The bully

I like to think I am raising boys who are compassionate, non-violent and kind. I know this is a bit of an uphill battle in a home where testosterone is the ruling party, but I try. Hitting isn't tolerated, there are no (purchased) guns, and physical aggression buys you a trip to your room.

So I was a little bummed to hear that Leo is becoming a bit of a jerk. He has started taking toys from the other babies, followed by a quick shove to the ground.

Lovely.

So, this weekend, I started watching things around here (he couldn't possibly have learned this HERE?!?). Well, the big brothers grab stuff from his hot little hands all the time. Now, usually it's their stuff, and its usually something he shouldn't have it in the first place, but that nuance isn't really penetrating the gray matter of the 15-monther.

Also, given that he is a huge climber, I am physically moving him all the time. Off the table. Off a chair he's standing on. Off my bathroom counter. Out of the dog dishes. Out of his brother's clothes drawers. Basically, we manhandle him all the time here. But always in the name of good child rearing, right?

So the next time I have to removed the pencil-sharpener from his mouth as he is sitting on my desk, I am supposed to display "gentle hands" and then ask him nicely to return to the floor? Because, really, snatching it away and shoving him might be more appropriate at times.

I guess I have found the enemy, and it is me...

Funniest thing I've seen in a while...

Anyone over the age of 55 might not think it's quite as entertaining as I do... but I can't help myself.

Little bit of levity

Go ahead and ask my husband... I've been a little crabby recently. He actually asked me the other day, as I was spouting off about some frustration "You didn't rip anyone's face off, did ya?"

Nice.

There are a variety of factors involved here. One, I have been working almost exclusively shifts that end between 1 and 3am. I can take those shifts here and there, but to have that be the exclusive order of the day for the last 3 weeks... it gets a little old. Two, the flu-mania at our daycare has me fielding phone calls nearly everyday about our kids' health. I got the "Calvin has a cough and a temp of 99.8" the other day. And...? Then Leo has been sent home two time in as many weeks for a goopy eye (which require drops that medically I know are worthless), and once because his breathing "just doesn't sound right." One or another kid was home 4 of the 5 days last week (remember that working till 2am thing...).

So, I'm a little crispy around the edges.

Today, I have the coveted day off (after working until 2am), with no kids. I am so excited to FINALLY go get some christmas stuff done. Here's a little piece of info for all of you out there - if you don't have your Christmas decorations already in your home, you are out of luck. Every Target in town is OUT of christmas tree lights. And there aren't anymore coming. Costco? Nope. Home Depot? All gone. When I found the one endcap at Menard's that still had strings of 100, I looked like the fat kid in the all-you-can-eat candy store.

And then, the comic relief. I turn around and all I see is bare bottom. Thankfully, it is 18mo bare bottom. This poor mother is trying to keep pants and pull-ups on her son who clearly wants to be a nudist. He thinks this is great fun. She pulls 'em up, he pulls 'em down. He doesn't understand her preoccupation with keeping him clad. It was exactly what I needed.

So, I am now trying to shed the weight of the daily ups and downs, decorate the tree tonight with my kids and a smile. A little football curled up on the couch with my hubby later, and a good book to bed. Then tomorrow, I will work until 3am...

Momma special

Can anyone give me a good explanation of the behavior of my children? Let me map this out for you..

For the hour and half that Omar let me sleep in, the boys apparently were happy, pleased to play with each other, and padded around the house while Omar did the crossword puzzle and drank coffee.

I wake up, and the place completely falls apart. No one is satisfied with self-directed behavior that had previously been perfectly acceptable. Everyone is trying to be the center of my attention. I get coffee spilled all over my attempt at a morning wake-up because of all the bodies that are slithering all over my personal space.

The whining, which has, by Omar's report, been ABSENT for the entire morning, is now seeping from every child in a pitch that pierces my spinal cord. When asked to please stop this hideous display (like I asked 239583 times the day before, and the day before that, and the day before that), everyone under the age of 6 looses any signs of a skeletal system. I am now on day 4 of wanting to kill my kids. And it only took 3.4 seconds.

How did mother nature let this happen? I have talked with other moms and they all have noted the same problem. How did the human species every survive this anti-Survival-of-the-Fittest adaptation. Make no mistake about it - I am the one most likely to end their battle to pass on genetic material in the upcoming years.

So, Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I look forward to the 9 days we all have off together at Christmas time...

Belated Halloween

Since I never got around to it last month, here is what Oct 31st looked like around these parts.

Punk Werewolf

Leo Puppy

Mike Wazowski

Max, the white ninja (who thought that was stealthy?) with Mom and Dad Mexican wrestlers

The Neighboorhood Crew

And what would Halloween be without the creepy neighbor guy. Thanks for covering that one, Nathan!

Breakfast conversation

While eating their shredding wheat and oatmeal....

Max: Hey mom, can you buy us some Fruity Pebbles?
Me: Ah yes... Fruity Pebbles... You mean sugar bombs?
Max: They are really good.
Me: I know they are. I loved those things when I was a kid. I didn't know you had ever had them.
Spencer: (Hardly intelligible through the mouth full of oatmeal) Can we get those things that Max just said?
Me: What?
Spencer: I want those Sugar Bombs cereals.

Who wouldn't....

Night shift

Yet another day in the crazy life I lead.

Now, of course, when I say "day" that doesn't always mean day. This time around my day started at 7:30am yesterday, took a little siesta from 12-2pm, and came back to life with shocking clarity with a ring on my cell phone telling me to come get Leo AGAIN from daycare (last week, it was the pre-night-shift "he had a loose stool and his armpit temp is 99.2. He has to stay home for 24 hours). This time it was "Leo has a goopy eye and needs to be pickup up within half an hour... and he has to stay home for 24 hours." (The insanity caused by H1N1 is so completely off the map I have trouble seeing straight. A temp of 99.2?? Otherwise known as "normal." Oh, and in case you wondered, my MD opinion is worth roughly a hill of beans).

For the love of all that is holy! Do these people have a copy of my schedule?!? The two night shifts I have had this month, and I am toting around a 14-monther on both the pre- and post- days??

So, I get the kid. We get groceries, get the brothers, play at the park, make dinner, eat dinner and then spend a few quality minutes of Monday Night Football with the hubby. Then, it's into the shower at 10pm, off to work at 10:30pm and picking up the first patient at 11pm. I was re-released into the wild at 7:15am. Given the fact that a) the power leaf-blowers were coming to my yard, b) I had a baby at home, and c) Max had a late start and wasn't on the bus until 11am, I did what any good mother would do.

I didn't go home.

I instead went straight to my in-laws' (Thanks Dorit and Naseem!) and crashed for 6 glorious hours of sleep with a fleece earwarmer wrapped over my eyes. We instead paid to have daycare AND a babysitter. Who doesn't love THAT price tag?

Keep drinking the beer, people. Our family's sanity depends on you!