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

 "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