new low

i've hit an all new low. so i have been in allergy hell, followed by what i think is a sinus infection and what feels like a bass drum living inside my head and a nose that does no nosing. nothing in. nothing out. just stuffed. at all times. making sleep near impossible (or impossible if you don't speak spanish). all of this rolls into a not neat and not tidy package of not nice me. it's too hard to be nice right now. i'm just working on breathing. let me breathe. then i'll get to nice. additionally, my sweet sweeties have funky ears (well, only one ear is funky. the same ear on each kid. coincidence.). this makes them funky. who are these kids? they're the runny nose babies of yesteryear. they're whiny. they're grumpy. they freak out over the smallest thing. there is no winning with these two. and i get it. i mean, they're two. they probably hurt. and what else can i expect? right now i'm just thanking God that this behavior is not a normal occurrence. what if it was like this everyday? when they felt well? needless to say, we are a house of grumpy. and we're totally trapped in the house of grumpy. which just makes everyone grumpier. but today i reached a new low. and this is how i know my grumpiness is affecting R and C. i went out last night and got some new color wonder paper (btw, thank you crayola for this), knowing we all have cabin fever and will need something new and exciting in our lives. i selected one diego and one dora. the dora one is about some stupid snow princess that needed to be saved but whatev. it's all they had. i'm flipping through it, trying to make up a story, even though i know nothing of the snow princess, when i come to the page with the witch. and C points to the witch and says "mommy!" uh oh. what do you mean "mommy?" did you not just see the page prior with the youthful, beautiful snow princess? that youthful, beautiful snow princess doesn't remind you of mommy? the witch reminds you of mommy? i'd even take dora over the witch. so my slippery slope is slipping. and i better shape up. (i better understand. to their hearts i must be true). (thank you for singing along). first someone thought i looked like one of the bratz. then C or R (how can i not remember which one because whoever it was is totally my favorite) saw a picture of penelope cruz in a magazine and declared "mommy!" and now. i'm a witch. the dora witch does have long flowing hair. but she also rides on a broomstick. and was making a mean face. and is evil. she's not the good witch. if they watched the wizard of oz, i'm pretty sure which witch i would be. and not just because of a love for shoes. i've got some work to do.

you can't really see dora's witch in this picture but trust me. she's no penelope.

cute as american pie

"she looks like tara reid." ok. i'm usually prepared for stranger's comments on my kiddos. i thought i had heard it all. some are stupid. some are clueless. some have some random twin association stories. most are just well-intentioned. nice. etcetera. etcetera. but "she looks like tara reid?" really? i mean, even if she does, should you say that? out loud? to her mother? like tara reid from the "american pie" days? (ok kind of sweet. innocent.) or like tara reid from E's terrible "wild on tara" television showtastrophe? (alcoholic set loose to binge drink and slut it up through random cities. not. that. innocent.). (thank you if you're singing britney right now). or is it the drug addicted anorexic tara reid? i was not prepared for a tara reid comparison to my precious two-year-old daughter. i mean is she headed to bret michael's rock of love tour bus, season 28, or what? i just half smiled. "oh yeah." oh no. a simple "she's cute." would do. it will always do. when in doubt, just say they're cute. and, don't compare them to some trashy (yet, once pretty) reality rehab skank. ok?

which one?

nobody puts baby in the corner

actually i want to put baby in the corner. and i am putting baby in the corner. and it's not exactly working. my baby is a 2-year-old toddler and the corner is the ever-so-famous time-out. how do you make a babytoddler stay in a corner? i'm not sure. someone tell me. i end up sitting there with them which seems wrong. i'm just trying to do my job here, people. no one listens to me. ever. ok, sometimes. but it seems like it's not when i really really need them to listen. like when i need someone to hold my hand in a parking lot. is this unreasonable? there are cars. moving cars. that can't see a 2-foot-tall-2-year-old. so you either walk, holding my hand. or you get carried. that's not a bad choice. will someone carry me if i don't want to hold hands? instead. we'll put all of our lives in danger trying to get to the car whilst "holding" a kicking/flailing/screaming/26-pounder. awesome. at least we made it out of the restaurant in peace. which is a gigantic gift for which i thank the Lord above on every occasion on which this happens. seriously. i would get down on my knees and pray but i have two small people running like the wind through a crowded, busy parking lot. in the dark. i've been a delinquent blog poster. i've been slacking. and would you like to know why? because, for example, in the last week i have found one toddler mid-crib-escape and one toddler with a tambourine-head injury. the crib escape was self-interrupted when she was half-way gone. or half-way home. either way. she hoisted one of her little legs up and over the crib rail. perched right there on top. one leg on either side. and she either couldn't decide on a direction for dismount or was too freaked out to decide. so she sat there, using some serious inner-thigh muscle strength, with just enough energy left to shout "STUCK." ok, she's stuck. and she was so scared. i rescued. explained the cozy comfort and safety and security of her crib. and why would she ever try to leave that. and she agreed. yes, she did. needed a hug. i thought she was so freaked, surely she wouldn't repeat. until five hours later when it was nap time. and the crib was turned around so the short rail is now against the wall. oh, i'm sorry, both cribs were turned around so the short rail is now against the wall. because you know C, while admiring the sweet embrace of the rescue, started hoisting his little leg up on his rail too. copycat. i'm patting myself on the back for this one. even though i'm nervous about a jinx. but that day (that day!) they returned to a normal nap, even after the hoopla and have been sleeping peacefully ever since. don't take this away from me evil universe! i'll never pat myself on the back again, i swear! so now on to the tambourine head-injury. which occurred at school. without my knowledge or witness. so i really don't know what happened. except when i picked C up his head had two red blotches and it looked like he had been through something. tambourine. not what i expected. the little guy put the tambourine on his head. good idea, right? everyone loves a tambourine on the head! but not when it stays there. and won't come off. it's a great party trick. when you've had too much boone's farm strawberry hill. not in pre-pre-school (everyone sober) (i think) (i hope). if he did this when he was just a little older, he would totally be called "mr. tambourine man." the tambourine was so secure on his noggin, lotion was involved in the removal and tears. i can't fault the teachers. who would expect a tambourine on the head? not even i. i'm fairly certain he has recovered fully. we've been talking about it all day. processing.
tomorrow i'm going to climb out of the crib (have to get in there first) while wearing a tambourine on my head in an attempt to land myself in time-out (read: baby in corner). i'll let you know how it goes.