Suffice it to say, things are looking up. I’m not sure if it’s less work vying for my attention. Or an answer to many prayers. Or the fact that I’ve been outwitted, outlasted, outplayed by my own kids too many times to count. Or what. But I find myself having way more patience these days.

Moving slower. Getting over things faster. Enjoying more. Retreating less. Understanding more. Yelling less. What a relief.

I know that all things have seasons. Especially all things having to do with children. And this could very well just be a particularly good, albeit fleeting season. But even if that’s the case, I will gladly take it.

Through a friend’s sharing of this article, it has come to my attention that I am an obnoxious over-achiever.

Sorry. Trust me, I never intended to be that mom.

So, for your good conscience, let me confess that just this week I used our Elf to threaten my own son.

You see, after he nastily retorted to Joann: “YOU are NAUGHTY. And the Elf on the Shelf will be watching YOU tonight…” I put that elf right up on Bastien’s curtain rod, glaring creepily down to instill fear in Bastien’s heart the MOMENT he woke up.

There. Feel better?
Tell you what – from here on, I promise to rat myself out as frequently as possible.

I’m a month late in proclaiming the good news:
NO MORE DIAPERS!
Hadley did indeed end up taking this project on herself. Blame it on being the second child. Or being stubborn as a mule.
After EACH of the first 90+ successful potties, she would cheer, clap and dance for herself. When I finally got around to trying to catch the victory dance on video, she was all: “What???”
So you’ll just have to take it from me, it was one of the cutest gosh darn things any kid has ever done.
Both kids at exactly 29 months. Must be some kind of record.

We passed the church on the way to the cider mill Saturday. They were setting up numerous bounce houses, tents and other Fun Things. Princess bounce houses!
This Sunday was going to be the Best Sunday Ever. Did I mention, it was On My Calendar?
The kids were EXCITED to go to church. A detail I was fully prepared to record in their baby books.

After the cider mill, we passed by the church again.
Kids were jumping in the bounce houses! People were eating in the tents! Must be the volunteers, we presumed as we hurried home to make our own lunch.
If even possible, we were MORE excited for the big event to come.

Late that night, we passed by once again.
Everything was gone. No more tents. No more bounce houses.
Just one giant lump in my throat.
Meanwhile, my kids were happily sleeping in their beds, visions of church inflatables bouncing in their heads. Blissfully unaware that their mother was the Biggest Idiot Who Ever Walked The Earth.

A new plan needed to be devised. And quick.
Enter the memory of the Great Pumpkin bounce house my children drooled over the week prior.
It instantly became the perfect bribe for “you better not get us paged out of church, OR ELSE.”

As it turns out, church was just perfect.
As it also turns out, bounce houses are a God’s gift to moms.

Miss Independent is currently into painting her own nails. (Obviously we’re using the term “nails” loosely here). She also likes to use all the colors. So thank God for the genius who invented kid’s nail polish that washes off everything (including the nails themselves) with just a little water.
PS. Yes, letting her do this still makes me cringe.

Have you ever had to keep your two-year-old and four-year-old confined to a table because a herding dog would otherwise chase them around and bite off their faces ?

Has your son ever tried to keep time to “Happy Birthday” with a spoon, only to end up swiping half the abundant, beautiful frosting onto the wool rug, your favorite skirt, and a few of the upholstered chairs?

Just wondering.

Since it was getting out of hand, and since I now have two doing art, the best I could come up with was to lay it out all over the kitchen, make Jim take pictures, pull out my very favorite pieces and then die a tiny death upon putting the rest in the trashcan.
And phew, am I glad he only went to preschool two days a week!

Not that there’s anything wrong with it.