Just Shoot Me.

You know you're a parent when you take extra precaution cutting potatoes cause both the kids are asleep and it would be really inconvenient to wake them for a trip to the E.R. to reattach a finger.
The role of a mother is seldom glamorous, if ever. The other day, I was having one of those mornings that was so bad the whole day was doomed to be a complete loss. I don't even remember why exactly. The baby was sick and, mercifully, napping. Jesse was as cranky as I'd ever seen him, and very tired, but I was faced with a dilemma. The boys sleep in the same room (our room, I'd like to add), and if I put Jesse in there to nap, his crying would inevitably wake Gabriel, who was feeling indescribably lousy. In addition, I had been running around all morning taking care of things in the house, but somehow nothing was getting done. On top of that, I'd been trying since I woke up to buy Dumbo on Ebay and had managed to lose track of the hour five times and miss each auction. My frustration was mounting, and I called my mom to force her to neglect her work and listen to me rant for twenty minutes. I was feeling a very tiny bit better after rehashing how my challenges so far in the day were too much for me at the moment, and I had to hang up to answer the door. The two year old boy that I babysit had arrived. I pulled him inside and just like that, he threw up all over the place. Twice! (Don't feel bad for him. The kid pukes to piss you off when he's mad about something.) I called Matt and warned him that it was in everyone's best interest that he leave work come home immediately. I stripped the kid's clothes off so I could get them washed and put him in the bath, and he threw a temper tantrum. It was then that I cracked. At this point, so many things had gone wrong that it just couldn't be upsetting anymore. It had graduated from that point to being funny. I practically hit the floor in a heap of nervous, strung-out, desperate laughter, like a crazy person. This lasted maybe... five or six minutes. Then I felt better. The laughing did me good, and my spirits had been lifted. It was a miracle. A Christmas miracle.

Thank goodness, not all days are like this. Most often they go quite ... well- (smoothly isn't quite accurate). Most days are a blast. A very adventurous blast. My days are not unlike those of any wife and mom, I'm sure. Except mine are sprinkled with, "Oh! I just stuck the antenna up Jesse's nose and he liked it!" (accompanied by episodes of gurgling two year old laughter). There'll be an occasional incident when I hear Jesse command Gabriel to, "Eat! Eat!" and I'll run across the room just in time to dig the second half of a dead moth out of the baby's mouth. Sometimes, if I'm engrossed in some activity I can't easily walk away from, Matt will come at me, aiming Jesse's butt like a cannon and order Jesse to "Fire!" (fart) directly into my face. And right on cue, out shoots a blast from within. And if Gabe's trapped in, say, his high chair, he becomes the next victim. Only by then Jes has to really push to get one out, red faced, grunting and all. These events are inevitably followed by a round of, "Again! Again!" (Jesse shouts that, not me. And just so you know, I'm trying to avoid writing about flatulence, but I can't! It's all that happens in my life! If it bugs you go away and read someone else's blog, you butthead.)

Right now Gabe's got a rather unpleasant butt rash. I've been trying to change his messy diapers as soon as he produces them to avoid irritating it, but that's not easy when all his movements these days are stealth poops. I go to change a pee pee diaper and there's a soft, round surprise just waiting there for me like a silent, and previously odorless, marvel. All I can do is wipe in wonderment, completely stupified.

The other day I was sitting on the couch with my feet propped up on the coffee table, feeling quite nice actually, and Jesse came up and rested his hand on my leg, and stated, "Pokey. Legs pokey, Mom." Fine, Kid. I'd like to see you find time every day to shave your legs. Then we'll see who's pokey.

Just a few minutes ago Matt walked up to kiss me, and apparently his reception was not warm enough, cause instead of kissing me, he told me he was going to fart and walk away. Says I'm being punished. Whatever; there's nothing I can do. If I try to leave he'll just sit on my head and do it again. You've gotta pick your battles, ya know? (Again, sorry for the potty talk. It just doesn't get old around here.)

Every evening we walk around the corner to our neighbor's house to see their horses. A couple days ago Matt took Jesse and I stayed home with Gabe while he napped. The boys took some old brown bananas to feed the horsies (what a treat!). All you have to do is hold the banana out, skin and all, and the horse will take it and toss it a bit till it gets in the right position to slide down it's throat. Well this time Cocoa accidentally lobbed a banana really hard, strait into Jesse's face. It was so squishy it broke through the peel and slimed his whole head. Jes proceeded to angrily scold the horse, throwing out such reprimands as, "So bad, horse! No hit!" intertwined with "Eeew, gross!" Matt had to wipe J's face off on his shirt; Jesse couldn't stand the mess another second. Then as they started for home Jesse looked back and called, "Bye! Horse, Bye! Horse, say bye! Horse!!!"

We're having the hardest time finding the right form of discipline for Jesse. So far he just refuses to care what we do to him. He simply won't respond no matter what we do. Lecturing, yelling, time outs, spanking, if anything he just laughs! Occasionally he'll pull out a very unconvincing rendition of actual crying, but he doesn't even put his back into it, despite my repeated suggestions. When we get on him for doing something bad, he points his face up, eyes cutting to the side, puffs up his chest, and stares blankly as though he just doesn't have time for this. Does anyone have any remedies for this? Any ideas? Suggestions? I'll even accept mere pitty for my circumstances. How did I get here? And why is it, despite everything, so much fun?