Twenty-five ways to annoy a 4.5-year old...

1. Describe their age as a whole number.
2. Do not allow them to attend elementary school, but force them to go to preschool with all of the other 4.5-year olds.
3. Brush their hair.
4. Don't brush their hair.
5. Say mean things to them, like you need to wear shoes outside in the snow, or, no, you cannot have chewable Advil for a snack.
6. Insist that they put their butt in a chair for longer than 26 seconds.
7. Tell them that you moved the laundry from the washer to the dryer and then turned the dryer on all without their supervision/assistance.
8. Ask them to pick up a toy.
9. Give birth to children prior to their birth.
10. Don't help them get dressed.
11. Help them get dressed.
12. Use your phone to have a conversation longer than 2 minutes without explaining to them who is on the other end and why.
13. Hang up without letting them talk to that person, regardless of who that person is.
14. Order pizza with pepperoni.
15. Order pizza without pepperoni.
16. Punish them for picking the bunny up by the ears.
17. Crack an egg and stir it without their help/supervision.
18. Refuse to put all of the remaining Band-aids in the box on the doll they just threw down the stairs.
19. Help them buckle their seat-belt.
20. Don't help them buckle their seat-belt.
21. Neglect to give them their second after-school-pre-pre-dinner-snack.
22. Buy fruit chews that are only in the shape of "boring fruit."
23. Inquire as to what fruits they consider to be engaging and/or entertaining.
24. Store the chips where they cannot reach them without assistance, because it interferes with their ability to sneak chips from the pantry.
25. Don't allow them to eat their chocolate milk from a bowl with a spoon.

Things I have heard today...

Sooooooo Sydney is home from school today because of an incident that occurred last night, which I will get into later.  I'm struggling to get work done with her here, and the background chatter is borderline amazing...sort of like a cross between what you might overhear in a crackhouse or an old folks home:

• Look at me!  I have yogurt braces!
• Relax!  I only picked one side of my nose.
• I'm still hungry.
• Uh, excuse me, I need another snack.
• Why does it smell bad in here?  Did I fart?
• I want to do some fruits.
• Let it Go!  Let it Go!  Let it Go!  Let it Go!  Let it Go!
• Did you fart?
• Is a burp a fart that comes from your mouth?
• What comes after 20?
• Can we make "lime-lade?"
• Maybe the bunny is farting.
• When do we get to meet Katy Perry?
• I ate all of the "Vanilla Wipers."  They're all gone.
• HERE I STAND!  LET IT GO!  LET IT GO!  HERE I STAND!
• I miss the dog.

Welcome to my uterus

So a popular question, now that Sydney is nearing the four-years-without-a-murder age, seems to be "Are you going to have another one?" It's extremely difficult to resist remarking that there can really only be ONE Satan.

As much as I love these two children, I feel like they successfully utilize all of my patience and physical ability to withstand "sturbis" tickling while I'm trying to issue serious parental edicts.  I've been advised to take all sorts of precautions, but unfortunately for me (and everyone who comes into contact with me on a regular basis), any hormone-related methods turn me into a velociraptor.

So here I am with ONLY TWO KIDS, and an unsuppressible urge to over-share.  I know that no one ever wants to hear about how horrible it is to have a uterus...so allow me to TIE YOU TO A CHAIR AND EXPLAIN.

Sometimes it makes you:

• Feel that, despite physical evidence to the contrary, you weigh 400-ish lbs.
• Feel like you cannot possibly cram enough calories into your body.
• Unintentionally cry on the phone, WITH YOUR BOSS.
• Feel that you could definitely beat the living tar out of Erin Andrews (and probably should, in order to save anyone with ears from listening to her speak).
• Entertain every sad thought you've ever had. (Remember those dogs you had that died?  HOW ABOUT YOUR GRANDMOTHER?)
• Yearn for pet ducks.  Or maybe guinea pigs.  Or a bunny.  BUNNEHS!
• Convince yourself that the weird cramping sensations that you've experienced approximately 246 times in your life probably mean that you're experiencing an ectopic pregnancy...oh GOD.
• Feel sorry for Solange Knowles because her big sister convinced the world that she actually grew a baby in her own uterus.
• Feel sorry for yourself for being a conspiracy theorist.
• Mentally calculate how much money you've spent on heating pads, tampons, Advil, replacement underwear, Gatorade and pregnancy tests.  Probably millions.

Grrrr Atttitude Problem

You know you have kids when you are grateful...

