to come out of this least tramatized--me or them.  Day one was entertaining at best.  Where do we peepee (resounding choir of cherub yells) "Peepee chair!" When do we want it? (confused looks from the toddler stampede) "Next year?".  ...exactly.

Day one was simply "how long can we hold this pee before mom will put our diaper back on".  And, for the record, that wasn't so long.  We were done by lunch--and tried again before bedtime.  Not one drop of matter outside the body.  Yay!  A day wasted.  On the upside--the boys did have a fun time picking out their potty chairs (frogs) and decorating them (Elmo and Thomas Train stickers).  I got good pictures of both of them smiling on their potties (from behind, so no inappropriateness) and turned those pictures in to their potty charts.

Day two was pretty much the same as day one.  The flip of that was we discovered how to pee in our big boy underpants.  Wah hoo.  (Can you sense my sarcasm?).  It wasn't until early afternoon when I discovered that Joel had actually peed outside his underpants--you know, on the kitchen floor.  Side note to all parents of toddlers: Urine is the same thing as water for water loving babies.  Watch your kids.  ...guess who thuroughly enjoyed playing in their own mess?  Yup.

Day two evening was far more progressive.  Kaeden was the first (and only at this point) to hit the potty with his little peter pecker... He was playing with his member and when I looked to see what was going on I noticed--He peed!!  As a frustrated mommy, seeing that it was working, I threw him and all his little liquid glory into the air screaming as though Christ had come back.  I let Kaeden flush his own "big boy pee pee" down the toilet, get two stickers, and a cookie.  He felt like the little prince that he was.  He had an accident just after that (I had offered him french fries, and he couldn't help but crawl into his seat to eat).  But actually used the potty, with purpose twice afterwards.  Both times that he did it intentionally he was screaming "pee pee, pee pee potty!" as he flew with ghusto to his chair.

Unfortunately, for the first time in his little life, the fair rule doesn't apply to Joel.  Though it would seem fair to share the stickers and cookies--I can't.  And trying to explain to a very sad and distraught toddler what earning his rewards is, isn't working so well.  Poor Joel is desperately trying to figure out how/why his peter pecker isn't peeing like Kaeden's.  He's even gone so far as to steal the "magic potty" to see if pee appears when he sits on it as well.  Poor kid.

But hey, here's hoping that we're able to play in the pool on the cruise!!  Right?!

Sensory Silly

Two children, two different sensory issues.  Joel, sensory seeking but not in the tactile area.  He, like myself, prefers not to have anything touching his skin... a piece of hair, grass, fuzz... doesn't matter, he doesn't like it.  Kaeden, prefers deep sensations tactilly (sp?).  If he sees a pile of dirt, he runs for it full steam ahead--jumps in, rolls in it (would probably get naked if he had the chance), and then puts it into his mouth to get further input. 

So today, we get sand for the boys sandbox, that's been sitting outside for over a year now... empty.  Joel, stands outside the box looking... shovel in hand, thinking "hmm, how can I play with this fun stuff without having to touch or stand in it?" and Kaeden, he grabs a shovel, throws it, dumps a bucket into the sandbox... fills it, and dumps the bucket over his head... all the while desperately trying to burry himself in sand--while sitting outside the box on the patio.

Why we would want to build in the sandbox is beyond me--cause we're far more fun than typical.  ...just saying.

These boys of mine... so silly, so unique, so wonderful.  As time goes on and we're learning more and more about the sensory issues that effect them and how to deal better with them, life is getting so much more amazing.  They're fun.  They're goofy.  They're gifts, and I plan to cherish them (even if I wonder what's going on in their crazy little heads half the time).

Til next time...

The "Wanted" Poster...

Oh Joel and Kaeden, what tangled webs we weave.

Today was an amazing day in the life of a friend of mine.  Years ago she was "undecided" about the concept of God, Jesus, and Christianity in general.  Today, I was blessed to sit along side of her as she publicly accepted Christ as her savior.  Praise God. 

While our intent was to surprise her with our arrival, we had to find out what service time she would be attending, so she got wind that we were coming.  She added us to her luncheon plans, which was provided by the church.  Sweet, unexpected, appreciated--sort of.

The unfortunate situation that occured has likely resulted in our children's pictures being placed on a "wanted" poster of sorts, preventing them from ever stepping foot into the facillity again--but hey, God still loves their crazy selves anyhow.  It's okay.

So, the story, of course--right?

I picked the boys up from the nursery.  We then went into the luncheon area to wait for our friend.  The wonderful helpers at the church got a few of the attachable high chairs for the kids.  Not wanting to cause issue, Kaeden and another little guy got into their seats (which, I unfortunately made a "cool" thing, leaving Joel wanting for a special chair).  Joel in turn began acting up--pouring glasses of water on the table, pulling on the table cloth, and irritating the other children with the hopes that he'd get put into a chair as well.  No such luck little guy--there weren't anymore of the attachable chairs!  As a last ditch effort, Joel picked up his sippy cup and launched it.  Now--this unfortunately isn't a new trick.  I should have seen it coming.  What I didn't foresee was the bowl of croutons and the bowl of salad dressing that was in the center of the table being nailed by his sippy cup and being shot directly into the lap of a woman who was waiting for her group of friends as well.

And, I suppose nobody would have seen anything except that she screamed (shocking, right?  Most of us would calmly sit as a sippy full of juice, a bowl of salad dressing, and a bowl of croutons flew into our face/lap/shirt, no?).  It was about that point that all heck broke loose and I decided 'nope, we're heading home'. 

Ironic that the lady at the door asked if we wanted a roll of bread to help the boys calm down (because I suppose the roll would be less traumatic for Joel's tablemates as he sent that flying, right?). 

