Cole Can Haz Cheezburger?

On Saturday I decided to take Cole with me while I ran some errands.

Why in the world would I purposefully take a toddler on errands?  Because I am a glutton for punishment.

No.  I just felt like he needed some one-on-one time with Mommy.  Plus, I knew it'd be a heck of a lot easier on Lance to just have three kids rather than Cole.

Anyway, that's not the point of this story.  The point of this story starts with this: as I was strapping him into his car seat he started talking about cheeseburgers.  Half of what he said was unintelligible, but I definitely heard cheeseburgers mentioned several times.  This seemed a bit odd to me since it's not like we eat a ton of cheeseburgers around here.  Still, heaven only knows what goes on inside that little boy's mind, so the mention of cheeseburgers didn't seem too out there.

As we drove down Veteran's Memorial Pkwy (350 S to us old timers), we passed a McDonald's.  Cole got really excited and started saying "Cheeseburger!  Cheeseburger!", until we drove by it.  And once he realized we weren't going there he dropped his little head and frowned a genuine little sad frown and it was all I could do not to pull a U-turn and go buy that child a cheeseburger.  But is was only 10am and there was a rather large median in the way.

So I told Cole that we would get a cheeseburger for lunch, just the two of us.  Wouldn't that be a special treat?  He was quite excited about this.  He was excited about this at Gigi's house (we had to drop something off), he was excited about this at Sam's Club (I had to buy half the store), and he was excited about this at Target (where I scored some sweet penny loafers for $7.48 and a cute dress for Tess).  He was still excited about it on the way to Burger King. (Hey, I didn't feel like McDonald's...) 

And then he fell asleep.

Poor kiddo was tuckered out with all those errands.  (It might not seem like many, but when you run up and down every single aisle of each store, you get tired.)  I thought about going anyway and waking him up, but the risk that he would wake up SUPER GROUCHY was just too high.  So I took him home.

He woke up just fine and without any mention of cheeseburgers he happily ate a peanut butter and honey sandwich.

Later that afternoon I was in the kitchen baking cookies for an object lesson I was using in my Sunday School class the next day.  (I was teaching Gospel Principles.  It's awesome - you should totally come.)  I could hear Cole come up the stairs.  He walked into the kitchen and with the most adorable toddler face and with the most adorable toddler lisp said, "I have cheeseburger, fries, and a drink?"

It was all I could do not to eat him up right then!  I picked him up and twirled him around the kitchen.  Then he saw all the cookies on the counter and said, and I'm not making this up, "Oh my gosh!  Cookies!  I want one!"

Well of course I gave him a cookie.  I gave him several, in fact.

Well, as Cole's luck would have it, by the time it was time to make dinner I had no desire at all to cook.  Neither did Lance. (Hah!  When does Lance ever have a desire to cook?  Sorry, Lance.)  And, as Cole's luck would have it, I had several coupons for Burger King.  So, in the end, I guess Lance did cook - he went through the drive-thru and brought home cheeseburgers, fries, and a drink for everyone!

 

And all was well.

Allowance

For quite a while now Lance and I have been mulling over the idea of giving Spencer and Josh an allowance.  First I couldn't decide how much to give.  Then I couldn't decide the best way to introduce the concept of saving and budgeting so that they would understand.  Then there was the problem of where they would keep the money and how I would get them the right amount each week, and what denomination of coins and bills I should give them so they could pay their tithing... the list went on and on.

And so they didn't get an allowance because it was just easier that way.

I was thinking about it again the other night when I finally realized what my big hang-up was: the cash.  I very rarely have cash on hand.  (Except for an emergency $20 I keep in my wallet.)  I realized that the reason we hadn't done anything yet was because I didn't want to have to deal with giving them cash every week.

And then I had another realization: these children didn't HAVE to have cash.  In all reality, these children could grow up using cash only on very rare occassions.  I mean, everything is electronic now.  I know some people argue that children can't really understand the concept of wise spending without actually having the money in hand - but I don't agree with that.  This is the e-generation; if anything, using cash could be a more foreign concept to them than having an electronic account.  Doesn't it make more sense to set up their allowance for this type of lifestyle?

So that's what I did.

We had a short Family Home Evening to introduce this.  I made a PowerPoint presentation for it because:

1. I'm a geek at heart.
2. In my previous life (before children) I was known as the PowerPoint Queen.  Bow to me, subjects!
3. I knew anything on the computer would keep their attention.

