3 More Days 'til Daddy Comes Home.

And it's none too soon...

So Friday night, Erin, Angie and Beth came over.  My mom babysat the kids until bedtime.  Adult time - what is that??? When my mom brought them home to go to bed, I put Dalton to bed and then came back to get Darby.  I wished I'd had my camera handy, because I came out to find her holding court with my friends. She was totally working the room. There's a reason I call her Hillary.

Saturday morning we had a birthday party. Way too early. Bounce house place. Took a while to get Dalton on board, but once he was, all bets were off - they had a blast.

Eventually we went into the party room. It was a bit embarassing because they had pizza, berries, chips, cake and ice cream.  It was great. But Dalton was BY FAR the last kid eating.  And I don't mean he was the kid eating slow. he was the kid who had twelfths. He had pizza, and 4 rounds of berries, 3 rounds of veggie sticks, cake and 3 rounds of ice cream. It was so embarassing. I had to put veggie sticks in a plastic glove so we could take them to go in order to make him leave. And this is the kid whose ribs are showing. So is that what that mythical "Metabolism" thing they speak of is??

After that, we went home. I had thought we might go to the splash park in the afternoon. The kids were so crazy all afternoon though I just couldn't do it. It was exhausting. So much playing and screaming and fighting and running and mess. I just couldn't pull it together to leave the house.  It did give Darby the opportunity to show her over the top devotion to Stella though.  And for Dalton to try on his new bowtie. (Stella is not attacking Dalton btw - she is trying to kiss the inside of his mouth...)


Sunday morning began in a vaguely more civilized manner. Still exhausting, but somewhat better. Then it ramped up again. Oh man. These kids. The energy. The screaming. It's just not fair to a mere mortal. We were ridiculously close to a firehouse drop-off today. I managed to refrain, but there was an unfortunate amount of shouting. And trying on of shoes.

In the afternoon we met friends at the pool/splash park. They loved it. Dalton was in his element. Diving, splashing, swimming, going underwater, puking...wait...what?? Yeah. Poor boy spent so much time diving underwater that he managed to swallow enough water to puke up his lunch of macaroni and cheese. In the baby pool. And twice on the deck. I went to the snack bar to get paper towels to clean it up. In the meantime the lifeguards were on it. They did a fantastic job of cleaning the deck. They swept, and used soap, and swept again, and dumped several buckets of water. The deck was amazingly clean. I didn't have the heart to tell them it was also in the pool. At that point the damage was already done.


We had a good time though.  After the "unfortunate incident",  we kept Dalton out for a while and he was fine.  After a while the bottomless pit re-emerged and we ended up at the snack bar for their first ever snow cones. Those went somewhat well...


When we finally decided to leave, we walked all the way out to the car (it was quite a ways).  I put Darby in, and then Dalton hit me with the dreaded " I need to go potty NOW".  So we braved a public exposure ticket and he peed on the grass in front of the car. He's 2. It is what it is. Thankful it wasn't Darby...

That night was a bit tamer. I have no idea what this video is about really, but the girl does know how to work a stage. I love that it looks like Kermit is listening to her.

Later that night, I finally got them in bed. And then out comes Dalton. I had given him water in his silver water bottle. He didn't want it in his silver water bottle. He wanted it in the green one. Fine. I put ice and water in his green one. No. he didnt't want ice water, he just wanted water. I dumped it out and put in water. He took a sip. He wants ice water. Are you F'ing kidding me???? OMG. This is why Mommy is losing her mind.

This is also why Mommy didn't talked to Daddy in Michigan for 3 days straight. I keep waiting for the interruptions to stop before I called.  By the time they did, Mommy was asleep on the couch. It's a sad, sad state of affairs...

Monday I needed to go pick Dalton up from swimming lessons. I brought my camera with the long lens to get some sneaky pics, but he spotted me immediately. He was sooo happy though. I did still get a couple.


When the going gets tough I find comfort in looking back at happy pictures of happy times. I know the people at school think I'm the crazy lady who insists on daily pictures of her kids on the windowsill. It's actually not me - they insist on it. It does help that I like them though...

Whoever Let the Dogs Out is in Trouble

Every morning now we have to take a picture on the windowsill.  Now that Darby has morning swim lessons, Dalton is rockin' it solo. He will not let it go. These are from Mon. and Tues.

As a kind of let-down from this weekend, Dalton was sick Monday.  I took him to school while Darby had her morning swim lesson (my mom took her), but we were only there a few minutes before I realized we weren't staying. Surprisingly, you would never be able to tell from this adorable picture that we were 10 minutes from going home sick. If I was a Dance Mom, he would be my greatest accomplishment. 

