Sharpies and possession and pretzels... oh my!

I read something on the internet that was profound to me.  A mom, of four boys, who committed to not yelling for a year.  A year folks... a YEAR?!  I can barely get through a day with my preschool, selective hearing, rambunctious, destructive TWO boys without yelling... (and if that was to ever happen, I'd likely be drunk--and I'm not a huge drinker). 

Something that most people don't know about me is that I have very little faith that I'll follow through with most everything.  I suppose I get sidetracked by my tv, zone out, whatever... so I decided I would try the tactics that the article I read advised for a week.  (a year?!  still scratching my head at that one).  Ten minutes after reading the article the only thing I could remember was "before exploding say to yourself 'at least....' and finish that statement to minimize the action caused by the child(ren)".  (paraphrasing there, btw). 

Now--a week ago I hurt my back.  How is a whole additional story that includes bootie shaking and a punch in the face that nearly knocked me down the stairs (I was punched--to clarify).  I digress...  So, I decided in a moment of quiet peacefulness to relax my back.  Joel and Kaeden were watching tv on my bed in our room... I thought nothing of it.  When Joel walked out with a shotglass I thought "this might not be a great idea?" and asked what he had.  He instructed me that this black shot glass was a spiderweb. As he got closer I realized that it had been a clear shotglass that had black marker all over it, inside.  And then I saw it... the culprit, the danger, the epitome of all that is bad in the world of a mom of preschoolers... the dreaded sharpie (permanent marker).  And, at that point... I realized that the shotglass was not the only object of the sharpie's affection.  Joel was covered in sharpie marker...

This all would have been a "no harm no foul" moment, except that we had a picture appointment that afternoon.

Yeah.  Seriously.

I scooped up his poor naked (yes, I know... we have a newfound love of nudity here) body and put him on the kitchen counter as me, my washrag, and my bath and body works pumpkin cupcake handsoap went to town on him.  As I was washing his arms, his belly, and his face he sat smiling... and said so matter-of-factly "I drawed on my pee-pee momma".  Indeed, indeed you did young son.  Your father should be so proud.  Indelible pubic hairs on my preschooler.  Ugh.

Kaeden arrived shortly thereafter... or, should I call him "Presley, Kaeden Presley" as he had a new hairline and sideburns. 

Lord, give me the strength... I need to make it through the preschool years to be rewarded with the school years.  (oh the peace I fantasize will come with those years...)

And then it hit me "at least..." 1-at least they didn't draw on the walls or floors.  2-at least the soap and warm water was removing the ink from their bodies. 3-at least I have a blogworthy post to add to this very neglected site.


Then, after pictures at the mall, I decided we were doing well enough that we should be rewarded with the ever fattening mall food court.  The boys decided on chicken and a burger... and then decided to retreat from all plans of actual consumption (because we do spend money on food just to look at it, throw it, complain about it, etc).  After I finished eating I piled them into the cart I was able to "borrow" from Sears (I planned on using a mall stroller but that corral was broken).  I said nothing, just bagged up their food and threw that into the cart with these two overgrown toddlers.  Kaeden looked at me and quietly said "is you gonna yell mowma?" (I love the Boston accent these kids have).  I responded "No, but I'm not the one who's going to be hungry either".  --this story is important for the end of this post :)

After we left the mall, I had to run to Walgreens.  I needed medication for my back.  And, of course as Christmas is approaching and my kids are gaining in independence and awareness they want for all the toys that are displayed.  Amidst the search for the on sale medication, I discovered that the boys had wandered away from the cart.  As I walked to search I saw the Christmas wrapping paper aisle.  There was a woman in the aisle with me as we both saw the box that held the rolls of paper begin to shake.  She looked frightened, I was intrigued.  Then, the bags of bows came flying off the hanger, followed by the gift tags.  This poor woman stood, scared out of her mind, fearing that there was a ghost in Walgreens.  She said so herself "this store is haunted!".  It was after that, while standing utterly confused that I noticed the tip of a sippy cup.  At that moment I realized--Walgreens was haunted by a ghost called Joel, and that I was doomed to be mortified.  Shortly thereafter I heard "hewp momma, I is stuck!".    Yes, somehow, Joel got in between the aisles and couldn't break free.