• that when you sat down on the downstairs toilet there wasn't any stray splatter on the seat.
• that you don't have to feed the dogs because no one finished their dinner.
• that the diaper that got washed with everyone's clothes only was wet, not muddy.
• that they serve beer at Chuck E Cheese's.
• that you got the leather interior in your car, which conveniently resists chewing gum and melted fruit snacks.
• that you have a proven track record of patience and wisdom enabling you to deal with the difficult...people at work.
• that you got sick on the weekend and not during the week.
• that they deliver pizza.

Exile in Guyville

It's been forever.  I know.  I KNOW!  The past year has been a doozy, for lots of reasons, and I honestly didn't think that sharing them would be productive or healthy, or, in some cases, entirely legal.

Now, however, I am feeling the pull of a beautiful spring about to spring (albeit LATE) and I'm trying to breathe some life into my poor, dry, brittle blog.

I'm the kind of person who enjoys being excited...for our purposes, I mean this in a PG way.  My children have both inherited this trait...you can see it in the flapping of their baby bird wings whenever something has the prospect of being exciting; a new movie to watch, baby birds in the birdhouse, having lunch out in the backyard, EASTER CANDY!

It usually makes me so happy to write about my family, my life, and the things that made me laugh, but it became a struggle to find things that I was enthusiastic about there for awhile.  Life can be draining, and even someone who considers themselves to be an optimist is not immune from what Dan and I have started to call "Lifesuck."

Lifesuck can be a literal emotion (life is sucking), a noun (much like the tide, the Lifesuck makes you want to stay in bed, or shave your head a la Britney Spears), or a verb (this four-hour parent-teacher conference LIFESUCKS.).

We've come up with several ways to combat the dreaded Lifesuck, and here is what we have so far:

• Bourbon!
• Bad Jokes (What did Jay-Z call his girlfriend before they got married? ...Feyoncè!)
• Exercise (you've got to run, run like the wind, to be free again)
• Bourbon!
• Baking cookies
• Good books
• Bad books
• Bourbon!
• Date nights
• Kissing sleeping children
• Hugs from my parents
• Crying in the shower (environmentally friendly in that you don't need tissues!)
• Looking at pictures of bunnies on the internet

Please feel free to add to this list.  It's a living document that I'm sure we will rely on for the next 14 years or so.

5 for 5

I've noticed lately that parenting a boy (and sometimes a husband) really only requires the same five words, just using five different inflections.  Ahem:

• Why did you do THAT? (followed by laughing and pointing)
• Why did you do that? (said with hushed shock and awe, then usually "show me!")
• WHY did you do that? (accompanied by fear and anxiety, and usually some sort of detangling or rescuing)
• WHY DID YOU DO THAT?  (demonstrably angry, in the middle of cleaning poop out of the tub or vacuuming up 10 lbs of loose sand throughout my house)
• Why did you do that?  (genuinely curious as to what thought processes might, but probably didn't, occur as he chose to do something completely and unfathomably ridiculous, like wear tighty whities on his head...and encourage his son to mimic him.)

The Life Of Sydney

I can't believe that my little Cheeto is about to turn three.  THREE.  I can't believe I've kept her alive this long given her propensity to make people want to choke her.

She is an amazingly verbose child and has so many budding talents already at two, I can't imagine what the next year holds in store for us.  She's really good at memorizing songs...she can hear a song just once and pick up half (or more) of the lyrics.  She can sing many songs by heart, and is almost always on key!  This astounds me as I still work to achieve this feat myself.  Her favorites are "Kerry" Perry's The One That Got Away and Do-Re-Mi.  She also knows Ke$ha's This Place About To Blow (which, while cringe-worthy, has inspired some of the most amazing dance moves by both children).  The Teddy Bear Picnic and Que Sera are her favorite bedtime songs.  She recently heard Sweet Dreams by the Eurythmics and fell in love with it.  I remember distinctly hearing that song in the car as a 5-year old and being entranced.  I instantly assumed it was about bullying, which is hilarious to me now.  What is even more hilarious is hearing Sydney sing it to herself as she drags her babydoll around the house: "...some of them want to 'buse you...some of them want to beat up you!"

Syddles also has some very distinct catch phrases and still hilariously mispronounces words.  Here are a few that we love:

"Hey there BOOTIE-BUTT!"
"Wait...I'm a good girl!"
"Give me some jetty beans."
"I DO need a napkin!"

Crash can (trash can)
Trench tries (french fries)
Horky-horky (okey-dokey)
Ca$ha (Ke$ha)