Chocolate Puss and Pretty Smile

They are cute but man they test my patience almost 20 times a day.

The boy; well..he has gotten into throwing things. You know, the kind of things that come crashing down and land on his sister's head.

Also, he has started jumping off the dining room table. Where do they get this shit from?

Then there is the hitting. He used to just yell now he is hitting me. WHAT???!!! Oh hell no! He is going to be black and blue before this lesson is learned. There will be no mommy hitting.

These days...he is saying his prayers, watching Lazy town and working out with Sportacus. Talking about his friends at school, playing with his Little People village and pretend play food. He also needs a ton of things in order to go to bed. There are three to four books, Twinkle from Higgletown heroes, his Wiggle dolls, his blanket, some play food, and recently a box with Santa Claus on it and a painted wood rainbow that he put inside it, that he had to have from Michaels Craft Store. No idea how he sleeps with all this stuff clanking around but he needs it all or will not go to sleep. Last night we couldn't find Twinkle and he stood in the middle of his room biting his blanket until we found her. Kids!

The girl; she does everything he does, so I am waiting for the day I see her standing on the table ready to take her first leap into her first cast.

She is 19 months and 19 pounds with the lungs of a 250 pound women. Not sure where the screaming comes from but man this Banshee girl can break glass.

These days she loves to hug, give kiss on the mouth, play with anything her brother is, sing her alphabet song, watch Elmo, dance, and be read to. She can count to 12 and can name most things in a picture book. Lately we are working on colors and letters and talking on the walkie talkie phones that her Godmother sent over.

I Am In Love

Tonight while flipping channels I fell upon TLC's special about Kenadie Jourdin-Bromley.
Kenadie has a very rare condition known as Primordial Dwarfism. You can read all about her on her official site here
















She is known as the littlest angel and I believe she is a gift from God. While watching the show I flipped on my laptop and Yahoo'd Kenadie's name. They have a donation link on their site to help pay for Kenadie's various expenses. They take Paypal and I made a donation without a second thought. If you are as touched by beautiful Kenadie as I was, please make a donation to help her parents take the best care of her as possible.






I have never seen anyone so special in my life and I am totally in love with her.

Kenadie baby girl, I will think of you everday. May God bless you and keep you in the palm of his hand.

Me and my Rugrats

Tonight I took a bunch of pictures of me and the babies. Why am I standing in the kitchen? Why couldn't I find a more appropriate backdrop/props for the photos other than the random empty beer box or the blue garbage pail? And...lets not even discuss the overcrowded refrigerator door!

I can never get the Precocious Toddler (I think it is time to change his name - he is now 3 1/2 years old and so far from a toddler) to look at the camera long enough to take his picture. He was loving the sound the camera was making on timer (it's a coyote) and he wanted to "DO IT AGAIN!"

Halloween 2006

This Halloween started out on the biggest friggin big, fat, sour note possible. The Precocious Toddler was rushed into a costume and force fed a slice of pizza after his late speech therapy session so that I could catch up with a bunch of friends and their offspring to go trick-or-treating. He had no time to transition and I had no time to forewarn him about what we were about to do. As I flip open the trunk, open the carriage, unleash the kids from their carseats and snatch the girl to slam her into the carriage, I am shouting, "come on guys, let's go, let's go, chop, chop, move move move"!!! My son is following directions like a trooper.

I take off running, pushing the carriage with one hand and dragging the boy by with the other down the street. OK...time to slow down and have fun right?!

As we approach the group, the boy spots a wagon with two of his little friends in it. He has a wagon at home..he loves being in it..he wants in too. He asks to get in, I thrust a bag in his hand, give him a pat on the back and say, "Go, go, baby..say trick-or-treat and thank you. Go with your friends. Go get some candy."

Well, maybe for another kid this would have sounded like fun but not for my kid. He wanted in the wagon and he wanted in now. He starts jumping up and down and SHOUTING that he wants in. He is screaming at the top of his lungs about the wagon and throwing himself around. I am watching the cars, pushing the carriage, making sure he doesn't get run over by a car or crack his head open on the pavement and walking with now 250 other people all vying for the most, best candy.

We walk up to the first house and there is a 80ish year old women handing out candy. My son is screaming and trying to run. As I work myself, the trashing, screaming toddler and my carriage up the little path, passing people who already got candy and in front of those who want candy the women says something that I don't quite hear. I say "what?" I get closer, hold out the boys bag, tell him above his screaming to say trick-o-treating and thank you, she says it again. I hear something that sounds like..."Is he a little retardo?" I say, "What?" I let go of my son's hand and the carriage thinking I am going to drop fists with this old bat who has now highly insulted me and my son. I look her up and down thinking..B'otch, you have no idea what I have just gone through to get him to this damn door..get ready to bleed. I can take her! Shit she's only weighs about her age. As I am contemplating how I beat the piss out of her without my kids needing therapy for the next 15 years she says..."Is he Lucy Ricardo?" I unclenched my fists and after giving a weak smile, and a "yeah" drag the kid and the carriage back down the path to join the group.

My son is still asking..ok wait not asking...Screaming, thrashing, crying, jumping, throwing himself to the ground and hyperventilating that he wants the wagon. The group tries to make room. There is none!

I turn and ask if he wants to go home. He screams no! Do you want candy? No! Do you want to walk? No? As I am wishing I had brought some holy water to douse him with; I tell my friends to go ahead I am going to walk back to the car. Pushing the carriage with my tits..thank God they are good for something other than nursing. I half carry/drag the kid. He is all of 3.5 feet tall and 41 pounds. I am 4' 11". I can't carry this thrashing kid. I put him down. I tell him to walk. He screams! I gave my very first biff to the back of his head. Well I think it was a biff anyway. I am not sure if it was executed properly and I am not sure if it is considered a biff when it is the back of the head and not the front. It was my pinky and my ring finger but it felt like a biff.

The boy gets into the car after 25 minutes of dragging and clench teeth quiet yelling (my throat still hurts). He is out of breath and so am I! My daughter hasn't even made a peep. Thank God for small favors.

We get home and a friend and her family are walking up my driveway. I tell her candy is on the steps help herself. I tell her about my outing and she walks over to the car. Says, "Come here honey" to the boy. He goes to her. Takes her hand and proceeds to the end of the driveway.

What??? We are going trick-or-fucking-treating? I am shocked. She takes him to the first house holding onto his and her own sons hand. She is whooppping and running with them. I run back to the car. Grab my carriage, the girl, flashlights and glowsticks and proceed to have an awesome time with a well, mannered, well behaved precocious toddler. What the F!!!!!

So..needless to say..what started out as a shitty evening turned into something quite wonderful. Minus the pictures. After the first 45 minutes of my evening I was to drained to pull out a camera. If you know me..you know I love my pictures.