"Jesus loves the little children".  ...I'm thinkin' Jesus was a boxer, or was much more capable of dodging flying objects as compared to us lay people.  ...just sayin.

Til next time... 
Joel and Kaeden's Mommy (who, btw, is thinking about investing in a hockey mask)

Poeticism... for my boys.

Many days we wake up, fresh and full of life
To be real, by breakfast, I'm half ready to die
Exhausted from diapers, tantrums, helping you to eat
Thinking of the rest of the days stress leaves me really beat.

Then playtime happens and it's screams of "NO" and "MINE"
and tantrums, hitting, kicking, passing that imaginary sanity line.
Just when I think I can't take anymore the clock then starts to ding
Reminding me that it's naptime, and relaxing time can begin.

Dishes, laundry, cleaning... prepping for the night
A moment or two of sanity regaining future sight
Soon I hear the noise of "Mama I awake!"
I think to myself whew, that was a nice break.

Happiness and delight with my little partners in crime
hoping for an outting trip, escaping from inside
To see their little eyes aglare, and feet running wild and free
It fills the best desire of happiness, deep inside of me.

My adorable little buddies, creaters of happiness and stress
Gifts of life galore, for they truly are the best
I complain far too often of the difficulties of life
Though in my heart I know, without them would never be right

I graciously accept my future... full of craziness, impulsiveness and love
With knowledge that these angels were sent from God above
Though my future will end up being crazier and even more than wild
you're a gift to teach me patience and love through the innocence of a child

Laughs and Tears

Children help you to realize so much that you had no idea existed.  We've learned about pictures that were hung too low (as they're ripping them off the wall), furniture arranged badly (because typically, a couch wasn't intended to be a trampoline, right?), gates hung too high (we're preventing them from entering a room, not teaching them to limbo, I think), you know--lessons.  And surely, it shouldn't have surprised me when I learned my latest lesson...

I shop too much.  (Or is the lesson that my son is too aware of what's going on in his little world?)

It was a rare evening when I was out, shopping, with one of the two baby-monsters (the other being in the cart with my mom, on the other side of the store--YAY).  Ironic as it seemed, Joel was in a great mood (whoo hoo--in his own words).  He helped to find toys, clothes, and other items to help us in our new journey to discover healthy sensory exercizes for him.  As we were lagging towards the cashier he began getting unruley, which was fine an hour into our excursion.  (Quite honestly, I'm shocked he made it that long).  As we got to the cashier stand I began encouraging our normal pattern of Joel putting the items that he can pick up onto the belt.  The employee was new, and I thought, "Great, hope this isn't going to take long".  As the employee was finishing our order I handed Joel my card and figured he would hand it to the cashier.  Boy was I wrong.  That big old toddler baby, stood up in the cart.  He then took the card and began searching for the area of the credit card machine to slide his card.  First on each side, then the realization that indeed it was up top.  He slid the card and picked up the pen to sign his two-year-old signature. 

So, Visa, Mastercard--Joel's ready to start stimulating the economy.  Where's his American dream?

...I think I may shop too often.  While some parents are teaching their kids the A,B,C's I'm teaching my children how to shop and spend money. Great parenting :P

In addition to that, last week while we were walking down the hallway (okay, more like I was walking down the hallway giving my back a workout carrying my galoof of a toddler), Joel looked at a picture of a friend of mine, myself, and a member of a band I enjoy.  He pointed to the band guy and yelled "Daddy".  ...Daddy then yelled "Your Mother wishes!!"  hah.

And, we can't leave out poor little Kaeden, now can we?

Kaeden is suspected of battling the same condition as Joel.  We're not completely sure, and it'll take more in depth evaluations to diagnose--however, one of the symptoms that was seen was his unending desire to talk.  Did I mention he's been talking since he was five months old?  He'd yell "I did it!" or "Daddy did it!" when he was mad about whatever was effecting him at that time.  It was comical--and a bit of relief for me, the mom, because I'm aware that once they can comprehend, I'll be the cause of all emotional and mental damages.

Anyhow, getting back to his motor-mouth activity... one morning when Kaeden woke up earlier than Joel I brought him into our room so he could bounce on the bed and watch some television.  During that time my mom (his favorite person in the world) called.  I let him talk to her (not an abnormal occurance) and relinquished rights to my phone for what I anticipated would be two minutes or so.  After watching an entire dvr'd program (30minutes) I asked Kaeden if I could have my phone back, as I laughed myself silly.  He was laid down on my bed, feet up in the air dangling and such just taaaaaaaalking away.  Apparently a taste of what a teenage girl would be like? 

Just so you know, he's going to have a prepaid cell phone--I can't even imagine what those bills are going to be like.  Wowzers.

And, lastly.... while Kaeden was spending some morning time with his Daah hee (Daddy) he began pointing out his newest talent--"Hiy's" (points to eyes).  "No!" (points to nose). "Years" (Ears). "Mouf" (Mouth). "Teeh's" (Teeth).  I asked him where Daddy's hair was and he looked at his father, kind of in a confused manner.  He then turned to me and put his hands up in the air while he echo'd "All Gone".  ...and poor Dad thought he wasn't going to have a heartless comedian til the child was a teenager.  Hah.

Edited to add:

While I had fallen asleep last night quite late (after the computer shut itself down mid-posting this) I was disheartened when I heard Joel awaken at 3:30am.  I can't say I blame him seeing as how he hadn't waken up since his nap the prior afternoon (essentially he went to bed at 6pm, and was waking up 9 hours later).  I went into his room to change his clothes and attempt to coax him back to bed.  I brought some chocolate milk, changed his diaper and clothes, and gave him some snuggle time.  He then crawled back into his bed.  I pulled his blanket up to his cheek and he took his sippy cup out of his mouth just long enough to say "Thank you Mommy, Love You".  ...tears of joy.  I so love those little boys :)

Kicking myself, while down.

