That's how often Bub says that I should check on him to replace kicked off covers: every minute of the night.
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Taking the title for "Loudest on the Block", the Wrona monkeys enjoyed this fair evening. Scaring away all neighbors and silencing even the yapping dogs, we got wet, sandy and dirty.
And made some interesting fashion statements. I just buy the clothes. How they are paired, or re-matched by 7 PM, is not my say so.
Today was all about getting to Davis Farmland and cooling off at the splash pad!
Cubby had a good lunch, looking like an old timey Bandit.
Bub played the Hat-full-of-water game and got to collect eggs!
Cubby's little friend met us there and the boys all got to pet lots of cute critters.
And a tuckered out baby snoozed away the rest of the day.
Not safe! I grant you, no baby preparedness class is going to tell you to have your young child within 18" of a hot stove top. But how else does one put dinner on the table?
I feel kind of proud. Is that the right word? Maybe, "risqué". And that is as close to risqué as I'm getting most days as the Mama of two young boys.
The meals are most often heated instead of cooked, but everybody eats, three squares and umpteen snacks a day. Once or twice a week, I serve something an adult might order in a restaurant. Not a nice restaurant. And if I can bake something delicious once a fortnight, something that makes my husband look at me with the loving eyes of our single days, I will take it.
I think proud is the right word. I'm a champ of the one-handed meal prep. Food Network should have me host a show.
If you are the Mama of a toddler, you do everything fast.
Here's your "how to" for a lakeside picnic with a one-year-old.
Stuff food, drink, diapers, blanket into your purse because you've given up on the heavy diaper bag after a year.
Grab squirming, pushing nap time baby and schlep it to the closest sort of scenic spot near the lake.
With one hand holding baby, attempt to spread blanket.
Sit and nurse baby while you cram salad down your gullet. This buys you 5 minutes.
Try to absorb the blue sky and summer breeze.
Spend 3 more minutes trying to tempt toddler to stay near blanket, bribing him with Cheez-its while you eat the most filling remnants of salad.
Give up and chase toddler, repeatedly rescuing him from diving into lake.
Give up and wrestle a diaper change. Ignore the irritated glares of other picnic-ers who don't have sympathy for the mommy Olympics you're competing in.
Take a deep breath. That's all you, Mamas!
Heft baby onto your hip and gracelessly grab at your scattered possessions and lumber back to the car.
Was that 15 minutes? That constitutes your Relaxation for the day.
Telling people that you're headed away on vacation often elicits feelings of jealousy. They envision leaving behind the cares and troubles of day to day life and enjoying some much needed rest and indulgences.
Errr, let me be clear. My kids are with me on this vacation, so let's call it something else.
You slapped a delicious, crusty, powdered, first-of-the-season fried dough to the pavement before I had even a taste.
Cute can't fix this. You're going to rue that choice when you're an embarrassed teenager and I kiss you as I dropped you off at school every day in my pajamas.
Gestation, birth and the first year of life are serious mind sucks. I figure, I lost half my mental capacity with the first son and then half of what was left with the second. That leaves me, on a good day + coffee, firing on 25 percent brain power.
I'm not a surgeon or driving heavy machinery so one might assume that as a stay-at-home-mom I'm fine with my depleted mental capacity. Well, today I couldn't think of the word "closet". I'm in trouble. My scolding is slipping, too!
YOU'RE, YOU HAD BETTER.... JUST STOP IT... YOUR BROTHER, NO!!
It just lacks that authoritative tone that really grabs a kids attention and let's them know you're in command of the situation. Because you sound like a drooling idiot. Who might just fall asleep mid-scolding.
The inmates are officially running the asylum.