As we arrived home, Joel and Kaeden went into starvation mode and began begging for dinner at 4:30pm.  Absolutely not... In strict "you should have eaten the lunch I bought" mode I informed them that dinner wouldn't be for a while so "sorry".  They managed to get into the pantry and find a bag of opened pretzels.  Joel, in his childhood hero mode was so enthused that he began screaming "I got da prehzuls Kayen!" and went running from the kitchen to Kaeden, in the family room.  Problem there?  He tripped over the threshold and that open bag of pretzels flew, hitting Kaeden, the baby, and every ounce of the freshly mopped/swept family room floor.

I smiled, and said "carry on" because ..."at least the floor was freshly cleaned".  (but again, now the floor has to be cleaned again :(  ). 


I post this partially for the hilariousness that has become my parenting journey but also to say that when things don't go our way, we don't have to get hysterical and scream with the thought that our aggression and frustration should and needs to be voiced.  Sometimes we (I) need to realize that my every word can effect these boys... and that I want a positive effect, not a negative one on them.  I love them and want them to never question that.  That isn't to say that I'm planning to ignore their bad behavior... but rather that I'm going to talk to them about it... and ask for suggestions on how to better those behaviors... and time out when necessary. 

So... here's to another new parenting strategy that will probably last a few weeks, but I'll secretly hold the mindset that I'd love to continue this forever--as I've begun to enjoy my boys in a way I hadn't since before they began walking/talking.  They're pretty funny little guys actually :)

Boys, Love, and Time.

Looking back on the days when Joel was born, I remember saying to my cousin that I had no idea how she had the time, with two children to play Farmville.  I too had been addicted to the game, but when my newborn son arrived... that game disappeared and thus began the life of late night feedings and screaming baby(s).  Now as Joel is nearing that 4yr old mark... and Kaeden is a very chatty 3 1/2yr old... and the baby is a huge ball of adorableness... I realize--those days, they were filled with all the time in the world. 

Kids change, and they do it in the blink of an eye.  A year ago I complained and wished my life away.  It was hard... no--beyond tolerable to deal with two young boys that were so loved that they were capable (still are capable) of driving this momma batty... Now, I look at these goobs and think "I remember when they were so much fun, now they're a chore, constantly."  ...pretty sure I felt that way last year too.  See, now though... they're silly.  And, they know they're silly to boot.  We run around saying "poopoo butt" and laugh ourselves into another level of goofiness.  We hear a fart or burp and its instantaneous giggling.  They, right before my very eyes, are turning into... dare I say it... boys.  Real boys.  Not babies... but boys.  Icky, nasty, dirty, wild boys.

And I swear, I had no idea that the reason Joel was holding his dad's phone snapping pictures behind me as I wrote that was because he thought taking pictures of my very large behind was comical.  I swear, that's totally just a coincidental motion to the post that I'm publishing.

AHHHH How did this happen?!  Where did I place my receipt and how long is that exchange policy good for? 

Ironically... as gross as they are (and trust me--as I've witnessed some very disgusting things between these two) they're so amazing and wonderful and heartwarming. 

A woman stopped me in a store recently and said 'aren't boys amazing?'  ...after I picked my mind up off the floor where it shot out to, I heard her say "my son was always a snuggler, a lover.  My daughter... not so much".  It's true.  They're just as loving and "snuggly" as they are nasty and disgusting.  Only Joel can remind me how much I'm loved as I walk in the door and he screams on the top of his lungs "MOMMYS HOME!!!" And, only Kaeden can melt my heart the way he does when he climbs into my lap and says "Mommy, sing me my sowung (song) peese".  ...still, three years later, we sing the song I sang to him in hopes and prayers that we would be able to adopt him and love him... forever.

As I began this, I will end this...

I never knew what it was really like not to have time.  Because in this moment... today, I have no time.  Dinner is calling, and as the reigning female of the house--it's my job to serve.