So,

I'm feeling like about the worst mother ever. I've been crying for nearly an hour--and for someone who's never had a problem with any substance beyond chocolate I feel I've hit rock bottom. Sadly, it's not even an issue that is what one would say "horrific", and the situation isn't one of that makes me cowar in fear or frustration. It's simply that I had, in my face, for over a year, a child who's been suffereing and I was too damn stupid to see it. For this, I want to beat my head into a wall--because I should have simply known better and faught harder.

I feel that I've failed him. I have said for the past few days/weeks about another non-related situation that "to raise a child you need more than love". Wow did God take that and smack me in the face with it. Mother dearest--you need to stand up, advocate, and fight like the dickens for your babies... cause nobody else will. I just want to scream at myself "Stand up, be a mother!!".

Really... I shouldn't be crying so hard. People have dealt with and lived through so much worse than this. But the truth of it is just that I'm scared, ignorant, and disappointed. I'm glad we're moving forward with knowledge and working towards a better future for our kiddo(s), but in the same respect... it should have been done a long while ago.

Now, I simply have to let this feeling go. I have to go from today, advocate, and fight. I need to learn. I need to educate. I need to be my kids mother and demand better for them--through myself, our families and friends, and therapists.

Sprung

Spring has sprung. It's so beautiful outside and allergies are attacking little noses, just as their supposed to, right? Ugh. ...already got a call into our pediatrician for allergy meds.

::go me::

That being said...

I've always wondered how random shoes end up on roads here or there. Sometimes you think it's intentional (piles of random shoes--or those hung on electrical lines, etc.). It's so odd that one would just lose a shoe, on the side of the road. I mean, how would you walk home? People don't just think "oh, hey if I lose a shoe I'll throw another pair in my back pocket". (can you imagine the pockets on those pants?). So how, why, what reasoning is there in lost shoes on the road.

...edited to add: those random thoughts all occurred prior to becoming a parent--because now, I don't have the time to think about anything beyond "stop hitting your brother" or "use your words please, mommy doesn't understand what AAAAHHHHHH means".

So, today the big discovery came. And you know it's not just that euphoric moment where it just hits me and I think "wow". Because with Joel and Kaeden--nothing is that simple. (if it was, we wouldn't have sippy cups in the garbage and empty wrappers in the sink, now would we?).

Yesterday, while driving, we opened the windows of the car. The boys LOVED it. They yelled "hi" at every inatimate object they could find. They said "Buhbye!" to all those same objects as we drove past as well. It was great. So sweet, so innocent, so loving. Today, as they woke up in destructor mode, I decided that an outing would do us all well (they're strapped down, I'm wailing to music... kind of win-win, if I may). After spending a gazillion dollars at Sam's Club, I packed the children as well as all our unbagged crap into the car and headed home--for nap time (haha, right). Seeing as how they were in need of something to calm them (and screaming from me wasn't helping) I rolled down the windows for a replay of yesterday. Driving down that quiet street I decided to check my phone for something important (though, not important enough to not pay attention to the road, in hindsight). When I looked up--I noticed two police cars. One was behind me, one was on the passenger side of me. Frightened (because I'd been doing an illegal activity), I put my phone down and concentrated on the road. I noticed Kaeden say "ut oh", and honestly didn't think anything of it... until I saw a sock flailing in the wind (only to be followed by a shoe). And the cherub-like choir of "all gone" afterwards.


So, here becomes the awakening of that forgotten pondrence about the random shoes here and there. ...it's from distracted mothers and toddlers in destruction like mode.

Duh.

And my first thought after the police left my side? ...totally blogworthy.

Speaking of which...

The newest phrase in our home that is beyond overused is "Use your words". An interesting choice while you're trying to teach children that words work far better than the screaming they have come so very accustomed to. I'm enjoying more "please", "more", "sippy", and "eat"'s than I have in quite some time. The words that I haven't however anticipated have been quite prevelent as well.

One morning, Kaeden was walking around yelling the wonderful "s" word over and over and over again. As any good parent would do, I picked my mouth up off the floor and began asking if he was saying the one word I felt was close to his "s" spout off. Sit, Kaeden? Do you want to sit? "NOOO!" and back into the charming banter of his poop word. A few rounds later I picked him up, stating he surely wants to sit with mommy (duh). Pushing past and away from me he again yelled "NOOOO!" and went into his trucker jargan. Frustrated with it all, I said "Kaeden, what are you trying to tell me? I don't get you". ...to the television he runs screaming it--except his h was supposed to be silent and his t was intended to be a d (as in, SID). ...he was requesting his favorite cartoon, Sid the Science Kid.

Probably should teach him a phrase called "Duh Mom".

I have one very proud thing to boast about. After nearly their entire lives of working towards a goal, they've both achieved it. When I ask "Who loves you?" They now respond, in unison "My Mama!". ...ask them who they love (which I haven't trained them) and they respond "My Mama". Note: I'm fully aware that they have no idea what they're saying and that they're totally believing they're answering the first question :P

The grandparents didn't seem so keen on this. ...sorry aboutcha guys, you shoulda started training those bad boys two years ago, haha.

We're working on our abc's and our numbers. I was pleasantly surprised when after an hour of nonstop counting to ten that Kaeden discovered half of his numbers. He knows 1, 2, 3 and 7, 8, 9, 10. I'm thinking that he'll eventually figure out where 4-6 went but if not, hey, he'll go into politics and not accounting, right?

Seriously, I need to get him an agent when his adoption is finalized. He's that wild/crazy/cute.

On small accomplishment levels: Joel climbed up the steps for a bounce house slide today on his own (yay). And Kaeden's adoption date is set--though we're anticipating a continuance. We shall see.

