woke up- in pain (thanks to poor sleep and phone call at 4am that made me anxious for multiple reasons).
And this is one of those mornings I am thankful for tender mercies. Thankful that the kids have just cuddled on the bed with me all morning- being quiet and sweet. Thankful for modern drugs. Thankful that I don't have to work until late this afternoon. Thankful for a best friend like Andrea who will bring the kids to work and thus save me 2 hours of driving, by driving her pregnant self and my kids and her kid two hours. Thankful for the anticipation of the holidays. Thankful thankful thankful. And going to lay down again in hopes the back will be better for when I really have to get moving.

Sitting on my Couch

Just lounging on the couch, loving the views, enjoying the company. Here is what I was looking at:


And here is the charming cuddle monkey sitting next to me:

Coenisims

It is a wonderful sunny morning, the boys are playing well together and I am listening to Music and the Spoken Word- which always just seems to sooth the angry beast I am in the morning. (I just realized I have turned into one of "those women" who listens to Mo Tab- sigh I must be old.)

Coen told me this morning while he was grudgingly eating his oatmeal "Mama I not happy at you."

And when I asked him if he was going to take a bath- "I think it is too wet for me."

And again pooped on the floor this morning- but this time except for wiping his little bottom he completely cleaned up the mess himself. It was pretty impressive.

All this before 9:30 am.

Off to clean and do laundry, and maybe sew a little. And Coen is claiming it is his turn to play on poisson rouge- his little french kiddie website he is totally obsessed with.

Yesterday
House Clean
(not spotless- who are we joking it is never spotless- but it was very clean)
5 loads of laundry done
Dryer broken and fixed
Grocery shopping done
High hopes for the next day

I felt like I was on top of the world looking forward to music class

24 hours later
House looks like a tornado hit it
(and because you really don't know what that means- Coen emptied his fathers bucket of tennis balls practicing his serve in the living room- Beckett has emptied the shelf of American History books- a pillow pit in the family room- the remains of a train line sadly savaged by a vicious giant and this)
The kitchen floor is a whole other story- lasagna, crackers, two cupboards of dishes out, raisins, all mixed together in a nightmarish tableau
Just finished cleaning an insane amount of poop out of the bath tub and off of the baby who was recently covered in lasagna and now in poop
Baby has an unfortunate infection in his nether region
Very bad pain day- lots of Vicoden with very little relief
And that music class- Andrea and I exchanged disappointed looks when the very large- mean toddler walked in 5 minutes later. Can't say how upsetting this was- she has been known to corner babies a 1/4 of her size in the corner and hitting them- all while her grandma turns a blind eye- I have saved children from her countless times- and then as we were leaving class we found a good friend of ours was in the next class- Ugh. Why why did we sign up for the early class?
Coen is still knocking on the door to get my attention
Going to start another load of laundry- don't you love potty training?
And the hot water heater is out again- for like the tenth time this week.

So all night while Alma is playing basket ball (which I am actually very happy about) I keep humming that little song we used to sing as little girls.

Imagine me cloroxing the poop tub all the while humming
When I grow up I want to be a mother
and have a family
one little two little three little
babies of my own

Just because I know you are wondering- Why was the water running in the bathroom?

Coen had pooped in the hall way. He then picked it up- put it in the toilet and flushed, and was washing his hands. "Because Mommy we put our poop in the toilet." Yes my son I was just envisioning a process with fewer steps. During this good little attempt to clean up himself Coen may or may not have stepped in the poop leaving tracks all over the bathroom, dropped the poop before it made it to the toilet, let his little brother help clean the dropped poop, little brother may or may not have eaten some poop gotten poop in the sink and there fore filled the.

This all happened during the typing of the last paragraph because until then, Coen was sitting in my lap. That is an amazingly fast mess making and attempted clean up.

So Coen was looking over my shoulder and he saw the "Gluttony is Ugly" picture and said "Ahhh that scared me." He is also coming down off the TV high of potty training. Since my method to get him to sit on the potty was just to drink juice and watch noggin while sitting on the toilet his TV consumption increased a lot. This week we are returning to normal and as Coen just said "Mommy I am freaking out."

Beckett is in a new screaming phase. I often wonder if he is so unhappy because I don't give him enough love and attention. (side note a toddler telling his mother to be patient has the opposite effect). Our family is suffering this morning from sleep deprivation and frayed nerves, all three of us are a little testy.

I haven't recorded Beckett's doing much. He is still emptying the cupboards daily. He is walking more and more. It is his preferred form of locomotion. The other day I had a great couple of minutes watching him trying to figure out how to make this 2 inch step down. He ended up getting on his bottom and backing down the little ledge. He then got his push toy (the object of the movement) and lifted the front wheels over the ledge got on and it still wouldn't go. He then made his angry face/ whole shaking of body with fury thing he does when frustrated which I love. It is my favorite when he does this with banana in his little fists and it sprays out during the entire body flex of anger. He then got up and lifted the back wheels and went on his merry little way. He is really loving to cook. He stirs in his little pots and puts the potatoes in and out of the drawer below the oven and tries to feed me his creations. I love the mimicking phase so much.

The last couple of Mondays we have been walking to the park to play in the cool evenings. This the best night because it is when the Nevada City band is having its rehearsal. So while you play you get to listen to the score from West Side Story. Join us at the amphitheater for the next free concert? We will bring a blanket and some snacks. We will be sitting int he back so the boys can run around like hoodlums with out annoying too many old men.

Football season is here. Which I love/dread. I love to watch BYU and NU but not every other game ever played. This weekend BYU plays Oklahoma at the new Dallas Cowboys stadium- the first game to be played in this amazing stadium. And I know it is crazy but I am still hopeful that they will beat #2 Oklahoma- they are only have 1 returning lineman- that should be in our favor right? I even have a hand me down Oklahoma onsie - but now BYU teeshirts. I was going to get them for stocking stuffers but it seems like they really need them during the season. So maybe I will order them a little earlier. The draw back to this weekend- I will be at Moms and apparently her cable is off - so no ESPN no game for me. I am seriously considering not going. I assumed my mother the sports nut would have ESPN. What is a girl to do? Call Alma for the score every 10 minutes and watch the game when I get home- but that is not really much fun. I don't see the point of watching a game that isn't live. Anyways we have only been discussing this game in detail since it was announced so the weekend will be a little anti-climatic being at moms.

I hear water running in the bathroom- so must jet.

Is is possible to take too many popsicle pictures? apparently not.

My life this week:

Sitting on the potty



Playing in the pots and pans. The more stuff out on the floor the better.

This was the day that Coen requested that we take a blanket outside for a picnic. I love the summer.

It is just exciting he let me take his picture.

Sometimes my breath is taken away by the thought that I am his mother.