Ugh.

you tube, you are evil :P

While in a moment of silence and peace (which, btw, rarely occurs here with three very wild and loud boys) I decided to do some old school worship... something that I miss desperately.  I loved, in my "youth", to throw on a song of praise and wail out with all my might to sing.  While I'm aware that 11pm in the evening in a home with sleeping preschoolers/infant isn't the place to "wail", I desperately wanted to praise God for all He's doing in our lives.  So... to my phone, in silent desire, I began playing youtube video's.

While searching for a song called "Remember Me", I pondered upon "Everything to Me"--a song about adoption, and how being placed for adoption gave the singer (Mark Schultz) "everything" he could ever have asked for... the song really is a song of thanks to his birth mother for giving birth and making the most difficult decision she could by giving him an amazing life.  As an adoptive mom of two... I cry everytime I hear that song, with a grateful heart and also a hurt heart, because I can't imagine how difficult it was for my boys birth mothers to essentially walk away (they didn't appeal or fight the courts, which allowed us to adopt their amazingly beautiful little boys). 

That led to the song "He's My Son"... which in theory would have made me think of how I'd feel if my son was sick--but in reality just left me praying that our newby wouldn't go into a situation of where he would have fear or pain due to situations that are out of his control.  ..Which, of course, left me in tears and with a broken heart again.  I pray that this little guy lives a forever life in a family that will safely love him in a healthy environment.  He is such a precious and loving little soul.

I then saw a video of essentially just words from an aging parent to their child.  It had requests for patience and love as the aging parent had for their child in their early years.  ...it made me cry (and again, for my heart to ache) as I realize my grandparents, that I love so dearly, are coming into that stage of life.  They will be leaving this world, and the idea of that is so painful, because I feel that I haven't had enough time with them yet. 

So... here I am, blogging about how youtube is evil because it made me feel.  Feel.  Emotions... that I didn't want to feel, or experience, and had no real reason to up until I wanted to worship God.

Sometimes there is so much going on in the day to day life that you don't realize what is lying just underneath the surface.  And, if tonight was any possible example of what all I have brewing under the surface of my world... I'm shocked that I can get dressed each morning!  Hah. 

So much going on, so little time to think/deal with it all... and honestly, at the end of the day, all I want is more time to enjoy and appreciate all that I had that particular day.  I want to love the boys more and deeper and passionately than I do.  I want to appreciate the people I have surrounded myself and my family with.  I want to love more intensely than I already do... and I want to remember and endulge in those feelings and experiences each and every day.

Embarrass yourself, I dare you!

It's been about three years since the last true newborn was in the house.  Scary huh?  You forget so much in those formative years... and while I'm no where near super mom, I definately feel that I do enough to slide by feeling successful (as I shoo the older boys out of the kitchen so I can blog, but I digress...)

When Joel and Kaeden were babies there wasn't a moment I wasn't fawning all over them... trying anything and everything to make them smile... to increase our bond, and I believe I achieved this (just ask my "they scream for you everytime you leave" poor husband).  And... now with the addition of yet another "blue squad" baby... I'm off doing the same, bonding and being a goof.  And it hit me this morning.... in the midst of the cries to God Almighty "Why, why me?!" (dealing with a lot of challenging testing behavior with the big boys) I thought... when was the last time you made a fool of yourself with Joel and/or Kaeden?  When was the last time I got onto the ground and made MY dinosaur train fly through the air, crashing into whatever make believe dinosaur was in it's way and had all the crazy people that were on the train fly out screaming "ahhhhh!!"  ...yeah, not recently.

So, while I think nothing of doing stupid things to make Carter smile... I'm going to attempt, constructively, with conscious awareness, to do the same with the older kiddo's who deserve and need my attention and stupidity as well.  ...how else will they grow up and realize they need to rebel from their mom and act appropriate??  (kidding, kidding).