...til next time.

Why Books Will NEVER Have ALL the Answers

I've been reading--and with two toddlers, that time is at a premium. While I'm new to this speed reading concept, I believe without doubt that I'm doing well at it. I used to bring books into the bathroom--but after a few experiences of flooding toilets and ruined books I've learned to leave them on the entertainment center which is typically on my way to the washroom--where I enjoy my three minutes of peace twice a day.

(oh bubble bath, where for art thou?!)

What have I been reading, you wonder? Tales of parents who've made it through having multiples (twins) that were two years old. And--tips of how they did it. (Hoo Ya!) See, Joel and Kaeden are super smart... and someone told me once that I need to be two steps ahead. I'm slow--so I've been two steps behind. Now, I'm armed with a book (comonly known as a trick) up my sleeve. Hah.

I'm reading about disciplining a toddler. I'm reading about how to direct the idea of actions and consequences with toddlers. And--I'm learning about the jealousy factor of having two toddlers (which sort of explains in a weird sort of way why they're so violent towards one another and not towards other children--most of the time). And, it's sort of working. Slow as it seems.

That's not to say the boys aren't pushing their limits at every opportunity. Oh boy are they.

Today... Kaeden decided it would be fun to see how far he was able to strip before his mom became upset and stopped him. Did I mention, it was in a restaurant? No? Yeah... fun stuff. And, when I went to stop him--his naked little butt ran through the restaurant laughing.

Love him.

Joel followed that up in an even more horrific manner. He ran into a parkinglot full of cars while I tried opening our car door. While that is nowhere near funny--running after him had to have been quite comical. Poor Kaeden, poor Kaeden. I had his hand in mine as I ran--which sent him and his little box of chicken nuggets into the air like a kite. Poor kid had no idea what hit him. And, thankfully he didn't hit the gravel the way his chicken nuggets did. After I caught Joel and got him into the car (very calmly snapping on him), Kaeden just looked at me and said "mama, kick in" (momma, chicken).

Sorry kid, your stomach's going to be just as naked as your butt was in the restaurant.

They're SO much fun!!

But truth be told, I have the hope that by summer I'll actually truthfully enjoy all moments with them. I'll relish in the fun, enjoy seeing their happiness, and cherish all that is my children. And, when I come down from the choclate high of tonight I'm sure I'll hit reality and remember that parenthood is the most difficult (albiet fulfilling) job I'll ever experience.

...now, to get some sleep.

Watch Out For Flying Debris

Oh the new tricks toddlers discover. Oh those tricks. Watering the carpet, trashing the front room, snow storming the family room, you name it--they do it. So, really, I shouldn't have been shocked at this mornings escapade. Ironically, I was. Yup.

Kaeden's newfound fear is the kitchen. Nothing in particular about the kitchen, but the kitchen itself. Initially we believed it was his fear of the attached laundry room, because the washing machine was something he hadn't expected to be on, which began the shrieks of terror. However, since then he's begun to fear the booster, the food, the table, the microwave, you know, everything that would prevent him from being forced to enjoy a meal as opposed to his choice of walking through the house dropping food everywhere. In toddler style, that is.

When Kaeden decided to follow Joel and I into the kitchen this morning where we were eating breakfast I was a bit surprised and believing stupidly that I, Mrs. #1 Mommy, had convinced Mr. Scardy-kid to enjoy the kitchen. Wasn't until his new "trick" that I realized--he's trying to make all others fear the kitchen as well.

Kaeden has discovered the ability to become a sprinkler. Instead of water, he uses food. Instead of a spicket he's using his mouth. Aka--he's spitting food like a crazed psycho all throughout the kitchen (okay, just on me, but still).

And amazingly enough--when he tells me "no" he understands what it means, right? Why he doesn't "respect" my no, is beyond me--but he definately is choosing to not comprehend it.

So, where exactly does the problem lie? In Kaeden's spitting or in his choice to ignore no? Neither--in mommy's choice to not allow him to destroy the house. Duh. Lesson learned.

Potty Training, the New Frontier

Joel is a pistol. I don't know if it's cause he's sick or because he's two, or just simply because he is. But, none the less, he's a pistol. Full of energy and fight. Full of agression and desire for independence. He is. Just simply, he is.

The newest struggle with my beautiful, wonderful, independent two year old is diaper changing. I've heard other parents say they communicated with their child that if the child didn't relax and let them change the diaper that the child would have to go on the potty. Seriously? How does THAT work? (note: I can barely get Joel to tell me if he's hungry without an all out ten minute tantrum). But hey, I'm trying despite it all.

There was a day last week when I faught him litterally on a public bathroom changing table to the point where we together decorated ourselves and the stall with a wonderfully tanish yellow--the "scent" was just an added bonus. Seriously ?!

So, I'm beginning to think it's just quite possible that this little independent fellow would like to begin the potty process. (Lord, please help me now). So, we're beginning any and all encouragement towards the process of excreting fluids and enjoying the air that hits a nekkid body. As in, while he's bathing if the feeling hits and he flows, we praise him for his venture into the pee-ing era. "YAY BIG PEE PEES!" (something that as a late twenty something, left into a life of enjoyment wouldn't dream would be the biggest thing since sliced bread, right?)

Fast forward to this morning... where we have sickies in the bed. Meaning, mommy, daddy, joel and kaeden--who are ALL sick were hanging out in the parental bed. Not a horribly abnormal thing (we do saturday morning wrestling matches in our bed... it's all relative). Joel, however, was seriously full in the diaper area, so I got diapers and decided to change the boys in our room. Joel, after having the freedom of running half nekkid, took off like a bat outta hewl running free (free bird?). Meanwhile, thinking nothing of it, I changed Kaeden. Daddy went to get sippy cups ready and I began psyching myself up for the battle I was going to have with Joel to get a diaper back on his nekkid little rear.

