Not so adventures of the St. Clair clan...

We have had the Christmas tree up in our house for a little over a week now, and I'm happy to report that it is still standing.  It has acquired a pretty significant lean that we are going to have to rectify soon, but it hasn't hit the floor yet.  We are doing better than last year.  Additionally, only three ornaments have broken.  After spending the first two days re-hanging ones that had been pulled off, I gave up.  It was a losing battle.  We are down about 20% of what we started with, but it could definitely be worse.   The kids are enjoying all things Christmas right now, and I'm trying to soak it all in.  I know we don't have too many seasons left with them all believing in Santa and the magic that surrounds Christmas in general.  It's precious to me.  But here's what you shouldn't do during the holidays - try to create a precious moment...   It was a cold afternoon.  I'd been on Instagram way  too much soaking in all the cozy winter pictures and r

 I'm a little disappointed in us.  We got our Christmas tree this weekend, and it has far more weight bearing branches than I am accustomed to.  It also has branches on every side, so there is no cramming its bare spot up against the wall this year.  The original tree was a good five feet taller than our house, but Ross made quick work of adjusting that.   It's skinny (we'll call it slender), but all in all, we have a pretty decent Christmas tree.  The hardest part was cutting it down.  Not that I would know.  I was busy unsuccessfully trying to keep the girls from eating ice that our truck had broken through on several mud puddles.  I was also not successfully keeping them from falling in those same mud puddles.   Ross and the boys worked on the tree.  It was a challenge because they were using Sawyer's first generation handsaw.  From the looks of it, it was something like trying to cut a tree down with dental floss.  We might have planned that better.  Once we got it

 The girls are continuing to do their best to keep us on our toes.  It's funny later, but in the heat of the moment, whew.  I'm glad God gave us a sense of humor.   They have recently become obsessed with A) washing dishes and B) the bathroom sink.  Yesterday, I found them washing sippy cups in the bathroom sink.  I can handle the water mess.  It's just water after all...rabbit trail, it was not  water on our bathroom floor the other day.  It was definitely pee, and Emerson was the guilty party.  I couldn't be mad because I'm pretty sure she just didn't want to sit on the freezing cold toilet seat.  I understand perfectly.  I've been tempted...never mind.  I've made my stance on heated toilet seats very clear.  Back to the water mess in the bathroom.  I can handle the water.  The problem is, when I pulled the plug on the sink to drain the water, it didn't drain.  After further investigation, I found an apple slice jammed into the drain, which explain

Sawyer's razor tooth handsaw broke.  The handle split in half.  I think maybe it was made for cutting the occasional limb and maybe a Christmas tree.  He has probably leveled, limbed, and turned into logs an equivalent of an acre of timber, so I think he got his money's worth, but he was pretty heartbroken.   "Mom, I have some bad news.  Do you want to hear it?" I braced myself and nodded. "My saw broke." I exhaled, and gave him the sympathy he was looking for.  Luckily, the depression was short lived because he discovered a new love the same day: the leaf blower. He has always been skeptical of leaf blowers.  They are noisy, and that's been problematic for him.  The irony there...   Anyway, his dad told him it was his chore to leaf blow and there was no arguing.  He didn't want to do it, but once the backpack was on and he got started...let's just say we didn't see him again until it started getting dark.  Fischer also loves a good leaf blow

I knew having kids was going to be hard - sleep deprivation, worry, stress, hard choices, etc.  But nobody said anything about the tooth fairy.   I kind of hate her.   I mean, it's precious.  For the first tooth.  For the first kid.  After that, I think she stinks.  I might be the worst version of the tooth fairy.  What's the going rate on teeth these days?  I don't know.  My kids are probably getting ripped off.  I'm just hoping they don't start comparing notes with their friends at school. "What did you get?" "$10!  How about you?" "A pile of change, some lint, and a tooth brush..." "Huh.  Maybe you need to brush better." My biggest problem is remembering to be the tooth fairy.  I had to set three alarms for the last tooth.  My other problem is that my kids want to be freaking pen pals with "her."  So many letters!  So many unanswered letters...   I tried.  Then I forgot.  Then they got real confused and sad.  I