While I feel badly and I hold guilt, another thing on my mind is that I will likely update Carter's blog moreso than Joel and Kaeden's blogs.  I feel like the first year goes SO fast that documenting anything and everything is SO important (because when he's 20 he'll want to know the exact date that he first rolled over or sat up, right?).  So... yeah, momma guilt.  Isn't it lovely?  Haven't had that yet (shocks my friends... but I feel like parenting, without the death of ones self or any others, three children within a year of one another, was enough "success" to last at least five years without parental guilt... no??)

That being said... the natives are getting restless (or is that wrestle-less... if only).  Til next time...

My funny bones :)

Maybe it's their age.  Maybe it's my interpretation of what they say.  Maybe it's me being a mom and believing in the best.  Maybe it's because they're now able to communicate.  Maybe it's cause they (er, Kaeden) is so tiny.  OR maybe they really are, simply put, as funny as I think.

We have speech issues (cause, really what three year old do you know that doesn't?)... Yesterday I was told, "Comeon mommy!! Comeon!!  Wess go to dah fuff room!"  (in layman terms--Let's go to the front room).  One day I'm gonna ask him what we fuff in the fuff room.  He'll probably be a teenager at that point and have absolutely no idea what I mean... and I'll still think it's funny (until he checks me into the looney bin).

Last night, I was discussing with a therapist some of the developmental tasks we're supposed to watch for with Kaeden.  She said he should know his first and last name as well as his sex.  I asked if he knew what his sex was (knowing full well he hasn't got a clue what "sex" is).  He looked at me like I had two heads and then looked down.  I thought I'd embarrassed him (as if he was disappointed he didn't know the answer) and then he slammed his bare foot onto the table.  He then pointed to his foot and said "Mommy, I don't have no sex!"  (albiet socks).  ...apparently I have speech issues too.

And Joel, we can't possibly forget Joel, right?  Joel was playing with the internet tablet at the table and Kaeden (who isn't yet ready for the gentleness required for touch screens) wanted to see what was going on.  Kaeden jumped onto the chair with Joel who yelled "I get off!". 

I think I've got a perverted sense of humor... or I just find stupid immature sexual inuendo's from my children's verbalization to be hysterical. 

Either way... today as much as they're going to drive me crazy and make me want to scream... I'm loving the age and time a ton.  They're so precious, so fun, so comical, so aware, and becoming little boys.  It's fun to watch as their mom.

And, another perk I didn't think I'd get to see as an adoptive mom is how much they're "like" us.  I hear phrases (One sec!  Hold up!) from Joel and think "he totally got that from me :)"  It's such a sweet realization that they're watching and modeling you... so long as they don't pick up your bad habbits (please children, don't like chocolate as much as your mom does... that seventeenth candybar is NOT going to be worth it tomorrow). 

Now, onto their individual blogs to talk of Kaeden's upcoming BIRTHDAY!!  Ahh, how did that happen?!

Destructive Destruction, ala Joel and Kaeden

I have boys.  And, by definition boys are expected to be rough, tumble, active... totally get it.  Joel from day one was calm, quiet, reserved almost.  He was obsessive about trains from nearly birth (just before his first birthday).  I wouldn't have ever expected his crazy wild antics to have occurred the way they have.  Kaeden... he came into the world as a high maintenence baby.  He was needy, clingy, and made his presence known EVERYWHERE.  He, I would have expected to be loud and obnoxious. 

Funny how when their personalities come out, they're totally the opposite.

Joel is a leader... I suppose that's natural since he's the "older" brother.  (FYI--he hasn't figured this out.  He believes wholeheartedly that he fits into Kaeden's clothes and shoes, even though he's a minimum of two sizes bigger).  He can conive Kaeden into joining him in any venture big or small.  And poor Kaeden admires his brother so much that he has to be the side kick... no matter what the punishment will be afterwards.

In the past week these boys.... oh these boys...