Yeah, it was about that point I realized he was over, on his dad's side of the bed, watering the carpet.

So, I think we've got the point of peeing outside of the diaper mastered. Now, redirecting him to a toilet/potty seat... that's going to be THE challenge, right?

It Aint Easy Bein' Green

There is no possible way, in this moment, that I could have ANY level of stank on me. And, the water bill that's coming is going to be insane. Simply put.

As is the norm, the children were bathed. They then went to bed, and I bathed myself. No biggie. The next day, medicine was shot at me--resulting in another shower. Such is life, sick children, that's how it goes. After dealing with an indoor day of "fun" I decided to sneak the boys out (because the world would be so disappointed in me for taking a sick child out of the house?) to McDonald's to get dinner and run a few errands (bank, post office, nothing major). I thought I was being this great mama by giving the boys a Shamrock Shake. As a child, (well more teenager) the Shamrock Shake was one of my most favorite treats.

Joel's ended up on the floor--where he launched it apparently in disappointment that it wasn't his typical and so very exciting vanilla. (Yes, he'd do the same with chocolate--he only likes vanilla, thus far). Kaeden's was still in his arms when we arrived at home, hah.

So, the boys have these shakes, we do the few errands I have to get done, and we headed home. I sat in the driveway talking on my cell phone about something completely unnecessary but simply enjoyed not being in the confines of our home. As I decided to end my call I went to get Kaeden from his carseat. It was there that I discovered his newfound love of the Irish heritage. My little Kaedechaun was COVERED in Shamrock Shake, trying desperately to rub that green mess out of his eyes, smiling like he'd just accomplished a great goal in his world. Indeed, dumping a shake on yourself, in your parents car, without getting yelled at is something that should be applauded, right? Ugh.

Shower/bathing again.

And, yes the water after that mess turned a milky green.

....hysterical.

That night, Joel woke up for the day at 2am. Why? He was coughing. Ugh. Kaeden decided to join the party an hour or two later. ...naptime was at 8am, no lie. We got in a second naptime--which I proudly did NOT participate in (house chores).

And, somehow tonight, after cooking a massively amazing meal, I've managed to destroy my hair yet again. (As in, there's pasta sauce somewhere stuck in there).

Surely this mommy thing is going to get easy one day, isn't it?

The Artist, soon to be Formerly Known as Kaeden

I asked Kaeden tonight if he was ready to go pee-pee on the potty. He responded "NO!" (not horribly unlike him). When I asked him why, he said "Dipee!". So, one would assume he enjoys the freedom of a diaper--being able to go when he choses, where he choses, and not needing to search for an adult to assist him in getting to a toilet.


This is irony at it's best, for many many reasons. First off, Kaeden LOVES to play with toilets. If he's able to sneak into a bathroom, there's a 98% guarantee that he's going to put something (anything) in the toilet and watch it flush down. I know this because of our defunct toilet that didn't work for two months. After that two month toilet-freeze, we got a plumber who discovered a hotwheels bus. Good times. Also good to know about Kaeden's newfound love of hotwheels.

Another ironic reason he doesn't want to escape the diaper is because of his love of nudity. One would assume that when a child desires so deeply to escape the diaper, pants, shirt, and socks that he *may* be ready to potty train, no? In Kaeden's case, I'm pretty sure it's just a newfound form of parental torture, particularly after using his fecal matter this afternoon to redecorate his crib. (apparently the urine decor needed an accent color?) We've decided his new name (nick name) should be Pablo Dein. Meaning Pablo Picasso mixed with Houdini (dein). ...One day I'll get to the Houdini reference--to include his five point harness, carseat, highchair, and stroller escapes.


Joel, on the other hand, had a pretty good day. He surprised me with discovering a newfound ability to plug a bathtub. Typically while bathing the boys, I'll get one of them out... unplug the tub, and the last kid standing is prevented from drowning as well as destroying the bathroom or their clothes as they run themselves back into the tub after prepping for bedtime (trust me, it's happened). Well, as I was putting Kaed into bed I heard the splashing and playing of a child in a normally filled tub. Wondering why, I went in to get Joel out and spy--at which point I discovered his new bath plug. What plug you say? His butt. Yes, my big bootie'd baby decided to shove his butt cheek onto the hole in the bathtub to prolong his water-play time.

Genius that boy.

Tomorrow we're going to attempt that McDonald's playland again. Pray for my sanity--and that my two days worth of dieting have resulted in enough weight loss not to die when scooting through the tubes so I can beat up some little girl who's trying to steal my baby.

Lord I'm going to be a horrible mother in law.

I fought the toddler, and the toddler won.

Burger king--you get it your way, right? McDonalds, not so much.

Today "grandma" called and said "I'm off work early and want to go to the McDonald's playland with the kids, meet me there?". We did.

We hit up a wholesaler before that, where Joel magically went from super, easy, calm, movie watching toddler to psycho-baby. ...love those moments. The thrashing, the screaming, the hitting and kicking, all occupational hazards of parenting a two year old. (well, a toddler with a behavior issue, I guess). Half way through the grocery shopping trip I managed to find a book that had a hand-puppet thing in the book. ...scared the hell outta that boy when it charged to bite his nose off. Score, one for mom. .......finally.

Afterwards we headed to McDonald's, at which point the boys ran from the door directly to the playland. Well, Joel did. Kaeden stopped to socialize a bit on his way. (shocking). I ordered food while grandma went to watch the boys destroy the place. A good hour between eating and getting bored, we finally decided that it was time to leave (not to mention, Kaeden continuously came up to us saying "buh bye!", hinting that he was done). When I bundled Kaed up to head back out to the car, he began thrashing and acting out (remind me to thank Joel for teaching him those wonderful toddler-tricks). I got him into his carseat at which point I went back to get Joel (between grandma and I we had both kids covered at all times).