 I was feeling pretty dumpy the last week or so.  Too much real life all at once.  Being an adult is fun, except for when it's not.  We've recalibrated now and are once again focused on what's True and what's good, and also our kids are hilarious, so that helps. Sawyer got a note from a girl at school this week.  "Dear Sawyer, do you want to be friends? Yes or no."  Ross asked him what he was going to reply.  Sawyer gave him a what are you talking about  look.   "Dad, we already are  friends," he replied, annoyed by the redundancy.    "But she signed it with a heart..." "Daaaaad." Sawyer's eyeroll was almost audible.   As I'm looking into my crystal ball, I see that Sawyer's future wife will need to be very  direct. Carter's future spouse will also need to be a strong character.  She has a personality twice her size and is into more mischief than both her brothers combined.  One minute she is spinning circles in th

 Our kids have been on fire..fi-ya, this week.  They are killing me.  In a good way.   Sawyer has been on a sandwich kick.  He has this recipe that he is pretty proud of and wants to share it with the world.  He made his "famous" sandwich for Ross on Saturday and got many compliments and rave reviews.  This fed his confidence and his desire to feed more people.  He's thinking about a restaurant in the backyard.  On Monday, he made me the sandwich.   His recipe includes: bread, mayo, mustard, lettuce, pickles, cheese and black forest ham or turkey.  After giving him much applause for his masterpiece, he let me in on the one ingredient you can't replicate: magic.   At which point I realized, I should have had him wash his hands before starting.     After Sawyer's magical sandwich, the girls were doing their regular 'I'm not going to sleep' routine.  Normally, this would have tried my patience.  This time when I went in their room to put them back in bed,

     True confession: I have a thing for farmers.  The older the better.        I love  listening to farmers talk.  I love their farms and their stories about farming.  I like reading about them, watching them on TV, and listening to them on podcasts or in person.  There is something so intriguing to me about the family farm.        Also, I want to be them.  And own a cow.        I got one step closer to my cow dreams this past weekend.  A local farm where I go and occasionally work for fun (some people get their kicks at bars, and some people pull weeds, okay?!), said I could keep a milk cow on their property.  I almost flipped my lid.  Lucky for Ross, he planned on hunting when I got home, so he had an escape route.  I simmered down a degree by the time he got home.  Getting dinner on the table for four kids has a way of grounding a person.        Anyway, today the farmer's wife gave me sage advice that I didn't really want to hear.  But probably needed.  She said, "We a

 When you welcome a new baby into your family, especially when you already have older kids, it can almost feel more like (please don't take this the wrong way) adding a pet.  You have this new human who has needs and definitely affects your lifestyle, but he/she isn't adding thoughts or opinions yet to the daily family routine.  They count, but they don't really get a say in things.  I realize that we can’t stay in this phase forever, but I am not sure I am ready for what comes next.   As our girls move away from the early days of "mad and inconsolable" to "opinions with some words," I can safely say they have kept us on our toes from day one.  Now that we are on our way to the next developmental stage please, dear Lord, let it be an easy one.   Tonight, let's just be honest, we ae still fighting the bedtime blues.  I may have been a little too excited to put them to bed.  I may have started the whole routine a little too early.  That's on me. 

 I keep waiting for the naptime to become a reasonable affair with the little twinsesses.  At the rate they are going, we may graduate from napping before that day comes.  They are not delicate flowers.  I've said before that they make their brothers look like pushovers.   We routinely do the get back in your bed scenario with the girls.  My response time between hearing them get up and actually making it to their room to return them to bed is not always immediate.  Sometimes, I let them have their little dance parties just so I can get the boys started on schoolwork.  In the early days, they just tore their room apart.  They emptied containers of toys, blankets, wipes, diapers, the basic ransack routine.  When they discovered how to work the doorknobs, they began including all closet items in their destruction.  Then they figured out how to climb to the shelf in their closet.  There are no safe spaces to store things.   Because simply destroying their tidy room apparently wasn'

