ONE talks a lot about school. There is a little boy who gets in trouble for picking his nose, calling people “stupid” and not listening. Thankfully, this little boy does not belong to me. 

Today, we had this conversation:

ONE: Mommy? There is a little girl in my class who always tells me “NO.”

Me: What do you mean she tells you “NO?”

ONE: She tells me no. Like when I want to play with a puzzle, she says no. Or a dinosaur. She tells me no.

Me: Is she telling you no because it’s something she is already playing with? Are you trying to take toys away from her?

ONE: No. Nobody is playing with the toys, they are on the shelf. She just tells me no, all the time, and it’s driving me cuckoo, Mommy, it really is.

Me: Is this little girl the boss?

ONE: No.

Me: Who is the boss when you’re at school?

ONE: The teacher is.

Me: Okay then. It’s good for you to learn how to deal with different kinds of kids, ONE. You know why? 

ONE: (staring)

Me: Because when you grow up like Mommy and Daddy you’ll have to deal with difficult people. This is your first lesson. You might as well learn now while you’re four. 

I think I have done enough for today.

The letter B.

ONE will start preschool two weeks from today. I have been looking forward to this day for months, yet now that it’s nearly here I find myself getting weepy. 

I’m sure I’ll get over it.

Preschool will be every day. And when it ends, the next step will be kindergarten. And then first grade. From here on out, my oldest will be in school on school days and I’m not sure how I feel about it. 

For now, I’m trying to enjoy the last few days with him before his world is irrevocably expanded. We’re finger painting. We’re baking. We’re reading all of the tags on his stuffed animals to see where they were made. We’re watching the video of his grandpa, my dad, hula hooping at a birthday party last week … over and over and over again.

We’re nothing if not well-rounded.

Disclaimer: I’m writing this on cold medicine, but I don’t think I have a cold. I don’t know what I have, aside from two whining children.

I’m tired of whining children.

ONE was starting to get somewhat better when TWO developed a fever. That’s around the same time I started feeling like ass. The really cruddy thing about family illness is the length of time it takes for it to make the rounds and leave the house.

This morning, I took action. I changed all of the hand towels and had just finished disinfecting the entire house with Clorox wipes when ONE wiped his nose on the couch. And then TWO sneezed in my face. 

Clearly my efforts are in vain. 

I still love my Clorox.

It’s dangerous to assume the following:

1. Your kid “knows better.”

2. Your kid “would never do” X, Y, or Z.

3. Your kid is asleep.

Yesterday was a very nice, lazy day. None of us got out of our p.j.’s. No one got spanked or even went to time out. We all just cuddled in the living room in front of the TV. I NEVER do that, but I didn’t feel great so I decided to take it easy.

At bedtime, all hell broke loose. TWO started crying. I tried everything. Finally, I stuck him in his swing, kissed his little head and told him I was sorry, but I had to put his big brother to bed now, and I would be back. He responded by screaming loudly.

I took ONE upstairs and read The Cat In The Hat Comes Back before tucking him in. I’d like to state here that I used to love Dr. Seuss, before I had children and actually had to read his works aloud. Now I loathe him. Loathe. 

During the whole bedtime routine, TWO screamed downstairs. I ignored it. I took my time with ONE. I hugged and kissed and listened to him talk about his day. When it was time for me to go, he fell apart. This happens every night, so I steeled my will, and left him to scream in his doorway. Now I had two screaming children in my house. Awesome.

It took me forever to calm down TWO, who had worked himself into hysterics. After awhile, the house quieted. TWO was asleep in my arms, and I assumed ONE was asleep as well. So I did what made sense. I turned on Project Runway.  

An hour later, my worst germ-related nightmare came true. I heard a crash and went up to check on ONE. I found him naked except for his diaper and he was absolutely caked with poo. He had used his own poop to paint the carpet, the double-lined Pottery Barn curtains, the chair that my dad covered with custom fabric, and his lamp. When he heard me coming, he jumped into his bed, so obviously it was all over THAT as well.

I have never in my life been more grossed out or outright FURIOUS. I had to bathe him immediately, and of course at this exact moment TWO woke up because it was time for him to eat. I felt like my head might explode. I felt like just walking out the door and sitting in the driveway until Husband came home. It was 8:30 p.m. and it had been a long ass day. Now I had one kid crying from hunger and another kid crying because he was sitting in “poo water.”

I am a praying person, but since I had TWO I have begun to pray almost constantly. Having another child has been wonderful for my relationship with God. I don’t discuss it much here, but without the help of the Good Lord I would be up shit creek.