How's about Joel decided he wasn't done playing (shocker eh?) I called up to the top of the playland and said "time to go bye bye Joel". He responded "bye" as if to tell me "See ya mom, I'm moving in to McDonald's, I'll sleep in a booth and eat greasy food for the rest of my amazing little life". A short while later I heard him coming down the slide. Immediately I ran to the bottom of the slide and said "I have your juice!". He smiled, laughed and scooted right back up that slide while yelling "bye bye mama!".

Punk.

Did I mention I'm far too old and fat to crawl back up after that super-charged toddler. (note to self: don't EVER give him an energy drink).

Two other times I had him in near grasp while coming down the slide--all to have him scoot back up backwards to avoid me, laughing his little butt off as he rolled. A little girl who he was playing with even had the audacity to tell me "Lady, he's my friend and he's not leaving, go away!" (yes, I strongly desired smacking her later when she came down, but I restrained).

I heard a swooshing noise and looked over to see that Joel had taken his happy meal toy (a hotwheels car) and thrown it down the slide. I jumped up to grab it thinking "surely he'll spaz if he can't have his car". Again, he spotted me and scooted back up the slide.

It wasn't until his evil little girlfriend decided to play at a table that I finally got my grubby momma paws on him.

...if girlfriends in the future are going to be this big of a hassle, I'm thinking I'll convince him that the priesthood is his calling.

Yes, this torture is mine.

This weekend was a bit hectic for our family, nothing bad just lots to do. Sunday, during a short period of "downtime" we decided to venture out to the mall, where we expected our very active little ones would enjoy running in the mall playground. This isn't an unusual place where they haven't been before, we actually frequent mall playgrounds pretty regularly. Point being, when my kids see the mall entrance we're usually greeted with a resounding "YAY", as opposed to the typical screams of containment we experience.

We decided to "reward" the children by not getting our own very normal, side by side twin stroller out and investing in the extravagent car stroller that you can rent from the mall. Typically the boys LOVE that stroller and scream to get it. So, being the cool, fun parents we thought, sure, why not! As we put the money in and the stroller was released, we got Kaeden in quite easily. I strapped him in (did I mention that Kaeden really should have been named Houdini, cause he can escape from anything?) and went for Joel. Joel began screaming and thrashing around--because unlike the many times of the past, he had decided he did NOT want to be in that particular stroller. (My assumption? He wanted to walk). We forced him into the stroller, as we wanted to do a bit of shopping before hitting the playground area--all to have Joel begin his typical toddler-thrash dance. He flings himself backwards, screams, bangs his head, overall it's an all out war for freedom (kind of like Bush's attempt on Iraq, without the guns).

Seeing as how we're the "aware" parents, knowing he's searching to 1-get his way and 2-get attention, we ignore the problem and continue on our way. Yes, as our toddler is thrashing around, hurting himself, we're steadily walking the halls of the mall, enjoying (hah) ourselves. A first-time-experience occurred shortly thereafter when a mall security guard stopped us to ask what was wrong with Joel. Interestingly enough, I'm 99.5% positive that he suspected that we'd kidnapped the thrash-tastic child we were torturing with that cool stroller. It wasn't until I snapped at the security guard "he's two, that's how they do" that he finally backed off and let us be.

Note: when we released that crackin in the mall playground, he was happy as a clam.


Joel discovered cupcakes and oreo's this week. (Mom's going on a diet and had to get all the junk food eaten and gone--hence the increase in sugar diet). When he made it into the kitchen, he grabbed the sams club sized box of cupcakes, smacked me in the side with it, and screamed "OH GAH! CUH CAYS!". Yes, in toddler jargan that was "oh God, cupcakes!". I think.

And the oreo experience... wow. I was thinking "his first oreo, he's going to love it!" I hand it to him, he twists off the top cookie, throws it on the ground, and began licking the cream as though he'd had a thousand cookies like this in the past. ...now I'm wondering which grandparent taught him that (particularly the throwing the cookie part on the ground). Both have admitted that they've given the boys oreo's... and are in violation of the grandparent contract (kidding, kidding). Gotta love those spoiling grandparents (are there really any other kind?)

That being said, our days lately have been pretty relaxed (dare I say). We joined a baby gym, where they ran and played and hit up a park while enjoying this beautiful winter weather (seriously, 50's in January?). Tomorrow we're heading to that McDonald's where we lost Kaeden last week. ...should be an entertaining experience.

Til next time...

Flying poo, I mean food.

It's nearing the 1am mark on a Friday night/Saturday morning. Three years ago, I'd still be out. Tonight, I'm home, just finished putting away groceries, blogging about the insanity that has become my life. Where once insanity was about the bars, dancing, and bands... it's now become the food fights, destruction, and silly things that come from itty bitty mouths of babes.

I was greeted this morning by a naked little fellow in bed. While this may have at once been a very shocking but exciting thing--today, not so much. That naked little fellow was the infamous Kaeden and he'd ripped everything, including his diaper off... thrown it onto the floor, and proceeded to redecorate with urine, all over his room. "Surprise Mommy!" is what I believe his Kaeden-ese said as I groaned for the first time today--at 7:30, am. (but, for the record, he did repeate "I get naked" when I asked why he was naked. So sweet.)

Joel decided that Olive Garden wasn't exciting enough at lunch time. ...they must not have gotten the memo about the circus show we brought to town cause they sure didn't seem very amused with the plate throwing and food flying. Tough crowd, yet again.