For Christmas and Joel's birthday we were given a large amount of underpants for our potty training duo.  While we were grateful beyond words, they were all the same size.  So, I had kept what wouldn't fit in their drawers and decided I would exchange them for larger sizes.  I should have obviously done that, because after a few months of those underpants sitting on their dresser, the boys decided the fish were going to potty train.  All the underwear, brand new, in packages, were floating along with anything else the boys could find, in the aquarium.  Problem was, I didn't realize this for a while.  Most of the fish died.  The water was so dirty you couldn't see in the aquarium whatsoever.  (They managed to put a large canister of food in there as well).  I told their dad, aquarium is going.... I'm done with fish until we have a larger home that we can display a beautiful tank in a common area.

So, when I decided to clear the tank of all the water a few days later... I thought nothing of it.  I anticipated that we were causing the tank to weigh less so it was easier to move.  No biggie right?

One night when the boys were "asleep" I went to bed as well.  I was awakened at 3am by the banging of the door and yelling "mommy, open door!".  Not an abnormality as they wake up randomly through out the night on occassion.  It wasn't until my walk down the hall when I realized things got serious... their light was on and there was some weird substance (saw dust like) under my feet.  I believe the boys hadn't gone to bed and had decided to ransack their room.  When I walked in... I realized they (Joel) had climbed onto their dresser to turn on the lights.  They (Joel) had gone into the fish tank and pulled out all the rocks and anything else that was in the one inch of water left and thrown that all throughout the room (included in, two dead fish).  They pulled out their clothes from the dresser, as well as the bins of future clothes in their closet.  The room was completely and totally destroyed... and apparently to mask it all, they found a bottle of baby powder somewhere and finished the job by shooting that into every orphase of the room.

Patting myself on the back, I did not yell or even punish them... I clothed them (because of course, when our boys party, they do it naked) and told them to either go back to bed or clean and I walked out of the room.

...they went to sleep.

The next day, they cleaned up, with direction by their mother.  ...there's the punishment in that.

And, when we moved that aquarium to the garage, I decided Joel's bed could go into the nook that held the fish at one point.  He seemed to love it.  The boys wanted to play in their new "big" room (big equalling more space).  We thought nothing of it... and a half hour later or so, when they (Joel) began wrestling and they (Kaeden) were screaming we (parents) went in and discovered they had christened their new "big" room with what else... a canister full of fish food... like it was confetti.

Prior to becoming a mom I loved Mardi Gras.  I sure wish my kids would get with bead throwing rather than fish food/baby powder throwing.  It would be just as pretty and far easier to clean.  Ugh.

A Sticky Situation

A former coworker of mine (who I'm grateful to now call my friend) would comment on people and their personalities.  Some were dry, others were humble, some were hospitable, and others were comical.  All of those personalities she appreciated because they were real... the one particular personality she didn't appreciate was what she defined as "syrupy sweet".  She said it was unrealistic and though she herself used a syrupy sweetness to woo others when needed... overall it was a character flaw, which shouldn't become ones true personality.

This morning the weather was supposed to be bitterly cold.  Because of the weather forecast I decided that we'd probably spend the morning home, inside our warm home, where we could relax in our jammies (cause we totally don't do that on a regular day) and do whatever whenever.  We made plans to go to lunch and I went to begin our day with breakfast.  Asking my crazy children what it was that they wanted to eat for breakfast I heard "fries" and "donuts" (okay doo nuts, but still).  After explaining that we were going to lunch, I helped them to decide that pancakes and oatmeal were a good breakfast option. 

After breakfast I got a phone call.  The boys went about playing, and life was good.  I watched them bounce up and down over and over on those bounce ball's with handle things.  They laughed, knocked each other over, banged into walls, etc.  You know, all those fun fun things boys do with their silly destructive nature.  They climbed onto the train tables and threw trucks and cars from it, they played their memory game (kind of) and threw pieces of the game all through the front room (and later, I discovered through the house).  After the phone call and a bit of cleaning I went back into the kitchen to discover the stupidity of my prior ways...

My children decided the kitchen should be "syrupy sweet".  The managed to empty the entire bottle of syrup all over the table, floor, and chairs.  And really, what was I to do?  It was my mistake of leaving the syrup bottle on the table and my lack of watching them that left them with the strong desire to make the house just a little bit brighter, right? 

