happy birthday to me!

Today is my 32nd birthday, and in honor of my birth, I am painting the basement. Yay!

Ok, not really, but I am in the midst of a giant do-it-yourself basement remodel, and I have momentum and don't want to stop. Not much of a birthday, but I figure we'll celebrate this weekend. My friend did bring me a chocolate croissant and a coffee from my most favorite bakery ever, so it has been a great morning despite the painting.

In honor of my birthday, I was thinking I would offer to answer any and all questions you might have (as long as they aren't toooo outrageous or involve me revealing my name or address or something like that). So leave me a comment with your (burning) questions, and I'll do my best to answer them.

Once all this painting is done, I'll be taking some time to sit outside and enjoy your beautiful weather too, so tell me if you have done something for yourself lately. I'd love to hear about your restful and spoiled moments!

beets are delicious

I got online to write a post several times, and had to stop because I am boring myself with the complaining, honestly. We got the stomach flu again, this time I was firmly included in the camp, and as it went through Josie, then Gabe, and then me, I just couldn't help but start to seriously consider the possibility of this house or us being cursed. I know that sounds crazy, but this is where my mind is these days.

But... BUT! I was going to come on this morning and tell you that my children were no longer behaving like demon spawn! We had a full week where I didn't want to fling anyone from a moving vehicle, and it was great, and glorious, and I wanted to smother them with kisses, and I felt like my normal little boy was back. The little boy I am accustomed too, who is compliant and sweet and reasonable and delicious, and then. Today happened.

I think today may be one of the worst days in my parenting career, really and truly. Gabe was so awful. So horrid. So, ugh, difficult and contrary and outrageously disobedient and frankly, pretty much an asshole all day long. It was shocking and amazing, and I was at a loss for what to do. My normal parenting style was simply not working AT ALL, and threats and carrying out of threats and time-outs and spankings and all the rest were not working AT ALL. Like, NOT AT ALL. I finally put him in bed wayyy before his bedtime, without dinner, and told him that I loved him so much. SO MUCH, but I did not like the way he had been acting all day long and I hoped tomorrow would be better (please let tomorrow be better), and I haven't heard a peep since.

Today was baaaaaad, though, and I think now I shall retire downstairs to my living room with a movie and some deliciously fresh beets from our farm share (which I haven't told you about at all, and I really owe you multiple posts about it). And maybe some ice cream too. And perhaps a pina colada as well. And some chocolate. A lot of chocolate.

you can never have too many injuries

Since we are nothing if not consistent, today at 11:30am, I received a call from Gabe's sports camp that he'd taken a tumble and could I please come get him ASAP.

I arrived to find his face bloody, his lips swollen and split, and his front teeth loose and bleeding.

Let's pause here to take a deep breath and recall that one of my number one phobias is for my children to bust up their teeth and end up with black teeth or no teeth or broken teeth. Big fat SIGH.

We headed in to an emergency trip to the dentist where they confirmed he didn't fracture any teeth or break any facial bones, but beyond that they can't help us. The dentist says the teeth will either be fine, or they may discolor, or they may fall out, or they may abscess and get infected and need to be removed. But they may be fine, but they may also be any one of those horrible things I just mentioned. We just don't know. Oh, and it could take months before any or all of those things happen. Have a nice day!

Anyone for margaritas at noon? On a Wednesday? As much as I wanted to bash my head against the wall, I kept my cool because Gabe was visibly nervous about another accident and the possibility of more trauma being done to him. We're on a soft foods diet for the next week, and in the meantime I've decided to pull him out of the sports camp even though I had ONE FREAKING WEEK OF FREEDOM but whatever, it's fine, I'm not bitter or anything. I'm too afraid of the very real possibility that he'll get hit in the mouth with a ball or fall again or whatever and it will further damage the teeth.

Honestly? I just feel defeated. Isn't this getting a bit ridiculous?

too much sun exposure?

One of my friends emailed me this article on why parents hate parenting, or could be otherwise titled "how and why our children make us unhappy". In some ways it was a depressing article, and in others, totally liberating. I found myself nodding along in the article as the author spoke about the pressures on parents today, the things we worry about, the ways we are making ourselves crazy, and how being a parent brings you such joy even though the day to day is draining.

These days, I will freely admit it, life is hard. I am Exhausted, with a capital E. Gabe has become a full-fledged 3 and a half year old, and it turns out that 3 and a half year olds are totally unreasonable, totally insane, totally annoying, totally frustrating, and totally infuriating. They are also absolutely adorable and hilarious and brilliant, and thank goodness for that, because if not I'd be selling him on the street corner. Additionally, 18 month olds (or at least MY 18 month old) are all of those above things and more, and the combination of the two of them has me contemplating a drink at 9:15 in the morning, and I don't even like alcohol.

I have been having a hard time parenting lately, and I can't quite put my finger on the why. I feel like I'm always frustrated, have a short fuse, can't seem to get the day on a good track. I'm yelling more than I want to, getting actually angry rather than keeping control of the situation. I feel like both kids are just not listening, and actively disobeying all the time, and it is driving me bonkers.

I'm sure part of it has to do with all the injuries, part of it has to do with Gabe being out of any organized program since the end of March, part of it has to do with our contemplation of a third child, part is the ages of Gabe and Josie, and the rest, I have no idea. Maybe I'm not sleeping enough, maybe I'm just grumpy, maybe the kids are just difficult, maybe it is just a phase. Regardless, something has to change because my level of frustration (and Josh's too) is just too high.

If we're going to have a third child, Josh is adamant that it has to be soon, and I'm beyond terrified at the possibility. I really do want another baby- as insane as that is- but things are so crazy right now I can't imagine fitting another pregnancy, another bout of all-the-freaking-time sickness, another person into the mix. I think the worries about another baby are increasing my anxiety over Gabe and Josie's behavior too. Rather than viewing it as regular kid stuff, I keep having this doomsday attitude of "oh my God this is awful and it is only going to get worse and now we're going to have another and shoot me now." Somewhat unhelpful, I do acknowledge.

On the one hand, I'm adoring this summer with our super lazy days at our town lake (almost every single morning), delicious ice cream, relaxing grilling, and playing outside, but I'm also feeling totally burnt out and disappointed in my own and the kids' behavior. Any tips? Is this a terrible age? Tell me it is going to get better PLEASE.

gag

Wading through day 11 of a stomach bug. Yesterday, today, and tomorrow, I am scooping poop into little vials to be tested for parasites.

Is there anything more disgusting than this? Please tell me if there is...