 Today was better.  I got both the eldest child and  his backpack into the car.  Before anyone starts patting me on the back, let me remind you that "pride cometh before the fall."  I am not a graceful "faller."  Six feet is a lot of body to get to the ground, and yes, that's my "basketball" height.  But where was I?   Oh, right, I got Sawyer to school basically on time with his backpack.  However.  However, upon getting out of the van, I noticed the boy's bedhead, toast on his face, the stained shirt I had him change out of was exchanged for another stained shirt, and his shorts had a hole in the booty.  Okay, two holes.   "Saaaawyeerrrrrr." "What?" "You look like a ragamuffin." "So? I'm never embarrassed."   And with that we went inside.   Mind you, this is the second  day in a row he wore shorts with a hole in the booty.  Apparently he has been saving his "good" shorts for at home use.  And I

 The morning started with diluted coffee.  I should have called it quits right there, turned around, gone back to bed, tried again in an hour.  I didn't.  I muddled on.  Terrible idea.   The to-do list ran long and I had to get Sawyer to school.  I didn't forget to load Sawyer in the van, that's the positive, I did forget to load his backpack that contained his schoolwork and lunch for the day.  Add a side trip to Albertsons to the list.  The big guy, who struggles when things go unexpectedly, did great after the initial shock wore off.  He made it through the day without incident. I continued to push through the murky waters.  I was delivering chickens we had butchered to some friends. (We are those  people.)  The drop off went fine, but upon walking  back to my van, my foot spontaneously became injured.  I'm not even kidding.  One second I was walking normally, the next step I was limping like an injured sasquatch.  Still am.   So this is what getting old feels like. 

 Can you "yell" in sign language?  A rabbit trail got me to this question, but now I want to know.  What does that look like?   My friend asked the other day if all moms yell at their kids at least on occasion.  Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm going to go with a hard "yes."  If you are that anomaly that has never yelled and your child is over two-years-old, please, come teach us your ways.     I never knew I was a "yeller" until I had a toddler.  It was a lot less of an issue when I just had one.  It's something I'm working on.  Everyday.  Especially because two two-year-olds in our house have a zero response rate to a civil tone.  Not that they give me many opportunities to correct them...unless they are awake.   In our house, you basically have  to yell to be heard. It's not the most relaxing environment. We took Laura Ingalls' "seen and not heard" and changed it to "heard even when not seen."   I'm hoping

       The boys spent a large portion of their free time today pulling the tabs off of a couple hundred sparkling water and beer cans.  Mostly water, for you judgmental folks.  It allowed me to have an entire phone conversation without interruption, so after running a quick cost/benefit analysis in my head, I let them proceed with the project.  After I got off the phone, they told me they were planning on making maracas (again) with the cans and the detached tabs.       Three things occurred to me after this conversation.  First, we probably drink way too much sparkling water.  Second, kids will eventually find something to do if you don't provide them with entertainment.  Third, if our boys are inspired to spend hours making maracas, we have probably failed them in the music education department.  I mean, maracas?!   That is not a cool instrument, unless you're in a mariachi band, and these boys are not.  Drums, cymbals, heck a tambourine has more clout.       Music is not my

 "Before you leave, clean up your mess on the table.  You just spilled milk everywhere."  I was talking to my six-year-old.   He responded by lying across the table with his chest to soak up the spill with his shirt.  Welcome to my life, and a quick shout out to mom's everywhere.  I'm here for you.  Really, I am.   I had a friend tell me the other day that she loves reading my blog because it makes her kids seem much more normal and mellow.  (Although, her daughter was stashing used kitty litter under her dresser, so I don't know...)  Kids have their own unique level of crazy.  It's comforting to know, we as parents, are in this together.   I'm pretty confident that our twins are a special kind of challenging.  I'm not sure why that is.  My husband must have been a tough toddler because surely they don't take after me.  Our most recent evening with the girls went down like this: Emerson was wearing a pretty barrette in her hair.  Carter wanted it. 

 Somedays I panic at the idea that our precious offspring are meant to one day fly the coup.  Other days I'm tempted to ship them with a one-way ticket to Kalamazoo.  Yesterday was panic.  Today was Kalamazoo.   "How many different ways can we find to irritate one another?"  That was the game the boys chose to play this afternoon.  "What else can I destroy?" was the activity the girls opted for.  Our house was not tranquil.  I was not nurturing.  In fact, I was more like a raging Marine sergeant, but without the tidy uniform.  I'm not sure it was the right technique, but the boys' room did get cleaned.      The girls, on the other hand, continued their rampage right up until bedtime.  They are a different breed of animal.  They are also quick to pick up on all the boy's habits.  They have recently taken to calling each other "pains" when they are angry.  Two-year-olds who can barely form sentences but clearly yell insults at each other...I

