Dressing the Part

Well, here's a bit of foreshadowing for you.  Did anyone take a gander at this crazy belt my husband wore to church?  I tried to get a photo of him wearing it, but he got into his elastic pants before I could get the kids carried in from the van.  He's kinda like Mr. Rogers, but instead of cardigans, it is pants.  As soon as he arrives home from anywhere...he immediately changes into his trusty sweatpants. Well, just remember this crazy belt!

Rewind to 2:00 AM, I just came back into the room from being up with Z.  Kee started patting my arm.  Then he held up two fingers and pretended to cut the air.  This went on for about 5 minutes.  Z must have rolled into the side of his crib, because a loud thud came across the monitor. Kee, "I hear something! Did you hear something?" I knew he was sleep-talking because his fingers were still slicing away at the air. 

Then he stiffened out his arm and pointed at the far wall.  "Has anyone ever asked you to ride that cow? Could you do if for 8 seconds?!"

I grabbed for my phone, thinking I could maybe videotape this (it was too dark and he was talking in a quiet whisper).

"Well, they don't know that I'm the meanest guy in the pasture!" Kee said in a gruff voice.

I asked some clarifying questions, but the moment was over and no video!

In the morning, I asked him if he was able to ride that cow for 8 seconds.  He looked at me in shock. 

"Jess, I dreamed that this bull speared me in the side...that's why my ribs are sore."

We finished getting ready for church, and out Kee came wearing that belt.  I'm not even sure where it came from.  He asked what shoes he should wear (this is always a dilemma for him).  I think he had his heart set on wearing his cowboy boots (yes, he owns a pair), but I let him know that one piece of western-wear was enough for one day. I'm not that crazy about him dressing like his dreams, I bet you are all glad that this new phenomenon has happened after the ninja dreams.  Pretty sure we might scare a few people at church if Kee decided to dress as a baby ninja fighter!

I may just have to inform Kee that he is not Lane Frost.  It has been years since we've watched that movie...I just hope he doesn't bring back his Brownie fighting days from Willow!

Let's make up!

Very recently I was asked by a coworker, "How do you have time to blog with two kids?"  Well, to that I answererd, "I do most of my writing in the late hours of the night when my kiddos are up (don't get me started on the sleep issues)!"  I divulged that many "home" tasks do not get done...she was talking about cleaning her ceiling fan!  Because my kiddos cannot coordinate their  napping schedules during the day, I have a hard time even getting the dishwasher unloaded!

Well, during the most recent snow day I aimed to be productive!  While Z was napping and Twiggy was watching Nick Jr in my room, I ran downstairs to put some laundry in the washer.  I was probably downstairs for 10 minutes (and that is being generous).  I often leave my daughter to her own devices for short bits of time.  She can happily play dollhouse solo, read books to her baby dolls, and work on puzzles while I tackle these small domestic jobs.  No big deal!

I returned back upstairs to find my bedroom door closed.  I thought this was strange.  I began to open it, and Twiggy immediately stopped me from the other side. Judging from experience, that is not good!

I very sternly instructed her to let me in.  As soon as the door opened, a wave of fruity scent hit my nose!  Hmmm....smelled so good. She was hiding behind the door.  First I see my hair serum...with about a quarter of it missing (that was the good aroma)! She had smeared it all over our wooden furniture and our full length mirror.

Then Twiggy peered from behind the door.  The photos don't do it justice, but she had foundation ALL over her face!

Her lips were covered....her eyelashes were beige!

It wasn't good.

My foundation container looked like it had been left out in the hot sun. 

I felt my temper rising. But for some strange reason I remembered a time when one of my childhood friends and I had gotten into a similarly messy situation. 

My dear friend and I had spent lots of time together...she lived right down the alley from me.  She and I were very quiet, well-mannered little first graders. One afternoon we thought we'd help my mom out.  We simply cleaned the bathroom sink for her.  Now I'm sure that would make any  mother excited to have two tiny maids. Well.... as long as their cleaning agent wasn't toothpaste.  That's right, a whole tube! I don't really remember how big of a mess it was, I just remembered Mom wasn't thrilled.  She didn't yell...she didn't have to.  We knew she was upset. I'm not sure who cleaned up the caked on toothpaste or what we did next.  I just know that we never did it again!

So looking at my painted mime of a daughter, I did what my mother did many years ago.  I asked the question, "Are you supposed to do that?"  "I sorry!" she pouted. First I got the camera and snapped a few pictures. We got a washcloth and both of us began cleaning (this process took quite a while).  Maybe in 25 years, Twiggy will be walking into a mess created by my grandchildren and she'll remember this story.  Hopefully she will not get angry, but maybe secretly giggle when she walks into the other room to get her camera.

I have to say that my mom just watched the kiddos last weekend and warned me that Twiggy was a sneaky little girl.  I think it was something about her coloring all over her hand with a marker while she sat beside my mom.  Maybe mom sees a little of me in my daughter.  Yikes!

Oh yes! Hours later when I was no longer upset and the make-up was pretty much washed away, I found this!  My make-up bag in the sink, filled with water.  I'm not even sure how she reached the faucet handles.  Oh Jessica, remember the toothpaste!  Remember the toothpaste!

Don't worry Twiggy and I have made up!  We talked about not getting into Mommy's things without asking.  We'll see how long that lasts!

Nocturnal Ninjas!

Well, I am absolutely exhausted today.  Thank goodness for my dear friend Diet Mt Dew!

My 11 month old son, Z, still isn't sleeping through the night.  I scamper out of bed at 12:45 to feed him.  I sneak back into the warmth of my bed only to be greeted by my husbands outstretched hand.  He had it straight up in the air as if he was a kindergartner with a question.  Very quietly yet intensely he said, "Jess, be careful they are using swords for butter knives!"

I guess I should take a quick break to tell you that these sleep conversations are a regular occurrence from my husband of 7 years.  They are always crazy and comical.  And no, I have yet to catch them on tape.

Me: "Who has swords?"

Kee: "The baby ninjas!" (These pesky ninjas are also a recurring theme). "Why do they need utensils anyway?  Hmm...other than a three-prong fork."

I decide to ignore him, because I'm so tired.  Sometimes talking with him only keeps it going.  I lay my head on my pillow and close my eyes.  Then I hear him tossing and turning again.

Kee: (in an English accent) "If you're going to get up anyway...could you get me a spot o' tea?"

Thankfully that was the end of the talking for the night.  But somewhere between 2:00 am and 4:00 am, Twiggy (our 3 year old daughter) crawled into bed with us.  Then at 4:23 am, little Z decided he was hungry again.  Kee's alarm went off at 6:00 and Z woke up for good at 6:48am.  Hmm...do you think I'll be lucky enough to have both kiddos nap at the same time today?