7? 13? 16? I don't even know anymore

The 7 year old is...well, he's 7. He's mouthy and if you tell him the sky is blue he'll tell you it's not. He argues about every.single.thing. It doesn't matter what we say or what we do, he just HAS to have the last word and has to argue about something. I realize that he gets this from me and when he looked a HH the other day, and exclaimed
SERIOUSLY, DADDY?!?!?!
all I could was was laugh. I mean, seriously?! I could feel HH glaring at me but I couldn't help it. Other things I've heard this week include "So, how DOES a baby get in your belly?" or how about "You just don't care about much, do you mommy?" This was when I told him I didn't care what his brother was doing, to worry about himself. 

However, I have to say the best bad parenting and yet best story of the week was when he was going on and on about who knows what and HH mumbled a bit louder then he should have "jesus christ kid" and without missing a beat we her the reply: "Stop calling me Christ!!!" Again, I fell in to a fit of laughter because again, what else was I to do?! He then proceeded to yell at us to stop laughing at him. Ah, being a parent is fun times, fun times indeed. 

Oh and for the record, we don't normally say Jesus Christ, ever, but for whatever reason it's coming flying out twice in the past week. I fully expect a phone call from school any day now.  

After 2 you'd think it would stop.

So, when are you having another one?

Another margarita? Now, thanks.
Another cupcake? I'll have that with my rita, I think.
Another haircut? Yea, I really should make an appointment.
Another human being emerge from my vagina? Um, not.going.to.happen.

So please, please for the love of all things holy, stop asking. 

No, I don't need to have a girl. Yes, I drool over adorable pink hats and patent leather shoes...but no, I am not going to "go for 3" just to see if I will have the opportunity to max out my Target card on adorable little baby girl sun dresses. 

I love babies, I do. I love my boys. I do not NEED or WANT another one. My car? It fits 2 kids nicely. My house? Yep, fits 2 nicely. I have 2 hands, one for each kid while crossing the street. My paycheck? Yep, it's good for 2 kids. 


If you want to have more, go for it. More power to ya. Really. I think kids are great, I think big families are amazing. I am in awe of the parents who can pull it of...truly, I am. I am just not one of them. 


After the 2nd child you would THINK it would get better. I mean, everyone expects you to have a second...so of course they annoy the hell out of you ask when you are going to start trying. I'm not sure why people think this is acceptable. I mean, it's not like I go up to random people and ask if they plan on having sex that night....so why is it when you have kids it's suddenly okay to ask when you plan on banging your husband and getting knocked up again? 
Why is it that since I have 2 boys it automatically means we should have another baby? I'm not going to lie, my heart wasn't 100% sold on not having anymore until recently. My head, yep it's been on board for about 2 years now. My heart? Not so much. 
Until I thought I might be pregnant, and I was scared.to.death. Way more scared then I was the first time around when I was unmarried, living with my boyfriend who had an unstable job. I went into panic mode and literally did a happy dance when not 1 but THREE tests showed I was certainly not sharing my body with another human being.

So, just to put this subject to rest. We are not having anymore babies. We are not going to try for a girl...and I will not be held responsible for my actions if certain family members do not stop asking!
 

100 weeks

I get these emails that tell me things like "Thing 2 is 100 weeks old! How is he doing" and then it goes on to tell me all the things my son is most certainly NOT doing.

Like talking.

He spits out a few words when it suits him, he signs when it suits him, but in general he babbles, yells, points and then laughs at you. He just started shaking his head no, want to know how I found out? He was in time out (yes, we've started time outs already...more on that later) and when I asked for a hug he looked at me and shook his head no. I thought certainly it was a mistake, so I asked in my sweetest mommy voice "Can mommy have a hug" and he, very pointedly, shook his head no. Hmmm.
I did manage to get my hug..and went on his merry way.