 When you start feeling good about yourself, and your parenting skills, go out in public with your toddlers.  And stay there past their bedtime.  It is a deeply humbling experience.  It is also an excellent way to shed some Calories.   We went to a Lady Caveman volleyball game tonight.  Apparently the girls were disappointed that they didn't get to be cavemen , we must have had a little communication gap, so they did their best barbaric display all evening.  Sorry to the people sitting behind us.  And below us.  And beside us.    Before the game, we knew things were going to go poorly when Carter started eating her pizza with her face.  I mean, she set it on the bench and went at it with no hands - face in the pizza.  We stopped her, but she continued to eat toppings down until she had a hole eaten clean through the middle of the slice.  We did not teach her that.   Once we made it into the gym, it was well past their bedtime.  I hoped letting them run a little before hand had giv

 By the end of the summer I was half looking forward to school starting and having a more structured routine again.  Well, that lasted two weeks.  Now I'm ready for a vacation.   Hosting several dinners, starting a new school year, and the abundance of the late summer garden are all good things, but they have me feeling a little overwhelmed on the day-to-day stuff.  I'm not typically an essential oils person, but I just doused myself in an entire bottle of "calming blend" after looking at the laundry situation.  Still waiting for it to kick in.     We don't have real high daily standards around here to begin with: clean shirt, clean underwear, brush your teeth and don't kill your brother.  I think we are only averaging one out of four.  I'm not sure how we have fallen so low so fast.  I'm questioning my life choices.    Homeschooling two kids in two different grades is part three ring circus and part boot camp.  Currently, neither system is winning.  I

 Every day is an adventure at our house, but yesterday felt extra adventurey.  Sometimes I wonder if eighteen years is enough to teach our kids how to be contributing members of society.  We are more than a third of the way there with the older two, and I'm having my doubts.  One of the boys jumped out of a tree yesterday with his pants around his knees.  Naturally, I was curious. "Why are your pants down?" "I was trying to pee from out of the tree, but it didn't work." "Yeah, that doesn't sound like a great idea." "Oh, we've done it before from our favorite climbing tree," piped up his brother.  "It was like a yellow waterfall." I'm sure it was.  I went back in the house.  Nobody prepped me for that. Just when I think they can't surprise me with anything they do, they prove me wrong.  All of them.  Our boys are going to need a lot of "molding" over the next decade.  If anyone wants to contribute to tha

 Is there anything more relatable than a mom carrying a screaming child - football style - out of a grocery store?  I hope not because today, she was me.  We made the same exit from the library.  It was a fun start to the day.     When I decided to set the guilty child on her feet at the library, she made a brief escape attempt in the parking lot.  Mercifully, I can still out run her.  Unfortunately, what she lacked in speed she made up for in volume.  My apologies to downtown Rogue River and surrounding areas.     Sometimes I want to scream out my frustration toddler style.  Occasionally, I do.  It's never as satisfying as I expect, and then I have to go around apologizing to everyone.  As a general rule, I try to keep my frustration to flared nostrils and heavy breathing.   We have one boy who shares my quick temper.  He has quickly developed his own set of "swears" since truly naughty words are not tolerated in our house.  "You pain!" or " Rat!" are

 We attended a birthday party last weekend for eight-year-old twin girls.  There were bunnies and a pony ride.  They are officially the birthday party champions.   All of the kids were thoroughly entertained.  Carter and Emerson were thrilled with watching Tonka, the littlest pony I've ever seen, do laps around the yard with each of the party goers.  When the line finally fizzled out, we decided to see if they wanted a turn in the saddle.  Both said, "Yes."   Carter was brave from a distance, but shook almost the entire ride and wouldn't let go of my arm until the very end.   Emerson was much more eager to ride and tried to keep a Joe-cool face, but a couple of grins escaped her.   Needless to say, they both thought it was amazing.  This was confirmed later that day at home.   Ross was changing Carter's diaper and she repeatedly asked, "Ride horse again?  Ride horse again?"  Then she told him with more confidence than she showed at the party, "Not f