No pun intended. 

Today it is building my character to be nice to my older son, who I am still mad at. I will be doing laundry for a very long time. I have to iron every one of those f#cking curtains after I wash and hang dry them. I am pissed. But … but. I have to keep reminding myself that this life we are living isn’t easy. No one said it would be. One day I’ll look back on this and laugh …

Right??

ONE just found a bunch of feminine products and mistook them for treats. As in candy. 

He threw a FIT because I took them away before he could open, and presumably eat, all of them. Never in my wildest dreams would it have occurred to me that while being at home with my boys, I would have the following conversation:

Me: Give me those, ONE. Those aren’t for you.

ONE: No! They’re MINE. MY TREATS.

Me: No … they aren’t treats. And they aren’t yours.

ONE: (throws a fit)

Me: Here, let me show you. See? Open it up. It’s not candy.

ONE: What is it?

Me: A tampon. 

ONE: What it do? 

Me: I’ll explain it to you when you’re older.

After I opened it to prove it wasn’t edible, I figured nothing was wrong with letting him have it. As I write this, he is wearing the cardboard part of said tampon as a mustache. So to the people who ask me, “aren’t you bored being at home all day?” THIS IS WHY THE ANSWER IS NO.

I find that I can get more done in 15 minutes in my car than I can all day inside my house. I can pay bills, make phone calls, write out lists, organize coupons (HATE), and most importantly, primp in natural sunlight.

I sat in a parking lot this morning with my children in the backseat waiting for me to finish a bad job of plucking my eyebrows. ONE asked me when we were going to get out.

Me: We’ll get out as soon as I get myself together.

ONE: Oh.

ONE: (five seconds later) Are you together yet?

Me: No. 

ONE: Mommy? 

Me: Yes?

ONE: How do I look?

Me: You look fine.

(silence)

Me: How do I look?

ONE: Ummm … not so great. 

They say not to, but I put TWO on his tummy to sleep. Why? Because I am desperate. That’s why.

 

Sort of like how I have thrown most of my parenting standards out the window for the time being.

I think the word “smug” perfectly describes my former, one-child self. So I plan to continue using it.

I never understood women who allowed themselves to go without showering or basic hygiene because they were too busy with their children. I never got why some moms looked like train wrecks all the time. Did they just not care anymore? Is that what happens once you become mommyfied? It seemed to me a horrible mystery that I didn’t care to solve. It was actually one of my very worst fears after having ONE that I would become permanently wrecked and incapable of doing simple tasks like shaving my armpits. 

As it turned out, I did manage to uphold a low standard of decency … but only because I had one kid. I showered and primped while he slept. I SLEPT when he slept. It wasn’t that bad, really. I didn’t see what all the fuss was about. I stupidly assumed I could handle a second child without too much of a problem and here I am now, with two kids, drowning.

On a related note, I secured birth control yesterday. But I’m not sure if “99% effective” is quite effective enough for my liking. Quite frankly, the mere thought of the possibility of having another child at this point HORRIFIES me. Husband just may be out of luck.

You may be wondering how it is that I find the time to blog about how I never have time to do a damn thing. You see, writing about how my kids may be conspiring to kill me makes me feel much more sane. So I am happy to let one of them scream furiously for a few minutes while I do this. It’s either that, or someone gets locked outside.

Getting out of the house is the only reason why I haven’t thrown in the towel yet on this mom thing.

Here you can see TWO sleeping peacefully while ONE screams crazy talk at me. Had we been indoors … well … it would have sucked.

Yesterday, I sat in a park holding TWO and watching ONE play in the sandbox and wondered to myself if I am going to become one of those women who only talk about their kids.

As beautiful and wonderful as they are, I hope that is not what I am headed toward. Really. I have so many other things to discuss. Pretty much every time I go in public something happens that makes me think to myself, this needs to be on the internet. Like yesterday, while at said park, a stranger mom confessed to me that she had suffered a panic attack just the day before. She didn’t even buy me dinner first. She just jumped right in.

Although … and here I am going to do it again, talk about boring mommy stuff … my Ergo carrier was delivered yesterday, and the level of excitement I felt when I took it out of the box was a defining moment. I was more excited to get that package than I was to receive my last order from Sephora. And that is saying a LOT.

I can’t wait for TWO to wake up so I can put him in our new fancy carrier, and he can scream, and I can hate myself for spending so much money on something I hoped would make my life easier. I will keep you all posted. I know you are on the edge of your seats.