Trike-a-thon

Thank you to everyone who supported me in the St. Jude's Trike-A-Thon at my school.  We raised money for some really sick kids, and I get lots of prizes for raising so much!  I had fun riding my trike around and around the circle.  I really wanted a popsicle afterwards like we usually have, but it was so cold that morning we had hot chocolate instead! 

 - Tucker

Tucker's Three-esta

So this happened over a month ago...
Tucker just turned three years old (can you believe he hasn't been three this whole time?), and we had a Cinco de Mayo themed "Three-esta" for him.  It was SO much fun!  My mother-in-law brought all sorts of decorations, games, and sombreros to get everyone in the mood.  We also had mustaches to wear and some homemade sangria and margaritas to drink.  It was very festive, and everyone had a really great time.  The highlight (and the only part Tucker actually cared about) was the piñata.  He saw a donkey piñata in a store several months ago and really wanted it.  I told him he could have it for his birthday, and that was that.  A whole Mexican and Diego themed party sprang up around this $10 piece of cardboard that the kids bashed to bits in just a few moments.  It was awesome!  :)

Jackson

Tucker

Tucker

Daddy & Max

 Pinata

Even Great-Grandma got in on the action!

My Purple Potty

My Mommy is so silly.  A long time ago, before Christmas, I was downstairs and I saw a really awesome purple potty seat in the basement.  It is so cool!  It is purple and green and has a froggy on the back.  I love purple, so I brought it upstairs and now that is the only potty seat I like to use.  I call it my Purple Potty.  We are going away, and Mommy was cleaning my Purple Potty to pack it.  She said, "Look, Tucker!  I have your Turtle Potty so you can go poopy on the potty!"  I finally had to break it to her that that animal isn't a turtle.  It doesn't look anything like a turtle!  I told her, "Mommy, that no a turtle.  My Purple Potty is a froggy."  She made me repeat myself because I guess she just couldn't believe that she thought it was a turtle all this time.  I mean, she can't have thought I was calling it a turtle all this time, right?!  Clearly, its a frog!

Tucker

Coloring on the Walls

So Max and I were nursing on the couch when I hear Jackson yell, in his best "Mean Mommy" impression, "NO! NAUGHTY!  NO COLORING ON THE WALLS!  THAT'S NAUGHTY, TUCKER!  Mom! Mom!  Tucker colored on the walls! (I hear the door to my room slam shut.)  And now he's hiding in your room!  We're not supposed to be in there!  AND HE STILL HAS THE CRAYON!"  I really wish I could properly convey to you the note of horror in his voice at the realization that the WMD was still in the assailant's possession.  (And I also really wish I had taken pictures...)  Not really wanting to deal with it and a crying Max right then, I finished what I was doing and walked into the dining room to see a big spiral on the wall in the hall.  And then crayon all up and down the length of the opposing wall in the hall.  And then the door jambs between the dining room and hallway were colored so thickly in red-orange crayon that, if he wasn't 2 and could actually color well, it would almost look painted.  Now, this was washable crayon and I have a hefty supply of magic erasers, so this wasn't really a huge problem, per se, but it definitely needed to be dealt with.  My first reaction, however, was to laugh.  It was kind of funny.  Tucker definitely knows better, so what did he think he was doing?  So, as I'm standing there laughing, Jackson is growing more and more indignant. 
     "Mommy!  Why are you laughing?!?  It's not funny!" 
     "No, sweetheart.  It's not funny.  I should not be laughing." 
     "So if it's not funny, why are you laughing?"
So I did my best to collect myself, and I walked into my bedroom to find Tucker standing in the corner with an impish little grin on his face.  I summoned my Mean Mommy glare and my Mean Mommy pointy-finger and bellowed, "TUCKER!  WE DO NOT COLOR ON THE WALLS! THAT IS NAUGHTY!!!"  Apparently, it was a little too much Mean Mommy because he immediately peed his pants.  Ok, dial it back there.  Instead, I took him by the hand, we got a Magic Eraser, and then I took him to the scene of the crime.  I told him it was naughty to color on the walls and he had to clean it all off. 
So he is wiping it off, and, as expected, it is coming right off with no problem.  In fact, Max decided it even looked like fun.  Tucker kept having to tell Max, "No! My work!  My work!" (That's what they say in Montessori school when another kid is trying to take their toy.)  Max, however, didn't care that it was Tucker's work.  He wanted to do it, too.  I finally had to get him his own sponge.  But Tucker did not appreciate the help.  He was still telling Max, "My work!"  And then Jackson started in.
"I want to help, too!"
"What?? Tucker is being punished!  You don't want to help."
"Yes, I do.  It looks like fun.  Max is helping."
"No, Tucker is being punished.  He needs to do this by himself."
"Well, maybe I should color on the wall."
"No!  If you color on the wall it is going to be A LOT worse than just having to clean it off."
So Jack sulked back to sit in a dining room chair, wistfully watching his little brothers clean crayon off the walls.  It didn't really take Tucker all that long to finish.  And when he finally did finish, what did he do?  He ran toward where I had put the crayons up high yelling, "Again!  Again!"  Apparently, I need to work on my punishing skills. 

