June is flying by. There has been a six month lapse between posts because I've been in the throes of a semi-manageable nervous breakdown. Between two kids under the age of four and trying to find a job, my life has been insanity multiplied by a multitude of poopy diapers. I can't believe I have survived to tell the tale, frankly. It was pretty hairy for a while there. Consider yourself lucky you didn't have to bear witness to the crazy.
So for your convenience, I'll recap the last six months in short, but overly descriptive sentences and/or paragraphs. Ready, set, GO.
1) The two-year old has decided not to poop. His record thus far is five days. No pooping, but lots of screaming in pain. His last movement was not unlike giving birth to a large goose egg. Needless to say, he has been a complete joy to be around. And by "joy" I mean "horrible I can't believe I have to deal with this isn't giving birth enough why can't I have a latte in peace."
2) The nearly four-year old is desperate to turn really four, which is months away and I can't seem to wrap my brain around the party details yet. I believe I may be in denial, since they're no longer babies and I'm missing that new baby smell. I have yet to see a new baby smell car freshener. Someone do something about that.
Anyway, he routinely asks if he's four yet, and when the answer is "No, not yet," he asks WHEN is his birthday and WHEN can he have his birthday and WHEN are the presents coming and WHEN. It's not at all annoying except when it is. And he's snoopy. He likes to snoop. I have a closet full of pinatas and stuff and I can't afford this behavior. Eventually, something will have to be done and I'll have to install an alarm system. Maybe I'll enlist his brother, who is more than happy to oblige, I'm sure.
3) The brothers are starting to act suspiciously like brothers. They play, they hug, they kiss, they say "I love you" and alternately they try to kill each other. No really, they try to kill each other...with looks, with hands, with feet, with their butts. It's not unlike having two cats thrown into a magical fountain that obliterates any memory of being affectionate toward one another. But really, they are pretty sweet to each other...except when they're not...or when there's a toy involved. If there's a toy involved, all bets are off. I dread the day they bring home a girl.
4) The nearly four-year old boy can read. Well, somewhat read. But STILL COME ON BRAGGING RIGHTS. He was always obsessed with numbers and letters to the degree that I was worried about raising Rain Man. He started at 18 months and knew his numbers to 100 by two. The teachers are impressed, the parents in his school ask if he's always been that way, and we are very nonchalant about the whole thing, I suppose because we've always been very used to it. It's nothing new to us, and we never had a second thought about it. But when I sit and have a moment to think about it, I can see how smart he is and boy, that tiger mom in me wants to roar.
That's not to say that both boys are the same. The younger brother has interest in what his older brother does, naturally, but can't grasp the concept of being absolutely and completely obsessed with something. He finds something interesting for a day, and then leaves it for a week, only to return to it the next day. However, he's cunning in a scary way. He gets what he wants before we even realize he's gotten it. That's smart, too...but we fear that kind of smart. He's manipulative because he is pretty damn adorable and he knows how to use his cute for evil. This one will cause us trouble, I'm afraid.
5) Food. We're running out of it. I'm starving. We need a telethon to raise money for groceries. These boys eat nonstop and they are not timid about the mountain of food they need to function. Sometimes, I find myself cringing while they eat. It is not unlike watching feeding time at the zoo. Boys are gross.
6) Although my older boy has conquered potty training, albeit late at 3 1/2 years old, my youngest won't even consider sitting on the thing. We ask him regularly if he will grace the seat with his butt, but no, he won't. He can't even be bothered to be asked, and runs screaming from the room. In turn, he hides under the dining room table and does his business in his diaper there, all the while staring me down from across the room. Eerie. And smelly.
7) Babies. The husband and I have been discussing a third baby, and it's kind of a To Be or Not To Be kind of thing. Obviously, I'm tired. I want to get back to sleeping more than five hours at a time eventually, and having a newborn in the house would obviously take that off the table. I'm not interested in stretching my body to the four winds again either, considering my body has not bounced back from anything in over four years. I'm older, and being called a geriatric pregnant woman is something I don't cherish. So, everything points to no way, no how, are you joking, shut up. But then I visited my friend's baby the other day, who is four days old, and OMG HOW ADORABLE I NEED TO BE PREGNANT RIGHT NOW. Oh don't worry, because it wears off in a while and then I'm back to, AH MY PILLOW FEELS SO GOOD ON MY SLEEPY FACE.
8) Television. I used to think it was evil and parents were horrible for plopping their kids in front of one. But now, I can use the bathroom without someone sitting on my lap, so...yeah, television. PBS is my friend.