Note: that much syrup is not nearly as sticky as when it dries on your fork. 

And, ironically it was my two year old who ran in, when I screamed, and said "I no did it, Joel, go get in time out".  ...and yes, that syrup was all over Kaeden's plate, chair, and side of the table, not Joels (so I'm pretty sure, it was the accuser, not the accused, who was in fact found sticky handed).

All in a hard days, scratch that, morning's work.  Right?

Venting... parenting FAIL

A while ago I posted about an experience where having multiple kids in a "good behavior expected" situation ended up being disasterous as Joel got angry and threw his sippy cup across a banquet table nailing a bowl of salad and salad dressing and shooting it across the table onto an unsuspecting innocent bistandard. 

Today was SO much worse.

I laughed about that situation (above) after it happened.  It was embarrassing, it was frustrating, but all in all, life went on.  I suppose now in the moment I am still to raw to laugh... or maybe it's the realization that today's experience is something that will repeat throughout his childhood into adulthood.  ...who knows.

We went to church.  We usually go Sunday mornings, but I decided to go tonight since we were close and it would prevent us from having to arise early in the morning and prep, etc.  Joel goes to the preschool class while Kaeden is still in the nursery program.  Once Joel got checked in, he was fine.  When I went to pick him up I saw a picture on the video they play in the preschool hallway of him laying on a train table.  Cute, totally not acceptable at home, but cute.  I picked him up, and to his discerning nature, I did not allow him to go through the tunnel to get out of his class.  He then went to the church sanctuary, ran in, up onto the stage, and began banging on the drums (which, by the way, were still attached to microphones).  Amidst the pastor and a few others standing on stage, I grabbed him trying to explain acceptable and not acceptable and that these drums were too expensive for his crazy three year old hands to break.  ...Joel didn't understand.  He began yelling "walk big boy" meaning, put me down so I can walk.  After being punched in the face and kicked in the stomach, I obliged for a trail run.  Joel began running back on stage.  I grabbed the hood of his coat and swung him back around.  He kicked me in the leg and then knocked an entire row of chairs over.  I tried to tell him "This is God's house and we don't destroy other's homes!" and he then knocked another row over.  ...note to others, don't invite him in your home, he has no respect.

At that point I picked him up and with all my might I carried him to the car--with his hands smacking me over and over again in the face, and his feet kicking away at my already damaged uterus.

I love him, really I do.

I barely got to the car before the physical pain of these actions actually took effect.  With the gorilla strength I hear so much about, I took him, flung him into his car seat and said "we don't hit!" as deep and evil as I could. 

On our ride home, he took the entire large lemonaid I had gotten him for dinner before church and flung it up to the front seat.  Seeing as how I'm allergic to citrus, it was a lovely experience to see, all over a car that I have to clean now, and will have allergy issues because of it.  ...hello battery acid on skin feeling, I have so not missed you.

The truth of the matter is that on the ride home a thought went through my mind that sadly isn't a stranger of reaction to Joel's behavior issues... simply that of "if you put him outside the car, on the side of the road, and drive off... your life will be so much simpler".  I've often wondered why I feel so connected and loving towards Joel... and have justified this by saying "he made me a mom".  I have begun to believe that without that bond, Joel would be a homeless three year old.  Yeah, I said it. 

Nobody said this parenting thing was going to be easy... but along with that, nobody ever explained all the issues that come along with parenting a child who was exposed to God only knows what en utero...

I'm calling to get a ped appointment on Monday, and to get him back into occupational therapy and into a ped psych as well.  I don't know how much longer I can mentally take dealing with these insane crazy irrational impulsive behavior.

Secrets... so not good at keeping them

I don't do well keeping things under wraps.  I really don't.  When it's my life I want to tell anyone and everyone who will listen.  However... sometimes I think "I should just wait and hold off.  Don't get everyone's hopes up, for possible disappointment.  Keep that to yourself... it'll be better to hold off on the instant gratification of sharing the news as opposed to individually telling those who you love".  Know what I mean?  Right.