 Not to brag or anything, but I think we are raising some very advanced children.  At two-years-of-age, our girls have already worked out the art of manipulation and deflection.  It's the antithesis of endearing.   They went missing the other day - the girls did.  That's never a good situation.  They were in the house, and I knew they were in the house, but I couldn't see or hear them.  Silence is the loudest alarm system.  Fischer took action and found them both in my bathroom.   "MOM!" I met them in the hall.  Carter was covered in clumps and blobs of hand cream. "Emi did it," was her unsolicited response.   "No," I told her.  "I think you  did it." That night I got ready for bed and pulled out my one "self-care" splurge - my face cream .  It was in my drawer where I always keep it.  The lid was screwed on.  And it was empty, wiped clean.  "EmmmeerrrrrSON!" Guilty.  They were both guilty. I'm not sure who the

 This might be a little controversial.  I try to steer clear of such topics in this space, but it needs to be said.  Take it as you will, but know that it comes from a place of love, concern, and respect.  Here it is: there is a right  way to cut an onion. Now, I'm not saying this to try and get anyone's dander up.  I'm just saying it's a subject that needs to be addressed in kitchens across America.  There may be more than one right way to skin a cat (I can't say I've tested that), but the same does not hold true for onions.  Please, you can teach an old dog new tricks - learn how to properly cut an onion.  It will save you time, frustration, onion tears, and possibly a finger.     Now, since I'm still sitting here on blogspot like it's 2003, I'm not going to post any how-to videos, but I'll do the next best thing.  I'll paste a link right here .    Check it out.  Practice it.  Make it a habit.  Thank me later.   I had to get that off my che

 We must look like some kind of spectacle rolling down the aisles of the grocery store with four kids sitting in or hanging off of various points of the grocery cart.  I forgot to check before we left the house, but mercifully the boys socks were all the same color this time and neither one was wearing muck boots with his shorts on this 90 degree day.  It didn't stop the stares, however, as we did our early morning grocery run.   It may have been the two-year-old riding the cart like a surf board and yelling "hi" at every shopper and employee we passed.  Or maybe it was her sister riding shotgun with a pair of goggles around her neck staring daggers at every shopper and employee that attempted to make eye contact.  They may be twins, but they aren't very twinsie.  At any rate, I felt like free entertainment for half the city today.  Next time, I'm selling tickets.   The garden isn't quite providing for all the needs and we still don't have that cow, so sho

      As bittersweet as it is to watch our kids grow older, I'm really enjoying the stage we are in from a literary standpoint.  The boys still want me to read to them every night, and we have graduated from the repetitive quick reads to actual chapter books.  It's the only time I get to read these days, and I'm enjoying revisiting some books I read as a kid and also several that are new to me.   Sawyer was gifted some Hardy Boys  books for his birthday this year.  I was excited to get those...I mean, I was excited he got those because I was an avid Nancy Drew and Hardy Boy  fan in elementary school. Unfortunately, we have discovered that Sawyer doesn't quite have the stomach for the level of suspense in these novels, and we may have to set them aside for a couple of years.  I'll be sneaking them at night to read under my covers with  a flashlight.  Leave me alone.     The books are surprisingly not as cheesy to my adult self as some of the other books we have rere

 I've learned over the years that saying "never" to something typically bites me in the butt - sometimes immediately, sometimes years down the road.  This has been a consistent truth as far back as I can remember.   The first time I can recall being adamant about "never" doing something was in middle school.  I told my PE teacher then that I would never run cross country.  I was a soccer player.  Running without a ball was boring.  Eight years of cross country and twenty-five years of being a runner later, that clearly didn't work out.  Running has been such a foundational part of my life.  It has introduced me to so many people, taken me to amazing places, and given me an outlet that I can't imagine doing life without.    In high school I distinctly recall telling my English teacher that I would never  be a teacher.  When I was done with school, I was going to be done  with school.  And then I became a public school teacher for eight years.       As a s