Hello? Is there anybody out there?

They recently started making me sign into Blogger for work, so I thought maybe I'd come back.  Why not?  I mostly use Facebook to tell people about all the adorable things my kids do, but here we can tell you more.  I can post more pictures there... I can talk more here...  We'll try both!  It might go in fits and starts, though.  You'll have to bear with me.  I am a mere mother of 3 and have not yet earned my cape. 

Not too long ago, someone asked me how I liked having 3 kids.  I think I made a joke, because honestly, I don't have much time to think about it.  But now that the question has been asked, and I have had time to think about it, here is the answer:  Pretty well, all things considered.

Here is the thing about being the mother of 3:  It's really not much harder than being a mother of 2, and in some cases, it's much easier.  Jackson is in school all day, so I typically only have 2.  Jackson and Tucker occupy each other when he is home, so then it is like only having 1 child.  Sometimes the 3 play together, so then it is almost (for a second, if you close your eyes and ears) like having no kids.  And with 3, there is a clear majority, and the majority, clearly, rules.*

And the transition wasn't really that bad, either.  The transition from no kids to 1 kid can be pretty jarring.  Suddenly, a tiny helpless person is dependent upon you for EVERYTHING.  But, there is only 1 of them, and there is usually at least 1 of you, typically more.*  And the upgrade from 1 to 2 can be downright brutal.  You are used to being able to tag team, and suddenly it is every man for himself.  But the change from 2 to 3 is barely noticeable.  Sure, you're now outnumbered.  It sounds like a big deal, but its not.  Because the truth is, you're already crazy.  You are already in the widening gyre.  The center is already giving way.  Mere anarchy is already loosed upon the world.***  The difference is negligible. 

Let me invite you into my head for a conversation I have with myself, I'm ashamed to admit, multiple times per week.  It's the exact same one, the exact same way, over and over.  I have a very simple shower routine, and it starts with washing my hair.  So, I will be standing in the shower, water as hot as Max can stand it cascading over my head and drowning out the noise of him splashing at my feet, when I think to myself, "Did you just wash your hair, or were you getting it wet so that you can wash it?"  It's like a scene from that movie Memento when the guy is running and he can't remember if he is chasing someone or is the one being chased.  Anyway, I heave a sigh of exasperation at finding myself here AGAIN, and then I try to smell my hair.  This exercise is, of course, futile as I have been using the same flavor of Herbal Essences since college and can no longer smell it.  So then I close my eyes and try to think.  I try to will myself to remember what happened after I washed Max.  Sometimes, I even have to think about whether I got even that far.  But it is always useless.  I never actually remember.  Then, the still-sane sliver of my brain chimes in with, "Oh, just wash it again.  You'll get to stay in here longer."  The rest of my brain quickly agrees that this is a wonderful idea.  Even with Max in there with me, it is frequently the most time I have to myself until bedtime.  (He generally ignores me in favor of the toys and gathering water in the bottom of the tub.)  So, I wash my hair again.  And as I'm scrubbing, I always think, "Man, this is familiar.  I think I did this already."  But then that still-sane sliver reminds me that I do this every day, so of course it seems familiar.  And then I sigh again and try really hard to pay attention, because I have gotten stuck in this loop multiple times on occasion, particularly when I'm really tired.  And then I remind myself to pay attention when I wash my face because a very similar conversation can happen we get to that part of the program, as well. 

Why did I tell you this?  To illustrate exactly what kind of crazy we are talking about.  But its not all that bad.  I have very shiny and healthy hair (when I remember to cut it more than every 6-9 months.)  And while there may be voices, I at least recognize them as my own.  In any case, it is always interesting! :) 


*But, obviously, I know nothing about having multiples.
**Or single parenting.
***Let's give credit where credit is due.  I am not actually this clever.  This is Yeats.  Sort of.  It's pretty close, anyway.