Lately

Life keeps coming at us at full speed. We moved to California in January into a two bedroom apartment {{eye twitch}} to give ourselves enough time to find the perfect house. We FINALLY found a place to call ours, where I can send the boys into the backyard to do 3 and 4 year old boy stuff like throw superheros over the fence, hose each other with the water hose, pee off the deck, run through the landscaping, and yell in their pirate voices.

They're no longer sharing a room, but that hasn't helped our bedtime struggle like I hoped it would.  They hold secret meetings in the hallway to giggle, play and give me a nervous twitch. They honestly believe that we can't hear them or we're oblivious to their shenanigans.

I discovered an obnoxious stain in our carpet this morning from spilled blackberries. {{Yay! Surprise!}} After our investigation, the offender had to watch me scrub the carpet for 20 minutes and then he had to help scrub for another 10 minutes.

Other ridiculous incidences from lately:

I learned that the garbage truck comes Thursdays early on a Thursday morning. I was sleeping, which is quite an accomplishment these days with achy hips and giant belly, when I heard the garbage truck approaching our neighborhood. I bolted out of bed, without a bra, and a shirt too small, exposing the under part of my massive belly. Nothing quite like meeting your neighbors when running around like a half-dressed, pregnant spaz, trying to maneuver trash cans.  {{Hello cul-de-sac, friends!! Aren't you glad we moved in the neighborhood?!}}

A lady approached us at the grocery store and said, "Listening to your family is hysterical". I'll take that as a compliment. I recall Crew waving his sword around, Pax making spaceship sound effects, Rod asking which jelly I preferred and me telling him I didn't care and wanted to go home all at the same time. 

Once upon a time, I was loading my car with boxes. Out walks Pax, being helpful, carrying boxes. A few seconds behind him, out walks Crew with a bucket over his head. {{smacks forehead}}  It gets better. He ran into a parked car while the owner of the car stood RIGHT THERE. I seriously considered pretending he wasn't my child.

The black cat. Once upon a time, I woke to excited shouts that a cat was inside. I jumped out of bed like a crazy lady, sleepy and delirious, while the boys danced around, proud as ever that they let a cat inside. Much to my surprise, I watched a black cat dart across the road, directly in the path of our open patio door.  Cats are skittish creatures, so why this cat accepted an invitation inside our home from the two most mischievous, loud boys on planet Earth left me speechless. I had my doubts he even entered our home.... until one Sunday afternoon.

Once upon a time, on a Sunday afternoon, the boys and I played a board game on the living room floor while Rod napped on the couch. The weather was perfect, so the patio door was open letting the cool air inside. Out of the corner of my eye I saw something black approaching. I turned to see the  black INSIDE MY HOME. I jumped as high as any pregnant woman is capable and tried to climb a wall, all while screaming like a lunatic. Rod fell off the couch in a fluster, half tangled in his blanket, trying to make sense of the situation. The boys, once again, danced around, thrilled to have their friend return. Mr. Black Cat? He darted off once again. This time I was certain he would never return after causing such a scene.

He came back. And kept coming back. And Mr. I Hate Cats even bought the flea invested creature canned cat food. Yes, the expensive stuff. At some point, he stopped visiting, thank heaven.

 

The other morning the boys figured out how to turn off the water to the whole house. They just so happened to make this discovery when I was butt-naked and showering. That was a fun morning!

Pax was listening to a Bible Music for Kids CD when a "Praise the Lord" song began playing. Apparently he heard "Crazy Lord" and there was no talking him out of it. They were absolutely singing "Crazy Lord", according to him. I eventually hid the CD because I just cannot handle him singing "Crazy Lord" in public. We already attract enough unwanted attention without being sacrilegious.

Crew pooped in the bathtub last week when both he and Pax were bathing. No elaboration required, except to mention that Rod wasn't home, because he never is when things like this happen.

Crew locked himself in our Master bathroom. That was absolutely traumatizing for me and him. I couldn't get him out for nearly half an hour. Once he was finally rescued, he was a sweaty mess from screaming and crying so hard. The last time he locked himself in a room (less than a year ago), I went Hulk smash on the door to rescue him. (Rod wasn't home. Like I said, Rod is NEVER home for most of our adventures.) Rod told me I'm never allowed to break down another door.

We visited Utah in July. That trip deserves its own post because, wow. First, we drove {{smacks forehead}} and that alone is very telling. Second, we (our boys) traumatized those either with no children or those with quiet children. Third, we literally let our presence be known in the most embarrassing ways everywhere we went. Like when Crew broke the BYU football manikin's arm in the BYU football offices.  {{slow clap}}

"I want you to hooooooold me." -Crew Allen, all day long

Crew started Pre-School this week. Pax starts Pre-Kindergarten next week. A long, long, long time ago I seriously considered homeschooling. I love the idea of individualizing curriculum for each of my children and being able to meet their academic needs. I've known many families who successfully homeschool their children and it became very appealing, not to mention how much I admired those moms.

And the strangest thing happened. I woke up from my delusional dream, surrounded by two boys, ages 3 and 4, and realized I value my sanity too much, therefore homeschooling would never work for us. I love those two little guys more than anything, but HOLY BATMAN, they're exhausting.