Kitty Love

While we own two cats, we almost never get pictures of them. This is because they are often in hiding, escaping from the exuberant love of two preschoolers. Our boys love the cats and often chase them down, trying to hug and pet the reluctant felines.

Nolan "cuddles" Teddy.

Fortunately for Teddy, we opened the sliding glass door and let him escape to an area free of three foot tall hyper beings.

The skittishness of the cats frustrated Matthew last night, and he finally said, "Mom, cats are no good. We need a dog!"

One of THOSE Weeks

When you have kids, you know it isn't going to be all tea parties and glittery bliss.

Our fun little week was going along brilliantly, with the exception of a frustrating doctor appointment and lingering colds. Then, on Thursday night, Matthew was taking a bath when he uttered, "Oopsie."

I won't go into the details, but let's just say there was an accident which required the use of a slotted spoon and lots of Clorox. And some Drano. And a screwdriver and plumber's snake. Yes, it was a long night.

The following morning dawned brightly, and I figured the previous night's incident was a fluke and we were back onto our normal track. I sent Matt to preschool, mopped all the floors, and then picked Matt up from preschool. We were on a tight schedule- lunch and then a visit from our speech therapist.

Matt went downstairs, then came back upstairs. "Oopsie."

Another accident, this time in his pants. Except this time, he tried to clean it up himself. With exactly 10 minutes before the speech therapist was to arrive, I managed to clean the child up, re-mop the bathroom floor, start a new load of laundry, and say a prayer of thanks for the people who invented Clorox.

Our speech therapist arrived, helped both of my children learn to speak, and then departed. Never in the history of motherhood was naptime more anticipated than on this day.

Luckily, Matthew fell asleep on the recliner. I didn't bother to move him, lest I wake him up. I covered him with a blanket and took Nolan upstairs for his nap. I came back downstairs and re-positioned Matt, who was curiously damp. Actually, the whole recliner was damp. After moving the leaking child and going through an entire bottle of "Super Pet Strength Upholstery Cleaner," I sat down.

Bang. Bang. Bang. BANG BANG BANG.

Oh, good heavens. Nolan was making a racket upstairs. What in the world could that noise possibly be? I almost didn't want to know. Perhaps it would just stop and Nolan would go back to sleep. With the way the day had been going, I figured it was entirely possible that Nolan had disassembled the second floor of our house. I summoned some courage, went upstairs, and found this:





A toilet-water drenched two-year old, pretending to "fix the toilet." With the tools we had accidentally left upstairs from the whole slotted-spoon/bathtub incident. And an entire roll of toilet paper placed into the toilet. At least he didn't try to flush it.

Sometimes, things go so drastically wrong, that the only reaction you can have (to keep from losing your mind), is to calmly remove said child, decontaminate him, put him back in his bed, and then go downstairs. And laugh. Hysterically.

One day, this will actually be funny. For now, I'm just glad that week is behind us!

Marbles

I love marbles. They're simple, they're fun, and they're just so darned pretty. November has been immeasurably kind to us and has granted us many gorgeous days. Today was a sunny day that begged for a game of marbles on the driveway.

Bear Count, Redux

In Nolan's opinion, one can never have enough bears. I counted six bears on this night, but it is entirely possible there are more hiding under the blankets.

Dance Night

Almost every night, our boys like to dance to music. Sadly, they do not like "Mommy music," but prefer Daddy's punk CD's. I think they like the beat in Dennis's favorite songs!

Tonight's Bear Count

Nolan is a boy who loves his bears. He has one "special" bear, which is nearly always with him at bedtime. We always check on him before we go to bed, to tuck him in, give him a tiny kiss, and to do the nightly bear count. We've had as many as six bears in his bed, but last night there were only three.

I'm going to miss these days of feetie pajamas and bear slumber parties when they're gone!

More Leaf Piles

Random Rule of Childhood #1: Jumping in leaf piles is always fun.


Random Rule of Childhood #2: If you are going to jump into a giant leaf pile, you should probably make sure that it isn't the giant leaf pile that Daddy is going to haul to the compost pile.