Swimming pool

It was cold!

They both can't fit in there which is the ideal situation.  Too bad I don't have a second bucket.

Jack improvised by filling this push toy with water.  In case you're wondering, he didn't fit.

It hasn't been that hot yet, but my kids insist on playing in the water.  I've been too lazy to inflate our kiddie pool or go buy a plastic one so we've been improvising.  Usually I just give Cameron the hose and he'll squirt Jack, which is cheap entertainment until somebody's eyes get wet.  (Must get some goggles.)  If I'm feeling especially ambitious, I'll give them a small tub (see above) to play in. 

Stuff I didn't think about...going to the bathroom

I'd like to push my pride aside and slip on those Lisa Rinna Depend undergarments for the sole reason of not being able to go to the bathroom in public...with two kids.

I've been able to leave the house with two kids one in diapers and one in underwear.  The problem is not getting Cameron to pee, the problem is getting them to wait for me while I do.

Case in point...
I went solo with the two jumping beans to the local Jump N Jive (bounce house).  As if a uterine prolapse at the age of 30 wasn't enough, tack on recurrent UTIs and we have ourselves the making of a painful trip to the bathroom.  Wait I need to bring a 2 year old and a 1 year old?  Ha! 

 Cameron and Jack came with me into the bathroom stall since it's frowned upon to leave small children with strangers.  Public bathrooms make my skin crawl.  I am not one of those moms that lysols the whole damn thing before going in, but I wish they would go in right before me and clean it all up.  When I really think about it though, those bathrooms get cleaned more frequently than my own.  Imagine that.  So I have Cameron standing on my feet and I'm trying to make sure his shorts and underwear don't touch the tile.  The whole time I'm looking at the floor and Cameron is holding onto the toilet seat to brace himself.  What in the world?  I pull his arms up over his head as if germs can't survive at a certain height then Jack decides to wash his hands in Cameron's stream of pee.  You have got to be kidding me!!! 

Sadly, I figured I would just clean them up after my turn.  Cue disgusting stereotypical toddler behavior.  Jack crouches down to see what's on the other side of the stall, and I start pleading with him not to do it.  Please don't...and there he goes.  Down on all fours crawling under the stall.  Is it too much to ask for a stall that goes all the way to the floor?  I have him by the shirt dragging him back as I try to wrap things up.  (Ever try to wipe with your non-dominant hand?)  Now my little locksmith (Cameron) slides the lock across and there goes the door.  Yes, we were in the handicap stall so the door flies open and away from my reach.  Thank you, karma.  I realize I should not have been in the handicap stall.  I am now staring at my frazzled reflection in the mirror above the sink and watching my kids make their way out the stall covered in urine and toilet germs.  As I flush, Jack turns around, grins, and claps for me.  Just another day....oh wait that was only 5 minutes of our day.  

The zoo

Jack and Alex riding in style

Alex loved the animals

Cameron and Nanny taking a look at the giraffes.  This was the only animal he stopped to look at because it was Jacob's favorite.

Paw Paw Jim and Jack

We made it to the playground which is what Cameron thought was the "zoo."  It took a lot of bribes to leave there.

Waiting for the train.  This burger brought him out of a full blown sleepy tantrum explosion

Cameron and his nanny.

The Black Eyed Peas!

The expression, "All good things must come to an end," must have come from a mother with boys.  She totally got the concept that boys find a way to turn anything into a dangerous toy.  My kids should be toy testers because I swear they have given most things in our household a warning label.

The rain created such a slop fest outside that I decided to keep the kids inside for the morning.  Inside.  Just the thought makes my jaw tighten, my heart race, my forehead sweats and my ass checks clinch.  If you've seen Toy Story 3, the daycare scene (the one in the caterpillar room) that is my house.  Only there are just two kids who are distributing such a reign of terror.  The paint, markers and Cheeto finger prints are smeared on cream colored sofas and khaki shorts (mine to be specific).  The toys in the movies find ways to hide while my kids uncover toys I never knew we had.  Snot and tears are a part of daily life and are sometimes coming from me and not the kids. 

So back to being inside...  The goal is always to occupy minds and hands with an activity.  If I can keep them in the same space, I can intercept most bite marks and fist punches.  The kids picked noodles, which is fine with me because usually noodles will entertain for at least a half an hour.  I put down the blanket and pour out the dry noodles in a variety of shapes and sizes.  Theses little Italian staples put my kids into a calming sensory coma of texture.  I also notice the black eyed peas which I had thrown in there after a sorting activity.  No big deal.

We're on the floor playing when something orange catches my eye.  A freakin Cheeto!  I don't even remember the last time we had puffy Cheetoes in my house.  Is it possible for a crunchy Cheeto to somehow morph into its grander cousin given the heat and humidity of South Louisiana.  Hmmm...let me just leave the scientific investigation to the garbage can.  

"Ahhh choo!"  Cameron starts sneezing...a lot.  Did I give him his Claritin?  When is the last time I even washed that blanket?  

He walks into the kitchen with his nose pouring out snot and his eyes are tearing up.  He's not crying which means little brother is innocent for now.  He sneezes again and out comes a black eyed pea.  Now my andrenaline starts pumping.  

"How many peas did you swallow?" 
 "No, mama."

After further inspection it looks like an allergy attack. His eyes are starting to swell.  Something told me to check his nose and there it was...the BLACK EYED PEA BOOGER.  Dammit!!!  I call my mom to come over since I'm pissed and panicking at the same time.  After I've calmed down I decide to try blowing in his mouth to force that pea out.  (Disclaimer: I had actually heard of people doing this before.)  Sure enough I could see it so I used my surgical tools (a bobby pin) to carefully flick it out.  (Disclaimer: medical professionals don't really endorse this.)

2pm: "Ahh choo!"  Snot.  Tears.  You have got to be kidding me.  Cameron was asleep enough for me to shine a flash light in there, and in his other nostril was the faint resemblance of a black eyed pea. 

I tried as hard as I could to shoot that thing out but even my days of swimming breaststroke did not prepare my lungs for the kind of force needed to get that pea out.  Luckily the ENT was kind enough to squeeze him in after hours.  I had to take Jack with me who flashed a smile and in one swift movement pulled down all her clean, prepped tools.  As they tumbled to the floor, I couldn't help but think I would rather be elsewhere.  I'm sure the doctor thought the same thing.

She said I could either hold him or we could put him in a papoose.  "Papoose!"  She didn't even have to explain what it was.  I didn't need to hesitate to know that I would not be able to hold this child down a second time today.  So we strapped him down to a body board so that only his face was visible and she used an air compressor and a fancy bobby pin to retrieve the third and final black eyed pea.  

5:30pm.  Really?