Ian Strikes Again

Right. Another one from left field.
Alright I need to lay a little foundation for this one. In my kitchen, next to my sink, I have a pot of shamerocks. I've had these shamrocks for four years now. Some days I can barely keep the weeds in my yard alive but this house plant has stuck with me through it all.

I found Ian at the kitchen sink washing his hands with dish soap today. I buy dawn, the strong stuff, so Ian looked like he was wearing blue latex gloves with all the soap he had on them. I told him to quit squirreling arround and rinse his hands...and then I walk away. My bad.

I come back ten minutes later and find the plant flooded with water. All the way to the rim of the pot. And I also notice that the nearly full bottle of soap is over half gone. As I finish pouring out the water in the plant I notice a few bubbles at the base at the plant... Bubbles...great. Ten minutes later I'm still running cool water over my plant to wash out all the soap. Ian strikes again.

Killing shamrocks right before St Patricks Day cannot be good juju. I have my fingers crossed for my sturdy house plant. If it means anything Ian appologized and he seemed to really mean it. Then again he's starting to turn into a real proffessional appologizer. Maybe he'll be a PR agent one day. We'll see.:)

Thomas the Tank Engine vs. Optimus Prime

My son is having his very first sleep over. His good friend will be spending the night at our house. Now these two boys set up the remote train tracks we have in our house and around the tracks they placed different "zones" as I like to call them. They have the robot zone with leader robot being Optimus Prime himself and there is the my little ponies that they call man eating ponies zone, which I think is rather clever considering each pony has a rainbow tail. Anyways, these trains have to race across the tracks and avoid these creatures. All of the sudden I hear them making epic battle noises and apparently there was all out chaos in the game and the trains have to fight for their lives. As the dust settles apparently only Thomas survives.

Ok, I love these kids to pieces but really, Thomas the Tank Engine? I'm pretty sure Optimus Prime would kick all their butts. Just saying. I try to suggest to Ian that Optimus Prime is a very big robot and he is very strong, and Ian looks right at me and says with a face lacking almost all emotion, "Mom your weird." I know I'm a bit old school but weird? I remember calling my dad weird, but I was probably 12 years old. My son is four. Has it come to that? Sad.

The boys then revise their train tracks and they are discussing different shapes they can make with the tracks. I hear them as they bicker about this piece and that piece and as they are finally starting to agree Ian's friend says It kind of looks like the shape of poop. OMG!!! He just compared the tracks to poop. I look at the train tracks and it is a winding trail that they have set up. I don't see poop but I tried to not laugh out loud.

Bubble eater.

So Ivy's been a little under the weather and the only way I could get her to cool out was to put her in the tub. Now I tried just giving her a regular bath but the little one was still mad. So I pulled out the big guns, the bubble bath. Wouldn't you know she calmed right down.


I have what Andy likes to call a "delicate flower" I call it a high maintanence girl. Anyways, she is sitting in this bubble bath laughing her head off and I watch her attempt to eat the bubbles. Not with her hands, oh no that would be too sensable. She is putting her whole face in the bubbles with her tongue hanging out. I asked her "Is it nummy?" She looked up at me with her huge bubble beard and comes back with an enthusiastic "Mmmmmmmm." Kids are crazy but they always make me smile.

Wrestling a greased pig.

Cold season is upon us and when you have an infant or toddler usually there is a perpetual faucet dripping from their face from October to May. Thankfully we are having an extraordinarily mild winter wich means Ivy is into her second cold of the season. Not bad for the begining of February.

I think it must be said that if you ever try to wipe a childs face they will fight you. They will twist and turn to escape your grasp as if you ment them bodily harm. Now try and wipe just the nose and you feel like you are wrestling a greased pig. I almost think the younger they are the harder they fight you as you attempt to remove the unsightly mucus on their faces. I once had a friend who said she didn't much care for children becasuse they were walking disease factories and today I have to agree on the disease part. I think I have consumed more vitamine C this week then I have in my entire life up until now.