Since I truly believe that although everyone I know has this blog address and about eh, two of you may read it... I figure it's a pretty safe bet that I can devulge what's been eating at me for a week now, right?  Right. 

We're "in waiting".  Which, in and of itself, is truly not much.  We contacted the foster office and told them before Christmas sometime that we wanted to go forward with another child.  (yay, raaaah!!) The waiting is killing me.  We have had to jump through minimal hoops to get to the point we got to yesterday/today but hey, we're here.  Now... God, can I please get whatever child you've got coming to us?  Please??  Please???

Backing up, to where I was before that rant... before Christmas I told our caseworker we were ready for another.  We were offered twins--which I sanely replied "no" to.  (Be proud... anyone who knows how I was two years ago would have cautiously said "you refused a child?")  We were then told we had to have another walk through, as well as inspection (hoorah) and complete a bit of paperwork.  So... we finished that effective yesterday (sort of, emailed something else today that was minor and pointless). 

And, add in, while we were in the beginning stages of looking towards this... I put in a few requests for small stuff through an online chat board for baby items we didn't have.  ...between telling our story of "we adopt through foster care" I ended up having people offer to give us every item we were in need of for a very minimal cost--if not free.  Insane.  And, it's all here... ready for this child to come home into.  The only "need" we'll have beyond the basics are clothes (and what parent/grandparent of just boys isn't ready to go buck wild on pink and purple cuteness??).

So, yeah.  We're back into the waiting game... kind of similar to a woman who is nine months pregnant waiting for the baby to begin the contractions and present itself.  We're in that game... preparing like crazy, with the hopes of soon becoming parents for the third time.

Oh... and did I mention... if you're actually reading this--feel priveledged cause "it's a surprise".  ;)

Beer, er donut run!!

I went on a donut run this morning.  Yes, you read that right... a donut run.  A donut run that lasted 45 minutes.  No, I don't live far from a donut shop, and yes, we were there within five minutes of leaving the house.  No, there were not any complications that led to what my friends would deam a "stinky crap" kind of moment... but indeed, we were gone, for an insane 45 minutes, getting donuts.  Did I mention, the donuts were for Kaeden?  That could possibly be the 45 minute cause, right?

Yesterday we did a family day and headed to a local children's museum.  After leaving the museum eighteen hours later (three, but I digress) we intended to hit the attached donut shop.  It was closed, since it was Sunday.  Kaeden did NOT forget that he was entitled (hah) to a "doooo nut"  (insert: Kaeden was telling everyone "I want big boy do nuts" yesterday, which left quite a chuckle for most).  He has told me now for over 24 hours (cause he totally talks in his sleep, right?) I want yellow doo nuts mommy!!  So, what's a mom to do?  ....end the  madness, duh.

After we finished the morning "chores" I packed him into his coat and we jumped into the car.  We headed to the local donut shop, where I ordered half a dozen donuts--figuring Joel would enjoy some after school.  I asked for all frosted, some with sprinkles, and explained they were for little kids.  I got the box and showed them to Kaeden as I pulled into a gas station to fill up the car.  Kaeden said he wanted the "yellow" one--but there wasn't a yellow one.  I told him the colors (though he knew them anyhow) and he decided on a pink one.  After pumping gas I asked how his donut was and he said "no like it, different one".  ...I asked which one, frustrated, and he responded "not those".  Hmm?  Okay, so, what kind?  "yellow doo nut balls"  (insert embarrassing laughter here... my boys and their crazy speech issues).

Kaeden, for the record, apparently, does NOT like donuts.  He likes donut HOLES.  Duh mom, "yellow" means the type of cake, not the frosting.  So, off to a SECOND donut shop to get what the prince wants for breakfast... "yellow doo nut balls".

Note: they sell donut holes in smaller portions, and they're crazy affordable.  Ten donut holes--$2.  YAY.  We'll go that route in the future, all the time.  Regular donuts "aka "hole donuts"-per Kaeden, are far more expensive.


Til next time...