Wrestle Mania

And so it begins...

It's a whole bunch of fun until you get sat on. Looks like Noah won this match!

The Switch

Proof!

A few nights ago our boys started sharing a room. And it went off without a hitch. And then night two came along, ugh...but they have surprised us with how well they do go down. Lights may go on and off, we may hear a bit of giggling, and some screaming, but for the most part night time is no different than usual. Yay!

Mornings are a different story. We are working on that one because no one in this household (Kelly and I) want to wake up at five. And who want's grumpy kids all day because they haven't slept? No me!

Bringing chubby back...

Oh how I love those chubby legs. Sorry Luke couldn't resist the photo op.

Super chub!

A stinky post

So there comes a time in a parenting adventure where you begin to question whether or not this was something you had ever signed up for. That time for us is right now. We never imagined that our lives would be consumed with trying to get Noah to stop smearing his poop around our house. Why you might ask? Good question. Now I realize he is three and I should have been potty training him a while ago but I have waited. Mostly because I am petrified to do it. And this is the reason. I am not at all good with poop. If it's in the toiled fine. If its, ALL OVER MY HOUSE. Not okay.

Basically this is how it all plays out. Noah goes off somewhere out of sight. Usually at a fine time like me eating lunch. As I begin to wonder what he is doing he comes over, places his sweet hand, full of poop, on my arm and says 'Mama, poop.' Well I am sure that you can imagine my reaction. I had no idea that my voice could reach such high decibels. Then proceeds a long process of washing Noah up, cleaning Luke up if he happens to be in the way, cleaning the carpet/bedspread/couch/floor etc. where the poop happens to be. Then I sit in a corner crying. If I could bring myself to drink at 11 in the morning I am sure I would.

So what smart thing are we doing to prevent it? Well like any smart parent would we are forcing our child to wear 24 month onesies (there is no 3T onesie out there, we looked) with shorts and a belt on. If he can't get to it then there is no poop problem right? So if you see my child out and around town walking funny it's because we are making him wear his brother's onesies until he discovers that poop is gross. That is going to be a long, long time.

Oh and by the way when your child starts saying, Luke and eat, in the same sentence when there is poop about the house its best to ignore what he is saying. Because if I let myself go there I might need to be committed.

Blogging

Hmph. Is that even a word? I am no longer a good blogger, heck I was never even a great blogger. I just don't do it. And quite honestly I don't read blogs anymore. I should clarify I don't read blogs of people I don't know anymore. I used to have a long list on my google reader of craft blogs, cool people blogs, people who I will never meet but think their life is amazing type blogs. And I deleted. them. all. Starting afresh maybe? Not really, just really, really tired of reading blogs about people I don't know and feeling like how great their lives were compared to mine.

You know I have the stay at home mom with two busy boys who like things like toilets, cars and dirt kind of life. Not that I am throwing myself a pity party over it. Oh my no. I am extremely blessed. I just didn't need to be reading random people's blogs that ended with me going, oh if only... Honestly I don't need if only's or thoughts that I can be more amazing if I just blogged about how amazing I am.

So I have been thinking about blogging and whether I will continue with it or not. And after a long hiatus, a slight change to the blog layout, I am back. But with a different idea on why I blog.

It is to preserve a memory.

To write about our current events before they become a distant thought. And eventually I hope my kids will want to read what was happening in our lives circa early 2000's. To hear that they were in the 90th percentile their whole infant lives. That we owned a crazy dog for three months before returning him. To know how we struggled with things like sleeping and eating and pooping (you not us).

So hi ho, hi ho, it's back to blogging I go.

Heidi