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All Fun and Games... Mostly

I hope I don't sound like Debbie Downer on these posts.  It's possible I highlight the crazy maybe a little more often than the sweet.  Truthfully, I love my stay-at-home-mom job 90% of the time, but every job has it's high points and its low points. 

Hearing your baby say "mama" for the first time: high point.  

Hearing your five-year-old scream "mom" from outside your bathroom door for the fifteenth time: low point.    

Getting an unexpected hug from your seven-year-old: high point.

Getting unexpectedly shot with a nerf gun by your seven-year-old (timing is everything): low point.

You get the idea.  

At the end of the day, you just hope the balance lands in favor of the positive.  

Unfortunately, for us, today started in the red.  I blame prune juice. It's a long story, and it ends with me ruining my chances at earning Star Mother for the month of January.  It's a bummer because I thought I had a real chance.  I didn't get it last month either.  Stupid prune juice.  

There's also a good possibility our guest bathroom will continue to be clogged on a regular basis.  One child, who will remain nameless, would rather face destruction of catastrophic proportions than so much as touch the glass that holds such horrid tasting juice (my paraphrase).  He will henceforth be titled: Chief Plunger of the Toilet.  Ah, motherhood.  Such a blessed time.       

It all worked out, the prune juice incident, I mean.  At the end of the day, it wasn't on anyone's radar.  

Whether it's prune juice or something else, those battles of will start early.  My favorite with the twins is getting them dressed. They hate it.  They don't want to change into pajamas, they don't want to change out of pajamas, they don't want to get dressed ever.  Period.  I'm currently on a marathoner's diet just to make sure I maintain enough Calories for these wrestling matches, and it's not working.  Both girls are runners when they see clean clothes come out.  They are also wrestlers, limp noodles, and screamers.  

I imagine it's a lot like trying to dress a feral cat.  One with rabies.  

Getting them dressed is always a workout.  My favorite move is when one of them strips out of her clean clothing as I dress number two. Then she typically runs and hides under the crib. I have to shimmy myself under until I can catch an arm or a leg and pull her out to start all over again.  Fun game. 

If anyone wants to try this excellent exercise program, there is plenty of space.  I charge a low per session  fee, and this month only, I'll be waiving the membership costs, so sign up quick!  

Please...    

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