So Monday, Dalton came home after his swim lesson, with my Mom, and when he saw Darby and I outside w/ the bikes he was fine for a few minutes and then he lost his sh*t. The garbage truck again. Not that it was within even a week of coming around. It wasn't even just the bikes. We had to take in the water bottles and my phone and the sunscreen and the bug spray.  Apparently the garbage men live in a Mad Max post-apocalyptic world.

Once I calmed him down a bit I took him out and showed him the spot on the ground that was the magic spot the garbage men would pick up from (manhole cover).  Apparently now I need to make sure that if we put out big trash, it needs to sit on only that spot.  It seemed to calm him a bit, but we'll see. I was just thankful there was a clear spot I could point to.

Their latest favorite song is "Who Let the Dogs Out".  I am unclear who dredged up 2000, but I will find them and I will kill them. This was our pre-bedtime jam session. It ended up being a lesson in videography for Darby.

At Long Last - the "Boathouse"

Way back in January, Darby started talking about wanting to go to Michelle's "Boathouse" and riding in her boat.  Obviously, the climate was not ideal for that then, but this weekend, at long last, her dream came true.  We got down there earlier than Michelle, splashed on a gallon of sunscreen and bug spray and played outside in the sandbox and swingset. 

On a side note - the sand in the sandbox was green and with all the suncreen they were greased up with, at one point, Dalton had quite the Incredible Hulk look about him.

Unfortunately for my poor, deprived children, I rarely give them popsicles. There are reasons:

1. Most have a lot of sugar, the injestion of which I try to keep down to a dull roar (yes, I know I can make my own out of real fruit - I have had some of those untouched in my freezer for months)
2. They're messy and because my children are unpracticed at eating them, cleanup usually requires a hose.
3. But mostly though, it's just because they have never really made it into our snack repetoire.

This weekend though, the popsicles came out front and center pretty much immediately and they became Dalton's weekend obsession.  He got it into his head and he repeated, pretty much constantly as his personal mantra, "I get 2 popsicles and Darby gets 4 popsicles". I could only assume that was due to their ages. I was never able to get a full answer as to why though. When I asked him if that meant I got 44 popsicles, my comment was met with a blank stare.

The other delicacy they got introduced to this weekend was s'mores. We had been supposed to do them on our beach trip, but that pesky Tropical Storm kind of squashed that idea. They enjoyed holding the marshmallows on sticks over the fire immensely.
 For about 30 seconds... 

Michelle and I finally ended up making them for them. Dalton wanted no part of it.  I finally convinced him to try a bite, but that was all I could get him to do. Darby made a somewhat more galant (albeit dramatic) effort, but I believe in the end it was actually Michelle and I who ended up eating them. Sometimes I don't even know who these children are...

The next morning we rose at dawn and waited about 3-4 hours for Michelle to get up at a reasonable hour. We made especially sure to make the absolute most noise and mess possible during that time frame. After Mommy tortured them by making them eat another breakfast (a first one for myself and Michelle) we were ready to head out.

Dalton DID NOT like the fact that Mommy had to stay out of the boat while Michelle cranked it up so that I could drop the cradle into the water. I guess he had recognized how cute Michelle thought he was and was afraid she was going to run away with him to International waters. Once I was in the boat though, all was well. Despite her initial death grip on the rail, Darby soon loosened up, even venturing out to the front of the boat by herself several times. The last time we actually got Dalton to go with her. They enjoyed the ride, but it was super-hot and we were starting to run out of our giant stash of snacks after being gone one hour, so we didn't last long.

After the boat ride, Michelle turned on the sprinkers, which was a rousing success. These 2 are definite water-babies. 

Michelle made the comment several times during the weekend that it was unfortunate they are such unhappy kids...

Flying Through the Air with the Greatest of Ease

A new tradition has developed recently since Dalton never makes it in time to breakfast in the cafe anymore.  Every morning they want me to lift them onto the windowsill and take their picture. For some reason - known only to them - I also have to name off different foods while I'm taking the pictures. Very little of what I do nowadays makes any sense.

Tuesday night we played a little "superheroes" and did some breakdancing/gymnastics. Just an average night.

Wednesday morning they were still feeling a bit extra-spunky, so they went to school in their super-hero capes.  Sometimes you've just got to let your freak flag fly.

Thursday was diving board day at swim class. Dalton has gone off the diving board at our house, but he almost drowned my Dad in the process. I kind of wondered how they did it in swim class. It's a much more controlled method than our impromptu - "Hey Dalton - jump to Pa!" He went off twice though, no problem, so it seems like a good one.

Late in the week Amazon blessed us with 2 very large boxes.  I really can't fathom why we bought them beds. The were infinitely happier going to bed in a box in the hall than they have ever been going to sleep in their own beds. At some point the boxes are going to have to go bye-bye - so people can get in the front door - but for now they are a constant source of amusement.