I need a Priest!!!!!

I used to say to myself, and to others, that I will never have another child because I can't go through the *newborn phase* ever again. At this moment, I would like to adjust that statement and say - I will never have another child again because I don't think I will survive the Terrible-Two's one more time!!!!! Sweet Jesus, this child needs an exorcism!! Now I know why she is so dang cute, 'cause I would have dropped her off at the fire station a long time ago.

**(note: author does not condone abandoning your children! But, considers talking about abandoning them therapeutic, and therefore, allowed)**

Today's adventure included a morning trip to the grocery store to restock the depleted supply of food in our house. We made it through exactly TWO aisles before the ugly Terrible-Two monster sprouted it's head on my toddler. Conveniently, the 2 aisles we were able to browse, were the wine & beer section, so tonight's dinner for mommy is covered. But, I digress.....

So, there I was, frazzled, screaming toddler shackled into the shopping cart, purchasing a large case of beer and several bottles of wine.......only. In my defense, before somebody goes calling CPS on me, it is Superbowl Sunday this weekend, and we are expecting guests.

I see a few other moms in the vicinity, and oddly, their children actually resemble human beings. So, what am I doing wrong? Now I'm feeling frazzled AND inferior. Is everyone looking at me like I'm a terrible mother?? Am I to blame for the lunacy that is happening in my life right now?? In reality, I can't see how anyone would be in a position to judge me, especially when most adults have probably experienced some type of public humiliation before. But, it's still hard to not feel like there are adjudicating eyes piercing through my soul, at this particular moment. I could not exit the store soon enough.

Then, I remind myself that I actually have a few girl friends who have multiples. My heart immediately goes out to them!!! If I could afford to take us all on a week long girls' retreat, ladies, I would! There is not enough wine, or a strong enough sedative, in the free world for me to be able to handle more than one 2 year old at a time.

Right now, I can honestly say I am thankful for pacifiers and happy hour (which can not get here soon enough!) In fact, mommy may need a pacifier in order to survive this next year.

Max & Ruby....really?!?

Why can't real-life be more like an episode of Max & Ruby?? I mean, c'mon, where are their parents exactly?? And why is Ruby the one getting up all night long when Max can't sleep, or when he wets the bed?? You never see them trying to kill each other, or throw each other down the stairs, or pull on each others ears......They work out their differences amicably. There's no crying, whining, arguing, yelling, name calling.....'Grandma' doesn't have to take any kind of sedative to deal with them.

My theory is that mom & dad have gone on a permanent stay-cation. Or, perhaps, they are living out my own personal fantasy and have changed their names, moved to Bermuda and live a life of continual Happy Hour.

"your parents faked their way through it.....you fake your way through it.....and hopefully, you don't raise a serial killer"

Does anyone else have the strange feeling that these people are actually long lost, blood relatives??

Serenity now!!!!

You know it's going to be a bad day when you want to crawl back into bed and hide under the covers before it's even 9am.

My day begins with a 5 year old who would rather torment is sister than get ready for school. A 2 year old who is so cranky and defiant I am ready to lock myself in a white padded cell. As I frantically try to get both children out the door and into the car, said 5 year old reminds me that it is "crazy hat day" at school. So, we all shuffle back into the house and search hi and low for a crazy hat (five year has minor panic attack when I suggest he wear one of his sister's pink beanies). We finally discover part of an old Halloween costume, that barely fits his head, but will serve the purpose.

Once eldest child is safely dropped off at school, I return home to realize 2 year old is actually quite warm (which may explain her crankiness). I proceed to take her temperature and get kicked violently in the jugular. However, a fever of 102 is discovered, and I now feel like I can control the situation by giving her some Ibuprofen. Although, this totally throws all my plans for the day out the window, and I had actually gotten myself up early to get showered & dressed. I am now perturbed that I have wasted makeup, hairspray, energy and coveted sleep time.

I place 2 year old in front of "The Princess and the Frog" and decide if I'm going to be stuck in the house all day with a sick toddler, I can at least be a good wife and do my husband's laundry. Halfway down the stairs, full laundry basket in hand, my feet give out from underneath me, catapulting me into the air, as well as the laundry basket (now broken) and all of the clothes. But, instead of landing on my "well padded" backside, I land right on the back of my head. Immediately my jaw is numb and my eyes are watering from the pain (please refer to earlier post about hereditary clumsiness).

The best part of this story, is that after seeing me fall, my 2 year old comes over to the stairs, sits down next to me (where I am cradling my head in my hands), uses her sweet, angelic little voice to see if I am all right...."aaawwww, mommy, awwww". She puts her small arms around me and gives me a hug, and then.......smacks the back of my head. Twice.

I'm sorry, I don't speak 'Ewok'.

What is more frustrating than trying to communicate with a 2 year old?.....Trying to communicate with a 2 year old that doesn't communicate. That's right. You heard me. My *almost* 2 year old, darling, angelic daughter...does not talk. At least, coherently. There's a lot of babble, and I'm quite certain she knows exactly what she is saying in her own head. For instance, she's throwing around a new word these days "BOP!", which I have deciphered to mean "'BLEEP' you!" She says it with such fierceness and tenacity in her voice, I'm almost afraid for when she does start enunciating actual words.

She looks incredibly innocent and sweet, batting her big baby blues and long eyelashes at people. But those of us who live with her, know the truth. My 5 year old son and I have deemed her language that of the "Ewoks", since that's exactly what she sounds like. It's fun to laugh at her cuteness and all, but ULTRA-frazzling to spend a 12 hour day with her trying to deduce what it is she saying, wanting, needing. I have attempted to teach her baby sign language in hopes of reducing frustration on both our parts. Sometimes this is effective, others, not so much. Her patience level goes from 0 to 60 in less than 2.5 seconds, and the sign language technique does NOT work when she is tired, teething, sick, frustrated, etc.

I've only just begun to hear the words 'mommy' and 'daddy', and even these are not gender specific for her. I am sometimes 'daddy', my husband is sometimes 'mommy', and any woman she sees in person, or in print, is 'mommy'. Glad to know I am appreciated and recognizable.

So, what is the remedy, you ask? Well, we have speech therapy once a week (which she only occasionally chooses to cooperate with). Mommy keeps the wine and bubble bath industry in business. The appearance of "BOP!" in her vocabulary started just recently, so I'm quite certain it's her way of telling me off. She seems very content with keeping us all frustrated. I may have the only child who goes off to school speaking Ewok.

Listen....do you hear that??

The definition of "silence": a) absence of any sound or noise; stillness. b) the state or fact of being silent; muteness.

Does anyone know Mr. Webster personally?? If so, I would like to make an addendum to this definition. I feel this would be an IMPORTANT public service announcement to any and all women out there, considering motherhood. I will do this free of charge, and with no requirement for recognition...

Addendum. "silence": a) stillness, or muteness, that you will feel the absence of, the moment you decide to push a human being out of your vagina. b) something you will desperately crave just five minutes of for the first eighteen (or more) years of your child's existence. c) stillness, or muteness that will induce fear and moments of paranoia and anxiety, when your children are in another room.