As a mother, I love when my kids cuddle me when they feel ill. I can comfort them like no one else can, and there is nothing like that feeling of being the only thing your child needs to be soothed to sleep away their sickness. But there is something about the moment your child coughs or sneezes in your face that makes you feel sure you too will be joining the club of sickies in your home. So I'm sure I will be making another run to the store today...we're gonna need more tissues. I end this with a toast, with my orange juice raised high, to all the moms out there who wrestle their slippery kids just to make sure that their nose is clean.

Horses that pull cars.

I feel I have forgot to share a few things about myself. I am a mother of three beautiful children. My eldest, Emily, is 7 years old, the middle, my only boy Ian, is 4 years old, and my youngest, Ivy, is almost 1. They can be pure joy or comlpete terrors depending on the day, hour or min. My husband, Andy, is a great man who helps out more then the average hubby. Needless to say we are always on the move.

So we went on a "family adventure" today with the kids. I say adventure but really it was running errands. We give it this exciting title in hopes our kids won't piss and moan too much while we get stuff done. Anyways, we were on our way to the store and my older two children are hounding their father to play angry birds on his smart phone. Andy tells them how there weren't any cell phones to play on when he and I were kids. I mentioned that when I was four we didn't have computers to play on either and my smart 7 year old turns to her brother and says,"yeah and they did have cars then but they needed horses to pull them around." Fantastic.

Even better, Andy has a note pad in a leather case he uses for work and Emily asks, "Is that a kindle daddy?" Andy politely says, "No honey, but i guess it is close. When I was little we didn't have kindles. We only had regular books and note books. We didn't have email so we had to write our letters and mail them." Emily says, "Oh, so you would write something down and send it to someone, and two days later they would read it and say 'oh.' Then they would write you back and two days later you would get it back and read it and say 'oh. ok.'" Andy looked at her, and with a completly straight face says, "Basically...yes." Priceless.

My kids crack me up.

The grossest week of my life.

Be warned. It's true. By far the grossest week I've ever had and I given birth to three babies.

Andy was out of town for three days this week so I was flying solo on the parent front. That is a lot of diapers for one person to change and Ivy ate something that did not agree with her Monday night so I spent Tuseday with a vomming baby. Definately not ideal.

Ivy is currently teething and I'm petty sure she is working on those one year molars. As every parent might remember the diapers of a teething baby are funky and frequent. Ivy owns aproxamatly 18 pairs of pants and we went through them all in three days. So for the purpose of coping I gave Ivy a pretty gross nickname in my head. It wasn't intended to be said out loud but just thinking it was cathardic. Anyways, it was Spicy Mustard Butt. Gross right. I mentioned to Andy, when he came home, my method of dealing and he insisted I tell him. He could not stop laughing.

To add icing to the cake one of the babies I watch decided one day that right after lunch was the perfect time to completly chunder. Bless his heart he was playing with a container full of cars and was able to catch most of it in the toy bucket. I told you it was gross.

Needless to say even though this was the grossest week to date this is not a challenge for life to step up it's game. This week can take the cake in my opinion. No toppers here please.

So this is blogging.

Right then.

So Emma, my sister, set up this blog for me because she thinks my life with three kids is royally entertaining. I'm not sure the word I would choose is entertaining but ok she doesn't have kids and I would probably laugh at the crap my kids do if they were not doing it to me and my things.

I must be honest the thought of writing a blog worries me a bit. Will it turn into another thing on my To Do list? Will everyone find out that my grammer is terrible and I cannot spell for crap? What happens when I haven't posted in 2 weeks? So because I have technically voiced these concerns you all now have had advanced warning. I cannot promise I will be consistently posting, spelling correctly, or follow the rules of the english language.

The more I think about it I will admit that my children do have thier moments and so, out of sisterly love, I will atempt to blog about the insanity that is my life with three kids.