  I will be the first to admit, I let some things go after having the twins.  Like personal space, time to myself, and the ability to have my own thoughts.  Sleep, regular meal times, and relaxing showers - also gone.  It's true that my plate has been a little extra full, but I may have also used having four kids at home as an excuse to let my fitness slide.  I mean, who has time or energy to workout.  Carrying around babies counts for something, right?   I've rode that horse for two years.  Then today, I rode Sawyer's bicycle.  I hopped on just to be funny.  It's clearly too small for me, but I can make it work.  I cruised around the yard, standing up on the pedals and the kids got a kick out of seeing their old boring mom on a bike.  I was feeling pretty good about it.  Then I sat down on the seat and something bumped me.  Again and again and again.  At that point, I became shockingly aware that the back wheel was rubbing my booty...or rather, my booty hung so much ov

 Our two-year-old daughter turned her pepperoni pizza into a pistol yesterday and spent several minutes dispatching bad guys around the house.  Ross and I exchanged simultaneous looks of surprise and amusement.  And then Ross paused what he was doing and corrected her form...just kidding.  He was one of the bad guys and just wanted to avoid getting tomato sauce on his shorts.   The prior morning, during a family photo shoot, it was her sister that had us exchanging glances.   "She's so cute rubbing those two sticks together."   "Well, she's trying to start a fire...."  Less cute.  *Photo Credit: brownmoosephotography Obviously, the girls keep close eyes on their brothers, and we in turn, have to keep close eyes on all four of them.  Sometimes we wonder if we're doing this parenting thing right.  Then we read another news headline and conclude that, "Yep, survival skills might come in handy.  We'll let that ride." The skill set that might be

You know that out of control feeling when your face contorts like a wet mop and you just have to go with it?  I think it's called "ugly crying."  Now take that concept and apply it to feeding yourself.  I'm calling it "ugly eating."   The food was just that good.   We spent some time at Newport last weekend with friends I've known since college.  They were there with their kids so we came to join them for a weekend and introduced them to clamming.  It was muddy and phenomenal.  Every kid (including the grown up ones) got their fill of mud and digging holes.   What is it with boys and holes?  We had to implement a rule at our house about digging.  We have lots of acreage where digging might be considered appropriate, but you may not create manmade lakes, craters, caves, or oceans in the immediate yard area.  The boys have lost shovel privilege's several times in consequence of that particular rule.      But clamming.  We got our limits worth of  mud a

 This week was full of playdates, dinner guests, Vacation Bible School, and a variety of other activities - all good things, but a lot.  Before the week was half over, I was dragging a bit.  I needed a boost to get through my day.  A nap sounded pleasant in theory, but kids.....   Option number two was coffee.  It seemed like a good plan at noon.  Unfortunately, it took me another hour to make it happen.   Apparently, I'm no longer a two coffee a day person.  Even if the second coffee is more sugar than caffeine (thank you local coffee stand).  It  definitely did it's job, it just did it a little too well.  We got through our day in one piece and put the kids to bed by 7:30.   Between 7:30 and 9:00, I fit in another whole day worth of projects.  Dishes, gardening, weed whacking, chicken chores, laundry - it was an epic amount of activity.  And I felt great!  It didn't occur to me why I was so productive.       By my bed time, I was physically worn out.  I couldn't wait

 I used an entire magic eraser and entirely too many minutes scrubbing pitch off our sliding glass door handle this evening.  Just the handle.  It worked, so chalk that up to another "win" for Mr. Clean, but I am considering charging my time and the cost of the eraser to our boys' account.  I can't with those two...I don't even know where to begin.     Sawyer came in the house while I was cleaning the kitchen before starting dinner prep.  I mostly ignored him when he said he put pitch on his hand.  I gave him a, "Well, that wasn't very smart," and that was about it.  I didn't look up.  I didn't stop my sweeping of breakfast, lunch, and craft debris from under the table.  He left for the bathroom. A short time later, he returned to the kitchen and asked for coconut oil.  If you didn't love it all ready, coconut oil is a champ at removing pitch and Sawyer has proven this theory.  Because he already knew the consequences of touching pitch a

 We recently had to spend some time at home as a family because: Covid.  I don't hate being stuck at home, but it was not exactly the greatest timing.  When is it a good time to be sick?  There were some things that the kids were especially sad to miss out on, but I made up for it by letting them have cereal for breakfast.  That pretty much heals all wounds in our house.  I guess they are tired of option oatmeal.   Anyway, between that and some extra screen time, we came out smelling like lilies - almost as good as roses.     Looking at the bright side of things, it also saved me from having to see people face to face while my face exploded.  Why, pray tell, am I almost forty with the acne of a fourteen year-old?  I am currently sporting a second chin.  You're welcome for my staying at home.   When I was younger...much younger, somebody said that having skin that tended to be on the oily end of the spectrum would keep it looking young longer.  For the record, that is false . 

