Another muffin breakfast Saturday...

... another appearance by the Muffin Top Monster. The "Monster" is getting increasingly bold. This time he dug his grubby monster paws into THREE muffins while Daddy was out for a run and Mommy was at the computer.

But Hayley? Oh, she saw the Muffin Top Monster and was able to give us a full report again, only this time she was MUCH more confident in her story. Apparently she's realized that we're big enough suckers that there's no reason for her to hide. Should I be concerned about how easy this story is for her to tell?? I told her that we needed to call the police and she dutifully and enthusiastically agreed to tell the police officer exactly what happened and would also give him a full description of the hairy, pink perpetrator with sharp teeth. Is lying to the police a felony or a misdemeanor?

The Muffin Top Monster

We've got a monster. A muffin top monster to be exact. I'd never heard of a Muffin Top Monster before, but apparently Hayley knows all about them. In a nutshell, Muffin Top Monsters eat muffin tops... while their bakers are in another room... and then they hide when the Daddy baker tells the Mommy baker that "something" has nibbled the top of the muffin that was sitting on top of the counter. I suppose the fact that they hide is a good thing though. Because at least we know that Muffin Top Monsters are aware that they aren't supposed to be eating muffin tops from the counter. It's good to have a monster with a conscience.

New Kid

We've adopted. And I'm doing my best to not think of our new "baby" as a red headed stepchild. But it's oh, SO HARD when this new kid has completely robbed me of any remaining coolness points I had left after the birth of Todd and Hayley. Todd and Hayley on the other hand think the new family member is the best thing ever. But they are young and foolish and I'm sure in 10 years the new kid will embarrass them as much as it does me. Meet the new kid:


Mark my words, my next car will be a two-door Ferrari.

To put it lightly, this was an emotional experience for me. Particularly since I swore up and down that I'd NEVER drive a minivan. But really, what's one more meal in the seemingly endless dinners of crow that compose parenthood? And, I've been able to provide some entertainment for those around me. Just days after bringing home my new baby, my parents sent me this lovely package in the mail:Thanks Mom and Dad! It only took me an hour to dry my tears and remind myself that my next car would be a Ferrari. I seem to be sliding down a very slippery slope... please, someone come slap me if you catch me wearing "Mom jeans."

My next car will be a Ferrari. My next car will be a Ferrari. My next car will be a Ferrari. My next car....

Patience is a virtue

... that we did NOT pass along to our offspring. I give you Exhibit A:

Monday morning Todd and I spent with Hayley at her school, participating in the 2010 Trikeathon to benefit St. Judes Children's Hospital. The kids spent the morning decorating the trikes and bikes before heading outside to do some laps in the parking lot. Memorable quotes from this year's Trikeathon:

Hayley (as we drove to school): "Mommy, Trikeathons ARE NOT for babies." (As she glared at Todd)

Grady - Hayley's classmate who she is in constant competition with for Alpha Dog status (To Todd when Todd walked up to Grady's bike): "Hey kid, this is MINE!" (To which I will add, 22 month old Todd is the same size as 4 year old Grady!!!!)

Hayley snags a good luck hug
And, they're off!
Hanging with the fellas
Todd, daydreaming about his shot at next year's Trikeathon!
Hayley pestering Grady

The Boy

For almost four years now, I've been certain that Hayley would do me in, be the end of me, finish me off. But now... I'm pretty certain that "The Boy" will be impetus the for my demise. Death by cardiac arrest. Because The Boy? The Boy does things that absolutely shock, amaze, and befuddle me. At the ripe old age of 22 months, The Boy has given me a glimpse inside the logic and inner workings of the male mind. And let me tell you ladies, it's a scary place.

For example... we've had some "issues" with The Boy and his penchant for throwing things in the trash can. His favorite thing to throw away are brand new pajama tops. After already sending one new pajama top to our local landfill, I caught him in the act... well, okay, after the act (and a few banana peels, coffee grinds, and other assorted trash nastiness). However, I was able to salvage the new monkey pajama set. Well aware of my little deviant's tendencies, after undressing The Boy the other night I gave him his clothes and told him to go put them in the hamper, which he knows is located in the closet of our master bedroom. I watched him like a hawk as he ran past the trash can and into our bedroom. Feeling pretty darn pleased with my abilities to train my offspring in the ways of proper clothing disposal, I went about the rest of my before bed chores. After feeding the kids and getting them ready for bed, I hustled off to my room to grab something when I saw this: And thought, "Oh no.... tell me he didn't." But oh. Yes. He. Did. The Boy? Tossed his pants in the toilet. The Boy 1 Mommy 0

And then there was this morning, when I walked into the playroom to find the chair in a peculiar relation to the ball pit. I then witnessed The Boy do something (below) that required me to take several deep breaths and accept the fate that I will most likely be visiting an emergency room with The Boy in the near future. I can't tell you how thrilled I am that The Boy is teaching his sister to do things like this!!

Why do I bother?

For the past few weeks, we've been trying to slowly transition Todd to a "big boy bed." Our grand plan is to have both the kids share a room. Our reasons for this are twofold. We definitely want them to "bond," and feel like sharing a room for a few years while they are young will be great for their relationship, along with teaching them the fine art of sharing and consideration for others. (I know, delusions of grandeur... quite possible.) The second reason, is simply space. We've got 4 bedrooms in this house. Mom and Dad have called dibs on one, we've reserved one as an office/guest room, and we'd really like to have one room dedicated to be a playroom and homeschooling room where we can put a large table, lots of books, and just have a place the kids can go and do their own thing.

So, we'd bought Todd and Big Boy Bed and placed it in Hayley's room. He was pretty excited about it, but when the time came, he was NOT about to sleep in it. We decided that it was better to move his crib into Hayley's room and at least get him used to sleeping in her room and then try to move him back to the Big Boy Bed. So this weekend while Brian moved the crib, I spent several hours going through toys in Todd's baby room (the playroom). I sorted everything, matched toys back up, etc. The room was sparkling clean and had it's fung shui going on. Now, I am a realist and I totally didn't expect that the toys would stay sorted, but I really didn't expect that leaving Todd unattended for 5 minutes while I helped Hayley get dressed would result in this:
Apparently he was trying to find his Elmo phone!! Why do I bother??