my life as a Facebook status

I'm spending the evening home alone with the kids, so I've had some time for some interesting reflection. The most strange, or perhaps disturbing, realization is that I find myself thinking in Facebook status updates. Something (ordinary or unusual) happens to me and I start composing my memory as if I am writing my status. Complete with the "Tina Campbell is..." beginning. Perhaps this is how ordinary people are able to "Tweet" all day long. So here was my day:

7:30am - Tina Campbell is so happy that the boys were quiet til 7:30am since she had a kinda late (but fun) night out w/ the girls last night.

8:30am - Tina Campbell wonders how she is going to teach the boys that it's not ok to move the kitchen chairs all around.

9:00am - Tina Campbell is looking forward to talking to the 100 new Junior League provisionals very soon.

9:30am - Tina Campbell is frustrated that there's never open parking around the Junior League headquarters, and can't believe she left the bag full of parking meter quarters on the kitchen counter. ugh.

1:00pm - Tina Campbell has decided that although the splash park is fun, it is WAY too hot (90deg) to go all the way over to the park, so will do poop patrol and let the boys play in their little pool.

3:15pm - Tina Campbell wonders why the lady in the minivan waiting for her parking spot is throwing dirty looks her way as she walks the shopping cart back up to the front of the store. There are tons of close parking spots. Find a different one.

5:15pm - Tina Campbell is so proud of the boys at dinner tonight. William made some good progress holding a fork and Michael ate hamburger, pears, strawberries and cheese without getting any stains on his clothes!

6:30pm - Tina Campbell's poor little william must be getting more molars. cried so hard that he needed 15 minutes of mommy-snuggling to calm down before bed. good thing my arms are long enough that michael could get sympathy snuggling at the same time.

8:30pm - Tina Campbell thinks it's kinda weird that she has begun to think in the format of Facebook status updates. And at the same time is irritated with her husband for letting his phone break while he is on his fantasy football draft weekend away.

9:00pm - Tina Campbell has just realized that in 10 hours, the whole thing will begin again. So instead of writing about all the mundane things that happened, she is going to bed so she can dream about a day where the boys play nicely together without moving the furniture, the poop patrol is done by someone else and the dishes are washed by the elves. She is also hoping that whatever tooth prompted the meltdown has cut through by morning.

Terrible almost twos

Sixteen months and 5 days. That is how long I lasted with the two most perfect babies on the planet. On the 16th month +6 days, the perfectness came crashing down. At least 1/2 of it.

From the moment of their birth, I've known that William would be the one to push the boundaries. He's been chewing furniture since 6 months old, pulling on computer cords since he could make a fist (always), climbing on the couch for months now.

With climbing came standing up on the furniture and diving off of it. So the 1st two rules we've taught are "stay on your bottom" and "get off feet first". He's got both down like a champ. And he's really good at following the feet first (after a few head-first dives resulting in scrapes, bumps and bruises). But it is with great delight that he chooses to disobey on the sitting. Beyond just the fact that I don't want kids who stand on furniture, when he stands up on the loveseat, he's apt to stumble over the back onto the kitchen tile. When he stands on the couch, he pulls on and bangs the wood blinds. Not OK. So in the past week, he's had no less than 14 timeouts. All for giggling at me when he pops up and won't go back onto his bottom.

But even with his timeouts, although he fusses a little, he's still been a pretty sweet, fun little boy. Today, however, all has changed (either that or someone came in the middle of the night and traded babies on me).

For lunch, I made a yummy plate of cheese, chicken, avocado and corn, with strawberries and bananas for dessert. All their favorites. William (I call him that even though I'm still thinking maybe someone had replaced my kid last night) ate a few pieces of his lunch before very deliberately throwing pieces, one at a time, onto the floor. And by "deliberately" I mean - picked up a piece, held it up to me as if trying to feed me, snatching it and putting it toward his mouth, and then moving his arm out to the side and throwing it down onto the floor. With each piece of food. So I said all the things you're supposed to say to your kid when he's throwing food on the ground. And I gave him 3 tries. After the 3rd piece of chicken was tossed to the floor with one hand and a piece of cheese simultaneously tossed with the other hand, lunch ended for William. Imagine how jealous he was when Michael got to eat the rest of the avocado AND the strawberries and banana.

By dinner time, it was looking like Sweet William had returned. He sat on my lap to quietly drink his milk and then played in the kitchen while I finished up the mac & cheese. But when it came to getting into their high chairs...I am not sure who the child is who showed up. We got the full back arch, stiff legs (think light as a feather stiff as a board, but not light as a feather). There was no way I was getting him into this chair.

And tears - the great big alligator kind. And some of that hysterical crying I haven't seen since he was about 4 months old - the crying where he forgets to breathe and turns purple. So I put him on the floor and continued to quietly feed Michael (and I will say - I am pretty sure Michael gave me a "ha. I'm the good kid" smirk a couple times). While William clung to my leg like a squid. And cried. And screamed. Well, just like I don't want kids standing on furniture, I also don't want kids who eat while running all around the house. We eat at the table. Well, "we" don't, but we will. The boys do.

I'm not quite prepared to let my still pretty small kids go to bed without any supper. So I did bend him out of his stiff as a board pose enough to strap him into the seat for a few bites of mac & cheese and fruit. But I got no thanks for it. As soon as Dada got home, William was wrenching himself out of the chair into Dada's arms.

So I've now got this testing and pushing to look forward to. And as it seems to go in this house, I'm sure I wouldn't be too far off in guessing that as soon as William starts to behave, Michael will launch into his testing and pushing and trying of my patience phase.

I will still try to be fun mommy (with the boundaries), and when I have more days like today, I'll stick to my survival rules - deep breathing in the driveway, blaring Bon Jovi when I'm alone in the car, venting to my mother and, when all else fails, remembering I could be the Octomom.