St. Patrick's Day with the Wee One

There were a few shenanigans at our house for St. Patrick's Day.

Camden was giddier for St. Patrick's Day than he was for Christmas.  I was confused by his enthusiasm, but learned that he expected to see a real rainbow and find real gold.  He built a leprechaun trap all by himself.

He added something green and some gold (pennies) to lure the little fellow in.  Then he strategically placed a bit of double-sided tape inside so that the leprechaun would get stuck. Granted, this concept already exists as a rat trap, but he doesn't know that so I was impressed with his original idea.

He decided the front walkway was the ideal location for trapping his victim.  As he put on his shoes he stated, "I'm going to catch me a leprechaun...(insert thoughtful pause and a shrug)...or a cat."  The trap was put down and he then used sidewalk chalk to draw arrows, a rainbow and a leprechaun friend as additional enticement.  

And then he went to bed.

Because they only come when you are sleeping.

I think they have a contract similar to S. Claus.

When morning came he discovered that a leprechaun had in fact been in our house.  The pesky fellow turned his oatmeal and milk green.  He also made us a green cake with rainbow frosting and some gold coin pancakes.  He entertained himself by turning our toilet water green and playing with Camden's toys (only the green ones).  He even worked his magic on Cam's lunch by replacing the lunch I packed with rainbow grilled cheese and some green foods like cucumbers and a green apple.

Upon checking the trap we discovered that he had at one point been caught, but escaped.  His wee little sock was stuck on the tape.  Camden pointed out that he must have "wiggled free and hopped back to Ireland on one foot!"

It was a fun day.  After a l-o-n-g winter, followed by the recent "monsoon of the Northeast" we very much appreciated taking the twins for a walk downtown for a corned beef dinner at our favorite little family restaurant.  Afterwards we came home and enjoyed some green cake with green milk.  

Honestly, I don't care if I know it's only food coloring...I still need to close my eyes to stomach swallowing green milk.

Cock a Doodle Doo

As most of you know, this was our most recent Christmas Card photo.  It's obviously staged, but the events are real.  Life with a 4 year old boy and two infants is chaotic.  As a teacher, I am constantly talking and putting on a show, so my time outside the house is hectic too.  I am not a night owl.  In fact, if it doesn't get done by noon, it just ain't getting done around here.  Therefore, I relish the early morning.

I actually love to get up early.  

Really early.

As in 4 am early.

I realize most of you just shuddered at that thought, but it's a magical time in my house.  I adore my family and love my job, but I am one of those people who needs to be alone at times.  And so 4-6 a.m. is my coffee / blog / scrapbooking / photo editing time.  

Except it seems that being an early bird is a genetic trait because my son also like to rise early.

He could easily be a rooster.  I love the kid, but at 4:30 a.m. he belongs in bed, not hanging out with me.  Yet it's becoming a trend.

The first night he pitter-pattered his way down the stairs he said it was because he "saw a light on."  So I began to work on my computer under the cover of darkness.

The next night he said, "I tiptoed into your room and saw daddy sleeping, but your spot was empty."  Score one for the kid having deductive reasoning skills, but boo-hiss on him crashing my private party.  

The next morning I set up a "fake mommy."  Much like a teenager sneaking out late at night, I rearranged my pillows under the blankets so that in a groggy glance it would appear I would be sleeping.  He stated that he didn't even go into my room because he "smelled coffee" so he knew I was downstairs. It's like living with Sherlock Holmes.

Since I prefer iced coffee anyhow, I brewed it the night before so that no Starbucks aromas would waft their way through the vents and up to his room while he was sleeping.  I was convinced that the fake pillow mommy and scent-free house would outsmart him, but alas he appeared in my darkened office doorway rubbing his groggy little eyes.  He said, "I didn't hear snoring so I knew you were downstairs."  

And that my friends is what we call adding insult to injury.

Happy weekend...regardless of what time you start your day!

Sock it To Me

The Boy was 13 months old when I had my first "OMG I'm somebody's mom" moment.  It was early morning and I was packing him a lunch for his first day at daycare.  Something about standing in my kitchen before sunrise cutting off crust and placing it into a little lunchbox made the role real.

Today I had one of those "OMG I'm a WORKING mom" moments.

I put on my make-up with one hand and holding a baby in the other.  I prayed that nobody spit-up on my clothes before I made it out the door.  I glanced at the clock 8 million times as I scurried to prepare three children for the day, get myself ready and let the Hubby know that he could either make himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich or else take his chances with something leftover he could find in the fridge.  I was 'almost' cleared for take-off when my eyes caught sight of the March calendar for my son's preschool.  It was then that I noticed that today was slated as being "crazy sock day."  This would not be a big deal if we owned crazy socks.  However, in an attempt to simplify life, he only owns white socks.  No matching. No fuss. Easy-Peasy.

And so I put down my coffee in it's to go cup, took off my coat and pulled out my glue gun.  In a flurry of ribbon-snipping, coloring and with only two burns on my finger we transformed a pair of plain white socks into crazy socks and I left for work noting the symbolism of just how "crazy" morning are in our house.

