Geez!

I really don't understand why kids behave one way with mommy and another way with daddy. Whats worse is the fact that its me that they seem to want to torture...

The Diva

     ts really interesting to see your children grow up and realize that the are nothing like you.  It happened with my first daughter when I noticed very early on that she has somehow neglected to inherit my bubbly personality and managed to get all of her DNA from her very subdued father.  I can and will, talk to anyone, about anything, while she, on the other hand, has a hard time saying "hello" at a new introduction.  So, needless to say, I understood early on in my parenting career , that I should not expect to create little carbon copies of myself. Nevertheless, I am shocked constantly by the behavior of my third daughter.  She is, in a word, a true DIVA.
     To be honest, I really think that word is overused, hackneyed even, but it fits her perfectly.  Shiloh must have her nails painted on a near daily basis.  Her favorite hangout is the nail salon, and if you get her polish wrong, a bitch-fit she will throw!  I have caught her posing in the mirror when she thinks no one is watching and every shot of her on my cell phone is reminiscent of a centerfold.  As if that isn't enough, she sleeps with a purse in her hand that is fully equipped with lip gloss, nail polish, a bald baby doll, and her wallet.  Maybe this doesn't sound strange to anyone else except me, but for starters, she is 4!!!!
     How can such a little person have so much attitude? For instance, one particularly chilly day, while putting on her dress, I reminded her that she needed to wear tights so as not to get cold.  She looked at me as though I was a complete idiot and responded,"I am not wearing tights mom! I just had my toes done!"  When I finished cleaning the wax out of my ears to make sure I had heard her correctly, she grabbed her purse and headed towards the door.  I just followed behind shaking my head.  I mean, I am certainly not a diva and I know she didn't get this from her father.  Could it be that she reached all the way bath to my mother, the ultimate diva, for her personality.  If so, world beware, here comes trouble...

WOOOOOOOWZERS!

After hearing your name screamed at the top of a three year olds lungs, at a decible so ear piercing that it silently shatters your eardrums and sends canines two counties away running for cover, its easy to tune your children out. This is exactly what I did earlier today. Sure I tried to ask her what was wrong from where I was sitting on the couch, but she never answered so I just clicked away on my computer till I heard banging. I raced to the room to see what had happened to find my two yr. old, killian, had locked her sister in the closet and was sitting in front of its door seated on a large wooden chair. The smirk on her face disolved into a look of fear when she saw me and as I went to grab her off of the chair, she yelled,"I dinint do noffin' Mom!" SMH...woooooowzers

Cat flavored cheese.

Nothing gives me greater joy than watching my children dive into a heaping plate of cheesy nachos! I mean, really, whats more awesome than sweet mulatto faces covered in processed orange sauce? Maybe the endless "sweet" melody of  gas that would be escaping their bedroom room later that night.  When you have toddlers, you can just expect that there will me many times that they will do things so terrible with food that it would make the creators of "Fear  Factor" cringe, but somethings they do things that make even a seasoned mother feel the urge to regurgitate lunch. Today, I experienced one of those things.
     Our cat, Jasmin, was lurking around the bowl of nacho cheese like she did with every one of the girls snacks. I figured that by now, they knew how to shoo her away and that I would be safe going to take a quick potty break. I was wrong. I re-entered the room to find the black cats face covered with synthetic orange goop, and the two middle children still happily dipping white corn tortilla chips into the bowl. I wretched in my mouth a little and shrugged my shoulders. I mean, what could I do now? They had already enjoyed their cat-flavored cheese and they just looked so happy. Should a mother deprive her children of happiness? No sir! So I sank back onto the couch to do some more home work when the image of Jasmin's orange face popped back into my head. I would at the very least wipe off every ones face when they were finished. Now, back to chapter 3. yummmmmm...

Poop stew..

So last night, killian decided that the toilet (16 inches away) was much to far from our bathtub. The effort it would require to lift her chubby little legs out of the warm water was far to great thus, her only option was to empty her bowels into the tub. While this may have seemed like the logical choice at the time, it proved to be not only illogical, but rather revolting. My three year old, shiloh, came racing into the living room screaming,"Poop mommy! Killy pooped in the bath! EEEEEWWWWWWW."  So, I put down my laptop and ventured into the bathroom to find Killian sobbing and trying desperately to run away from her own floating excrement (turds). "Get it out Mommy!", she hollered. Attempting to contain my laughter and disgust, I scooped the poop out of the bath and flushed it. "Thanks momma!", they shouted, as the merrily sank back down into the poop stew. I shook my head, fought the urge to vomit, and proceeded to finish my homework. "I'll just rinse them really well", I thought to my self. Really, really well.

The trouble...

So killian keeps getting bitten by a  kid at school and one time he left his four little teeth marks in her precious arm! Do they have boot camp for violent two year olds? To be continued...