We did discover the McDonald's playland today. The breath of fresh greased up air that hit my lungs was enough to let me sing from the mountain tops "Hallelujia!!" because those little ankle biters of mine escaped into happy glee that didn't result in destruction, danger, or a mess for nearly an hour. Now, when we discovered we'd lost Kaeden somewhere in a tube lined tree there was a bit of the natural chaos that seems to come so very naturally anymore--but we did eventually find a character that seemed to fit the bill.

In addition to all that, we enjoyed time at the park, with snow coming down at about 8pm tonight. Yes, yes, I'm aware that 8pm is the boys bedtime, but hey, when a snow covered park comes calling it's hard to say no. Just ask them. And, Mommy enjoyed screaming "I'm gonna get you!!" and chasing after them. ...my version of hysterical torture (not to be confused with theirs, which usually results in a very large clean up in aisle whatever). Note to self: don't chase Kaeden and his itty bitty legs while he's not watching for divot's in the mulch. Well, not without his super-baby cape cause when he goes flying, he REALLY goes flying. (and that divot was right next to the slide so, picture whoosh, dink, and the baby is back up and running while mommy's furreaaaking out).

Now, yesterday...

Yesterday was one of those "why did I want children again" kind of days. After a shortened night of sleep and a lot of activity we ditched the idea of naptime to enjoy lunch with the boys grandma. I decided it might be fun to go to a hibachi grill restaurant. The boys thought it was fun to try to scare the fish that the restaurant housed. (hopefully there were no fish harmed in the housing of our children in said restaurant). When the grill started up, the boys were scared straight... as they clung on for safety seeing fire shooting off the grill. My thoughts? Dear Lord why was I thinking this was a good idea, they're going to be three and turn into pyromaniacs!

I digress.

Lunch actually went fairly well. We had one plate fly, a juice cup spill (thrown) and shatter, and two fairly quiet toddlers. I'd give them a 6. Yup, even with the broken dishes and food splatters.

Later in the day we went to a baby store to introduce a newly pregnant mommy friend of mine into the ever-loving-necessities of having a baby. (now, how did they do this whole child rearing in the olden days without the bumbo, exersaucer, formula seperators, and moby wraps?) Joel didn't get enough sleep, nap wise, and had an all out fit in the store. He was so bad he vomitted all over him and myself. Yup--you're grossed out now, just wait--it's gonna get worse. My poor friend tried to help and I demanded she just walk back, away. ...by the end of our shopping trip after trying animal crackers, new sippy cups, juice, m&m's, and fruit pouches Joel had surely convinced her that all she needed for this child was an abortion--because if they were all as bad as Joel, God save the world.

Then we went to dinner. Walking in, I thought... I've got the perfect plan (laugh now, seriously). I'll send her to get her food while I change the boys diapers, and then I'll leave them with her while I order for us. Great. No fighting with them to stand still, and peace for the thirty seconds it takes to order. Score! What I hadn't considered in that was who was going to assist in supervising while I was changing diapers. Doesn't sound like a big deal but toddlers who are banned from bathrooms, allowed to run lose in a one stall private bathroom--DANGER!! By the time I finished the first diaper Joel had managed to empty the female hygiene recepticle into the toilet. (as I said, gross). Note to self: add plastic gloves to the diaper bag, and be thankful that I was smart enough to put hand sanitizer in.

So... that's the end of my week in a nutshell (toiletbowl?).

And, amazingly enough... I love those little monsters with more than my whole being and wouldn't trade the insanity of my life for a moment. (but then again, remember it's 1:30am and I definately am lacking sleep).

"tada!"

Today my facebook status said "Moms of multiples, how did you get through the terrible two's without picking up a drinking habbit". Earlier today my mindset was "it's strange to love someone so much that you don't particularly like".

...I think I need some wine.

My pastor said that all human beings are created in sin. He even went so far as to say that the beautiful, healthy, happy, perfect children that are sent home to be raised by us super-mom's are sinful. ...shocked, we all sat questioning the sanity of our religious leader. He then reminded us to ask the parent of a two year old.

Interestingly enough, as I write this, my two year old just dumped an entire game and it's eight gazillion small pieces on the floor, said "tada" and walked away. Note to self: you are not only a mother, teacher, cook, referee, housekeeper, super-woman, but also a vacuum. (too bad I'm not as scary as *that* vacuum, huh?)

Backing up, thinking of our day (yes, just today) I put each child into time out (for fighting with one another) at least seven times (each). I faught (fought?) for two hours to get one down for a 45minute nap (got to love developmental therapy times!), and was welcomed into a front room full of styrofoam after taking a five minute "got to find my sanity" bathroom break.

Another day of toddler life.

I almost forgot to mention the boys newest trick! How dare I?!

We have introduced the concept (I laugh as I say concept) of "the open cup" (hearing the echo's, cup cup cup cup?). What I expected to be the next milestone of growing up, sanity, learning, eh, whatever... has become the newest tool of torture (or would that be toy of torture?). As a housewife I would say I swept and mopped our floors about, oh, once a month. I've learned that as a mom of toddlers I have to sweep two or three times a day and mop at least once every other day (well, I should. That, however, doesn't actually happen).

The open cup (cup cup cup cup) has increased my housecleaning chores by leaps and bounds (chime in with childhood "YAY's" right now). Seriously?! I think I'm going to take stock in McDonald's and work with the straw, lid combo. Who thinks these things up?! Open cups for two year olds. Whoever that is, I'm bringing my destructor children to their house to destroy their floors. Though, I'd bet they would be smart enough to convince their two year olds to drink water, too, huh?

...yes, propel is the best I can do on the water scale. I'm a schmuck. I know.

So, as I set this entry to a close... picture me, bent over, mopping the floors, sweeping the "where'd-you-get-styrofoam" styrofoam, and enjoying my everlasting supply of invisible bon-bon's.. because that's simply the life of a mom of two in the terrible two's.