Do You Hear That?

It's silence.

It's me sipping a cup of coffee in a dimly lit kitchen while the soon-to-be chaos has yet to arrive.

It's me updating a blog that has been neglected.  It's me making a New Year's Resolution (...yes, on February 21st...) to blog regularly.  

I. MUST. BLOG. REGULARLY.

Though my intentions were good, I've slacked.

There is the obvious reason (or should I say reasons since there are 2 infants in the house), but there is also the fact that there was only so much to say.  What makes me think that my humble little life is worthy of publishing for the world to read?  Do I honestly think people in cyberspace care about the Boy's silly phrases or the fact that Miss A rolled over or Miss B slept through the night?  Not really.  

But, I am finding that while time is VERY limited and making the time to sit down and write about a normal day seems a bit self-centered, I need to do it.  It's all just happening too fast.  The girls are approaching 6 months next week.  The Boy is starting Kindergarten in the fall and I'm just sick over it all.  Time needs to slow down.  I feel like I can't take it all in and enjoy it.  

And so it has become important to me to return to the world of blogging.  Because there is just too much I want to remember.  So feel free to read along.  I can't promise edge-of-your-seat excitement, but I do promise to keep it real.  

Right now real life is crazy, busy, chaotic and oh-so-normal and mundane at the same time.  I'm really helping that documenting it this way helps to take it all in, appreciate each step and remember more than Christmas and the trips to Disney in the years to come.

And on that note, there are sounds coming through the baby monitor.  They are happy and cooing sounds.  If I act fast, I can steal some alone time with whichever twinkie has decided to rise first.  If I don't act fast it will escalate to cries which will wake the sister which will wake the brother who will demand his morning oatmeal which will make me gaze longingly across the kitchen at my unfinished cup of coffee that will remain untouched until 11 am when it is cold and gross, but I'll drink it anyhow because I'll be desperate for caffeine...and so it goes.

Real life!

A Different Kind of Vacation

Last night (well I guess it's actually still happening since it is not quite 5 am yet) the family went "on vacation."

The ladies and I had a "girl's night" in my room.

Hubby and the Boy went camping.

In our living room.

While he has his moments, overall the Boy rocks.  He's seriously a great little guy.  Time-outs have never been effective or really even needed, but positive reinforcements have always gone a LONG way.  Last summer we decided that since he is such a good kid we should focus on that.  We came up with "the smiley face chart."  The Boy picks a goal and works towards it by earning 20 smiley faces for being caught making great choices.  The deal is that it can't be a "thing," but instead an experience.

He's been out to lunch with daddy, to the moonbounce place, an indoor play area, etc.  The most recent goal was "a campout in the living room with daddy."  So fun!

He was over-the-top excited last night to set up camp.  This involved dragging in a mattress from the guest room for Hubby and piling up a bunch of comforters on the floor for him.  He watched with wide-eyed excitement as the s'mores heated up in the toaster oven.  He babbled on and on about the movies they were going to watch, the books they were going to read and how much fun they were going to have.  He insisted that he and Hubby wear their matching glow-in-the-dark skeleton pjs.  He delighted in the fact that "Mommy has to watch the babies" (this came in the form of a chant interrupted only by his little voice saying, 'c'mon say it with me daddy').  He was giddy at the simple realization that he would be using the downstairs bathroom if he needed to go and that when he woke up he would only need to take a few steps to get to breakfast.

I guarantee he will remember that night more than any of the real vacations he's been on.

Priceless.

ahhh...choooo

Sure is dusty in here.  Yes, I realize it has been a while since I have offered a glimpse into our life.  Since I have included this web address in our holiday cards I figured I had better stop by and spruce up the place for the arrival of some guests.  You never know who will be dropping in.

Off to find some flattering photos of myself (gotta love digital cameras and photoshop) and think up a few witty tales to share.  Stay tuned...

Turkey Day

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to celebrate Thanksgiving at Martha Stewart's house?  I don't.  Because I know.  

We went to my sister's this year and for what it's worth she totally trumps Martha.  

She bakes the bread that becomes the stuffing.  Her house is painted in colors that compliment the Thanksgiving decor.  I'm surprised that she does not have a cranberry bog in her back yard to yield the sauce.  Check out all the fun details:

It's purty isn't it?

A good time was had by all.  

Especially the Boy who loves going to Auntie's house because "it just keeps going and going and there are no walls." Translation: "Her open floor plan allows me to sprint indoors at top speed."  

My niece R was on nanny duty.  She wanted to hold a baby at all times which was fine by me because that left my hands free to gobble up the yummy foods and snap some pictures.

We hosted last year for the first and probably only time.  We don't quite rock the Thanksgiving Feast quite like they do.  It was all I could do to add the right amount of water to the Stove Top.  Kudos to to my sister and BIL for a delightful holiday.

Hey look, I've worn this before.

Dad in his glory: coupons and coffee.  If ever a picture told a story it would be this one.

My oh-so-politically-correct-baby!