Skip to main content

Triple Threat

 People think we are raising twins, but they're wrong.  We actually have triplets: Emerson, Carter, and Carterror.  It's true.  Carterror doesn't hang around often, but when the days are long and naps have been missed, she comes out swinging.  

Today, when we should have been napping, we ran errands.  We needed some grain for our cows, so before picking up the boys from school, we stopped at the feed store.  The girls spent a little time looking at all the fish, birds, and pets they have for sale.  Immediately, after telling them not to touch the tanks, Carter tried to go fishing.  That's when I realized Carterror had arrived.  I called her name to stop her and realized her shirt was exceptionally lumpy.  

"What's in there?" I asked, pointing to her newly developed bosom.  

"My kitty," she replied, pulling out a stuffed cat from her sweatshirt.  A minute later, we were walking down an isle of bovine paraphernalia and she darted around a corner.  When I called her, she came sauntering back, and I noticed she had developed elephantitis in her right leg.  

“What's in there?” I asked, pointing to her giant thigh.  

"My soft jacket," she stated nonchalantly.  

"Take that out of  your pants," I said a little too loudly.

"No."

"Carter, take that out," I hissed, helping her pull her favorite sweater out of her pant leg.  

The boys think it's hilarious when Carter is overtired because she has zero filter and no fear of consequences.   Getting ready to head home from our friend's farm this evening, I told her to get in her car seat while I buckled in her sister.  She got in, but I looked away, and she got out.  I looked back up and she got in.  This went on several times while I was too far away to reach her, and all the while she chanted, "Now, I'm in.  Now, I'm out."  It's hard to discipline an impetuous child when you are trying not to laugh.  There's a good chance we are all going to need serious counseling before she's eighteen.     

All afternoon I was calling her Carter Oleava when she was making questionable choices.  Apparently, the girls don't grasp the whole middle name thing yet because by evening, they were calling each other  "Oleavas" when they where upset.  We will have to work on that.  

Things continued to spiral at bedtime, and we ended the day with her trying to eat a piece of paper before I could take it away from her.  I should have let her eat it, but it was too glossy and there was too much dye on it for me to feel comfortable.  

The bright side is, come bedtime, Emerson, Carter and Carterror fall asleep the moment their heads hit the pillow, even if that pillow is covered in shreds of chewed up paper.  


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Sheltering in Place

In the past three months Corona Virus has more or less turned the world on its head.  I feel almost guilty for not being more stressed or put out by the whole thing.  We have been extremely fortunate. What we thought was a most impractical move on our part, wound up being a huge blessing.  With our two boys and our two newborns, we moved out of our house with no yard in the city limits and into my parents' house in the country while waiting for our new house to be completed.  The weekend we moved "quarantine," "social distancing," and "shelter in place" became the new mantra of our state.   Moving in with my parents meant ten plus acres of play space and two extra able bodied adults to help even out the score with the four kids.  Win for the St. Clair's!  Unfortunately, my parents are beginning to realize they may have made an error in judgement.   Yesterday, Sawyer gave their cat swimming lessons.   Last week th...

For the Love of Kids

I love the contrasting sides of our children.  It's one of my favorite things that I didn't know I was going to love.  I think it's fair to say that when we have kids, we all know we will love the squishy babies, hearing kids laugh, seeing holidays through their eyes, and dressing them in the cute little outfits (I'm told boys don't wear outfits , but it's my blog). I didn't know how much I'd love seeing my loud, dirt loving, gun fanatic, wrestling maniac five-year-old turn into the sweetest and most gentle big brother while holding his baby sister.  He sits and quietly tells her stories about his fishing and hunting conquests unaware of anyone else in the room, and my heart absolutely melts. Then we have my slightly crusty, flannel loving, mismatching three-year-old that will choose a princess dress from the costume closet because although he likes sand and rocks and sticks and filth, he also likes and appreciates things that are beautiful. I lov...

Week in the Real World

Exhausted.  Mentally and emotionally drained.  And that's where I'm at, at the end of this week.  I'm almost embarrassed to admit it.  I've been defeated by a six-year-old and a three-year-old.  Plus a couple of babies.   This is Ross' first week back to school full-time after a wonderfully long summer and spring of being mostly at home.  We are grateful he has a job, but we are sad to see him go.  This is the first time since March that I have been running solo with all four kids all day everyday.  I was feeling pretty low by the end of this week, and then I had to give myself a reality check.  We have a friend who has been doing this for a whole year.  No nights off.  No weekends off.  Her husband has been deployed since last fall.  I have it pretty good.   But, lest you think better of me than you should, sit tight, and I'll give you a little glimpse into our week.   We don't do transitions...