Which sippy cup did I hide that wine in again? (kidding, kidding).

Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad, Difficult, Tantruming Day

In my days of teacher aiding, so very long ago, I remember a book the kids loved... "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day". Ironically, that's pretty much what played over and over again in my brain most of the day today.

Feel free to laugh at my experience... at least it makes it worth it.

I didn't clean up the kids toys last night (sue me, I was tired). So, this morning they awoke to a crazy mess. (YAY). They didn't seem to mind... so why would I? After diaper and clothing changes I decided to make peanutbutter sandwiches on cinnimon raisin bread for breakfast. Thinking I'd let them have the "special fun" breakfast and eat at their new kids table, in our front room, I left them to entertain themselves in the toy jungle (aka our front room). Now, when I grabbed their sippy cups to fill, I managed to turn and see my sweet, adorable boys covered in white powder. As the sippy's fell to the ground, and the shriek's began I think they realized that something was wrong. The something they thought was wrong probably wasn't that they opened and dropped the entire tub of cookies that were left (by Grandma, I swear) in the toy jungle--but probably more the knowledge that their unfilled sippy's just hit the floor.

How dare I.

As the snow began to fall outside, I began cleaning the snow in the toy jungle. ...and, I didn't mind that the vacuum scared them, just so you know. I was quietly content that they were both standing on the couch as though a mouse ran under it--screaming their little heads off, while they watched the vacuum blaring. ...secretly I hope the "trama" of my cleaning helps them to stop destroying my house. ...maybe in about twenty years that dream will come true. Til then, I'll have to enjoy the vacuum torture that occurs. (and did I mention Kaed's new fear of the washing machine? ...weird, but we'll catagorize that for later use).

After breakfast, we had playtime before heading off to a fun, exciting day at a local children's museum. My favorite church ladies arranged this for the local mommies. YES--sanity, other mom's! I asked the boys "are you ready to go play with your friends?!". Both nodded "no".

Surely they have no idea what they're saying--so into your coats you go. ...and nevermind that having to chase you down and force you into your coat. I got that game mastered sir.

So, into the car we go. Everyone in a pretty decent mood. We get to the museum and after a short while of "get over here and wait patiently" (and that game--two year olds don't do well with, btw) we paid and entered. Immediately "Whoa, WOW"'s began. They stood outside the water room drooling at the thought of getting ahold of all that splashing--surely. Okay, maybe I was the drooling one--thinking of how much water these little water monsters were going to throw around a room and I didn't have to clean it up (yeah, I said it). But first--lockers. Because, in our old days we brought the stroller everywhere--and we're *trying* life with feet.

Trust me--I prefer the stroller.

About an hour into playing... meltdown #1. And for the following hour, meltdown's #2-#186. Two and a half hours in (maybe) I decided to leave. Probably good too, since about three seconds before pulling into the driveway the boys fell asleep. Too bad Kaeden's that child who wakes up and thinks he's rested for an entire night. Note to self: Kaeden can go to bed six hours early tonight--he'll be tired.

Since they fell asleep I decided to treat myself to a coffee at McDonalds. Wasn't until I got to the window that I realized... diaper bag, which housed my wallet, was thrown into the trunk. Never mind coffee... we'll meet again another time.

After naps, I decided to pack those poor children back into their winter gear to battle the snow. We had to get our van from the dealership where it was having recall work done. Rather than search for their shoes (aka newest and coolest toys) I decided to carry them to the car. Though Kaed was having one of his screaming fits--I decided to grab Joel first. I told Kaed I'd be right back. ...I should have known better. After I got Joel strapped in, I turned to discover a very proud and cold Kaeden standing in front of the car, in six inches of snow drift, wearing nothing but his socks (well, on his feet, he was dressed).

Seriously child? Do you get "cold"? Ugh.

So, off we go. In a blizzard. To get a van that we can't even drive (cause neither of the boys has their license, duh). And kerplunk (sp?). We got as far as the curb before that itty bitty rental got stuck. (note: don't make fun of the mom-mobile--which has bigger, far more expensive, tires that get through more than six inches of snow--well maybe?). At that point, I looked to the heavens and told God "k, I give up." I unpacked the kids (and even carried Kaeden, preventing further frostbite on his itty bitty toes) and turned on a nice kids show. I then went to the garage and retrieved a shovel.

At that point--I released my inner crackin'. I shoveled (and did a horrible job) my stress away.

Intro

Old Mister Webster defines "inspiration" as an idea or someone who inspires. Who better than to inspire you than your own children? The idea, to document all the many times they make you laugh, cry, pull your hair out, scream, and double over with complete and total joy.

So begins "The Mommy Adventures". (note: our children were welcomed into our world through the amazing gift of foster/adoption).

Introducing the "characters". (haha, characters, like the little joyful turture devices aren't "real" people).

Joel-my amazingly wonderful tantruming two year old son. He grabbed my heart the first day I met him. God blessed me and softened my heart the day we met. He was merely two days old. Peaceful, dependent, beautiful, ...amazing. These days, he's an independent thinker, an avid train lover, big brother, lover and fighter. He prides himself on praise and destroys all in his path when having a bad day/moment. ...God love him, but I can't wait for these two year old tantrums to subside.

Kaeden-my cute comedian. Nearing the two year old mark he's a charmer. He knows he's hysterical and I'm pretty sure he's caught on to his cuteness as well. Dimples deep as fresh summer potholes and skin so carmel that it makes you want to dip an apple in him (don't, he's usually just as sticky as carmel). He's my future class clown. He dances, sings, and plays any instrument you put in front of him (not well, but he plays). He's destined to be an entertainer--or a used car salesman. Either way.

Now, to get to a "real" entry...