  I have heard people say that getting toddlers to do something is a lot like herding cats.  I disagree.  Herding cats sounds possible.  I think I'd rather do that.  Cats are certainly more predictable than toddlers...at least our toddlers.   To that point, today I had one of the twins pointing out my "owies" and kissing them, next thing I know she turns around and slaps her sister, then hits the ground and starts meowing like a kitty.  (A feral kitty if you ask me.)  I sat there in stunned silence, not because I was surprised by her antics, but because her sister jumped right in and slapped her back.  I had an all out brawl...or cat fight on my hands, and they're only two.  What are they going to be like when they are thirteen?! Maybe it's our combined genetics, or lack of parenting skills, or maybe we just drew a couple of wild cards.  I don't know.  I do know  that in the last two days both my sister and Ross have brought up Nanny 911 .   I'd forgotten

 "Are we a$$ holes?"   It's not a question I'd ever thought about before, and my knee jerk reaction to my husband's query was, "Of course not."   But then he made his case for why we might be, and I thought, " We might be ."  Which is a real bummer because it's something I've never aspired to.   There was that moment in middle school when I definitely was.  (Melissa Rollins, if you're out there, I still owe you an apology.)  There was also that time in high school...once or twice in college, definitely a handful of moments in my first teaching job, one or two I can point to in my second job, and in my marriage...okay, so there might be a bit of a history there after all.  But it wasn't intentional.  I've never been an intentional  a$$ hole.   So now we are at a bit of a crossroads.  Having determined that we are perhaps the problem in our lives, do we own it and become intentional   a$$ holes or try to fix it?  I mean, Ross

 Morning wake-up calls are hard.  Emerson rolled into our room the other morning at 6:00am.  Since she was the first kid up, and I wasn't yet prepared to start a new day, I lifted her into the bed beside me.  This isn't usually allowed, but I needed just five more minutes.  And she's cute.  At least she was cute until she started picking her nose on the pillow beside me.  Being a generous two-year-old, she offered me the booger, but I refused it.  She offered it to me again, and I gave her another, "no thank you," so she wiped it on my pillowcase.  The no kids in the bed rule was immediately reinstated.   I need advice.  Our kids are basically professional nose pickers.  I don't know how we got here, but I don't know how to get off this train.  The younger ones think it's funny to walk around with their fingers jammed up to their brains and the older ones don't even realize they are doing it, it's become such a disgusting habit.  Only they do

  Whoever thought it was a good idea to sell sippy cups in multi-color packs was a real jerk.  Monochromatic.  All the moms just want one option.  Everyone gets blue!  You're not doing anyone any favors by offering multiple colors or designs on things, and heaven forbid making new and improved versions.  One color. One design. Forever!  That's my winning business formula.  I'd gofundme that.     Along those lines, can somebody explain to me why we can't just have one white sock option?  Why do they make changes?  The sock looked good with the logo written on the toe in red, then it went blue, and now green.  The sock had a solid upper and now it's ribbed.  I can't find a freaking match for anything.  Andddd, the kids can't handle the old socks once they've experienced the new  socks, which makes my options very limited.  Especially when we are short on time.  There are never the right  clean socks when we are late.  One sock.  One color.  One design.  Fo

 Friends, good friends are hard to find.  When I was in high school, I couldn't comprehend that I might not keep in touch with my cross country teammates throughout our lives.  We spent so much time together and had such a tight bond as a team.   Today, of the fifteen or so runners I was friends with, I keep in regular contact with one.    My current circle of friends, are in the trenches with me.  They are moms of young kids.  And as much as I'd like to have my runner body back, I don't really miss those X-C relationships as much as I thought I would.  Instead of sharing a runner's high, my current circle of friends is sharing carpet cleaners and free range eggs.  I've reached a new level of adulting that I never pictured myself engaged in, but here I am just about killing it.  There is something very satisfying about shampooing your rugs.   My friends really are the best.  I'll send a picture of a mess that has sent me over the edge, and they'll counter wi