As for the time outs, I'm not going to lie I thought everyone that said "sure, we started time outs at 18 months" was on crack. I mean really, what 18 month old that can't talk and still doesn't realize that you aren't supposed to chew on pennies is going to understand time out? Well in the past few months we've had a serious issue with throwing, mainly Sir Crazy throwing toys at his brothers head. Now, I'm not going to lie, I turn and laugh because it's usually well deserved...but, not exactly something we want him to think is acceptable when we're, say, at the playground. Finally I did time out. 1.5 minutes on the step.
He screamed.
He cried.
He hated me.
He climbed off the step, I put him back. Super Nanny ain't got nothin' on me!

The next time...he did the same thing, but it wasn't as bad.

Tonight? He sat on the step with minimal crying but gave us puppy dog sad face eyes the whole time. He then took the bowl of cheerios he had earlier smacked out of my hand and sat down to munch on them happily.

So okay...at 100 weeks old, maybe he gets it.

Oh...and for the record, who the hell counts by weeks once your past, I don't know, 12.

Has it really been 10 days?

Wow I'm a sorry excuse for a blogger.

You'd think I'd have some really good post planned too, but I don't. I have the following nonsense.

~At dinner the other night HH and I were discussing foods that you can't deep fry or cover in cheese and be delish. We didn't come up with many, other then some that just wouldn't hold up well to deep frying (watermelon). So yea, pretty much everything tastes better deep fried or covered in cheese (or in the case of things like french fries, both!) This is generally what our dinner conversations consist of, when we're not being bombarded with stories on who did what on the playground and just exactly how toys ended up flying through the window on the bus, while it was moving.

~I'm not pregnant.
This may not seem like a big deal but when you haven't had a period since the end of March, you start to worry. I confirmed with my Dr the other day that my body just hates me and is playing a cruel and evil trick on me. It's probably wrong to skip out of the OBGYN office, but I think I did. She gave me 3 months of the Ring free (SCORE!) until HH can go get snippity snip snipped. When I got to my car I stuck the packs in my diaper bag since I didn't have my purse with me and didn't want to leave them just sitting on the front seat while I ran in to the grocery store. I dropped the baby off with my mom today so I could blog work in peace and quiet. Yea, I forgot to take them out. I know, I know...I'm 29 years old and I have 2 kids, my mother finding my birth control should not be a problem. What can I say? I have issues...you know, in case you didn't already know this.

~Speaking of my mom, we're going on vacation with my parents this summer. For a week, in a cottage on a lake. I'm super super excited, I just hope she doesn't drive me completely batty in that week. I see lots of wine...and margaritas in my future that week. I'll have no phone, no tv and no internet. I'll need the alcohol to get through the withdrawals.

I didn't fall in to a black hole

There's been a lot going on around here and as usual my blog got pushed to the side. Sorry those of you who follow and actually read. It's just been a hell of a week.

The Ugly:
My uncle has brain cancer.
It's inoperable.
They are giving him 6-8 months with chemo and radiation.

He needs McDreamy. He needs a miracle.

The Bad:
I hate not being able to fix this. I'm a fixer. I like to make the people around me happy, it's what makes me happy. I can't make my cousins happy, I can't make my aunt happy. My cousin has been my best friend since I was 8, and yes this is the same cousin that doesn't know about this blog. I don't have a good reason for that, other then nobody in my family knows about it. Regardless, she IS my best friend. No matter how frustrated I get, no matter how different we may be at times, I love her like a sister. She's way more then just a friend, way more then just a relative. Her family, her parents are almost as close to me as my own. I spent weeks upon weeks with them every summer for pretty much my entire childhood. Thinking that "The Grand Pooba" might not be around to see my kids grow up, to see his own grandkids grow up...it breaks my heart.
That's not to say that the doctors could be off, maybe he'll have a year, maybe 2. Maybe it'll only be 3 months. Nobody can say for sure...and I don't think this is any different for the rest of us. None of us know how long we have...it just really starts to put stuff in to perspective. Things that seemed important, now seem silly.

The Good:
There has been some good. My mom and I took those crazy boys of mine to MI to visit family. We did a March for Babies and had a ball. I haven't seen them since my wedding 5 years ago, so it was nice to sit and talk. My boys met their cousins, and they loved each other.
Here's a few pictures from last weekend: