Why Do I Torture Myself?

Today I had to go out shopping. And I had to take all 3 kids. It was unavoidable because tomorrow is Bryan's birthday and I needed to finish up some birthday shopping. And I was dreading this shopping trip it to say the least.

I have been very spoiled for the last three months, because whenever I really needed to go out shopping I would just go and leave all of the kids home with Bryan. See, unemployment has some benefits to it - NO SHOPPING WITH KIDS

Anyway, we get going and store #1 was fine. No problems and they were pretty well behaved. Just 100 questions or so from Jace.

Store #2 was Old Navy. Things were fine, the boys received suckers from a worker and they were just sitting on the base of a clothing rack, sucking away and being quiet. And then I hear Cole say, "Mom, my thumb's stuck." Old Navy has display racks made from galvanized metal with holes in them that look like the pole of a STOP sign. Get it? Well, Cole decided to stick his thumb in there because of course it's a perfect fit.

I immediately told him not to pull on it because I actually know someone who had a son that did the exact same thing at an Old Navy, and it cut his thumb all up and he had to get stitches. So I grabbed my lotion out of my purse and started rubbing it around his little thumb and pulling gently. It wasn't coming and he started screaming. I tried to remain calm but I was getting slightly panicked because I couldn't get it out. I flagged down a worker for some help and was asking her for any other ideas when luckily his thumb came out. Thank goodness it wasn't cut. Cole was upset and his thumb was red and irritated, but he was fine.Seriously, though?

Okay Old Navy, it's time for some new clothing racks WITHOUT toddler sized finger holes.

Then it was on to store #3 (I know, I'm pushing it at this point). My anxiety and stress level has raised considerably from store two to store three. In store #3 the boys are wandering off, chasing each other around the clothing racks, punching, and wrestling in the store. How many times do I have to ask them to stay by me and to keep their hands to themselves? Ugh.

We then traveled home took some naps and then went back out to one more store because I still didn't find what I needed for Bryan's birthday. At this store of course Jace has to use the bathroom so I sent him into the bathroom and told him to do his thing. Well, about 8 minutes later he's still not done and the toilet is flushing over and over and over. The door is locked and who knows what's going on in there? I end up having to go in there to help him finish up and I stress about that because that then leaves the other two out in the hallway by themselves and we already know what Cole's done today when I wasn't looking.

Blah, blah, blah, right? Shopping with all of the kids is not my idea of fun and it does not show off my best mothering skills. I use to be great at- calm, collected, having fun with the kids -when the boys were younger, but throw in another kiddo and two older boys and things change, and not for the better.

And to cap off the day, at dinner Jace told Bryan, "We got you some awesome shirts, but I'm not going to tell you what they are." Then when we were kneeling down for family prayers Jace prayed, "Grateful that we could buy Dad clothes for his birthday."

Awesome. Thanks, Bud.

6 Months Old

Per requests - and really just because I need to - here is a little update on Baby Lily.

Unbelievable as it may be, she is now 6 months old! It is unfathomable how fast time goes by and how much she has grown. She still remains to be an amazing baby and incredibly easy. Just like she has since she was eight weeks old, she still sleeps 12 hours a night. I can simply lay her in her crib at nap and bedtime and she will turn to her right side, suck her thumb, and put herself to sleep.

The person that makes her laugh the most is Jace. She thinks Jace is the funniest person ever and laughs so easily when he talks to her and sings, "Hi, Happy Girrrrrrl!" She loves to talk and squeal and make herself known. I think she knows she has to remind us that she is part of our family because she is so easy and quiet at times we kind of forget she's around.

I am finally starting to become more consistent in feeding her solids. With the third child I have become lazy and busy with other children that I have not pushed feeding her solids. Nursing her is just so much easier and faster than spoon feeding her a whole jar of food. From what I do feed her, she is a great eater and seems to like everything. Maybe she won't be a picky eater and can be Bryan's little egg-liking buddy.

Lily is now 14.9 lbs (25%) and 25 inches long (50%). She still is a little peanut to me and I have a hard time realizing that she really is 6 months old. She is rolling all over the place and is getting close to sitting up. She has one bottom tooth in and the second one is close to coming through as well. She will lay on the ground playing with toys or sit in her bouncer or saucer and entertain herself until she is tired.

I simply adore Lily and love the joy and happiness she brings into our family's life. She is a ray of sunshine and her gummy smile puts all of us in a better mood. We are so blessed to have her as part of the family.

Daddy's Boy

Cole is a "Daddy's Boy." Plain and simple. He cries and throws incredible fits when Bryan has to leave the house for work or meetings. When he's hurt or upset he runs to dad. If Bryan scolds or disciplines him, that doesn't matter; he turns around and runs right into Bryan's arms. Like I said, a daddy's boy.

However, lately I've been questioning this because there are certain pieces of evidence that make wonder differently.

If he is a daddy's boy, why is it me that he decides to run and puke on - for this has happened on two separate occasions. The first time he was talking to Bryan and told him he didn't feel well and Cole said he wanted me. He came over to me, sat on my lap and puked all over me: down my shirt, in my lap, all over our friend's couch. The second time was last week when Cole had been throwing up in the night. I put him in bed with Bryan so Bryan could run him to the bathroom if needed to throw up, and I slept on the couch because I, myself, was sick. Well, shortly after this arrangement Cole wandered into the family room looking for me and started gagging. As I scooped him up in my arms and ran him to the sink, half of his puke ended up in my hair and on my clothes.

Second piece of evidence: if he's such a daddy's boy then why is it me that he cries out for in the middle of the night when he has wet his bed and he needs to be bathed and cleaned up? Just last night Bryan woke me up and said, "Cole's crying for you." What did I do? I immediately went in to his room to check for a wet bed/pants. Yup, he wet the bed. Lucky me. And how did I know the bed would be wet? Because he only cries out for me in the middle of the night when he has an accident.

So I'm thinking, maybe this whole daddy's boy thing is just a ruse Cole is playing on Bryan to make him feel better. Because in all truth, I know Cole's heart ...puke.... and other bodily fluids....truly belongs to me.