We talked about budgeting and saving.  I asked the boys where they thought we got our money and was very interested to learn that Spencer thought the bank just gave it to us.  Even with prompting he didn't know that we worked for it.  (What does he think Lance is doing all day?) 

We also showed a very simple chart of how and where our family spends their money.  For simplicity I just used $1000 per month as our budget, so if you hear Spencer or Josh bragging about how we make $1000 a month, don't worry.  We're doing a little better than that!  I was glad that Spencer was impressed at how much we spent on our mortgage and food; perhaps he'll appreciate the roof over his head and the food on his plate a little more now.  Or not; I'm no dummy.

I explained to them that they now each have their own accounts, and each week they will get $2 deposited into the account for their allowance.  (Hey, we're big spenders here!  But how much does an 8 and 5 year old really need?)  I didn't really set up new bank accounts for them - they already have those online, and they're strictly for college/missions right now.  But I set up an Excel spreadsheet for each of them to keep tabs on their earning and spending. 

 

It's certainly nothing fancy, but it'll get the job done.

We let them know that when they wanted to buy something they should let us know.  Then we would either use our credit card (like online or at the store), or we would get cash for them to use.  I made sure they understood that this money would be deducted from their account.  Then I made sure that they understood what "deducted" means. :)  

I'm pretty sure they have a good grasp on the concepts we talked about.  I'm hoping this will help them learn some fiscal responsibility, which, given the state of the economy and some of the reasons for it, many parents didn't teach their children a couple of decades ago!

How about you?  Do you give your children allowances?  How do you do it and how much do you give?  Do you tie it to work around the house?  (We're not doing that - if you're a part of this family then you work, whether or not you're paid!)  I'm interested to see how different families do this.  Susie - have you ever taught classes or units on teaching children about money?  I'm interested to hear what a professional thinks. :)

Tess's Moods in the Space of Five Minutes

 Happy Tess.

 

Angry Tess.

Chubby Tess.  (Is there a rubber band around that wrist?!)

 

Sad Tess.

Cuddly Tess.

Sad and angry Tess.

Sleeeeeepy Tess.

Angry yelling Tess.

Spencer's First Pinewood Derby

Last night marked a rite of passage for Spencer: his first Cub Scout Pinewood Derby!

I think Spencer liked the idea of building a really fast car, he wasn't too interested in actually doing the work. (He was often more interested in his computer games!) I'm proud of Lance for helping him and letting Spencer choose what the car would look like and helping him do most of the work. No doubt Lance could have created a much flashier and faster car, but that's not the point of the derby, right? In my life I've seen lots of very impressive pinewood derby cars that there's no way a boy under the age of 25 could build, that's all I'm sayin'.

Spencer's car wasn't too fast and wasn't too slow.  He pretty much came out in the middle.  He was a bit disappointed by this, but hopefully that will light a fire under him for next year.

Spencer's car was named "Bolts", in honor of the very large bolt headlights.  (Which also acted as weights.  Gotta get it as close to 5 ounces as possible, right?)  Also, behold the awesome patches on his uniform!

Our whole family went down to the church for the races.  Including a very toddler-esque Cole.  He wasn't allowed to pick up the cars and race them down the track, which made him MAD.  (I cannot stress the anger enough.)  He spent most of the evening yelling and crying and trying to wrangle free from my arms.  He also spent quite a bit of time in the stroller we had brought for Tess.  He was happy when Josh pushed him around, but didn't want any of the little girls who were there to come anywhere near him.  They'd get close to the stroller and he'd start hollering and flailing arms and legs.  It was pretty awesome.

Here's Spencer with his Wolf Den.  From R-L: Dalton, Spencer, Karson, and Ethan. Now that's a good looking group of 8 year olds!

 

Even though Spencer's dream of winning big didn't materialize, he still had a great time.  This might in part be due to the Snickers bar he won and the mini doughnuts that were served at the end.  (The powdered sugar ones were "snow tires" and the chocolate covered ones were "mud tires".  Very clever, Scout leaders!)  (Also, Cub Scout leaders, you are all saints.  Thank you for your service! It just needs to be said. :)

True Story

This is the story of how Cole eats cupcakes.

 

The end.

4:00pm

Today was a long day.  It was a good day, but also long.  I cleaned a lot and cooked a lot and refereed playdates with lots of little boys a lot. 

So by around 4:00pm I was pretty beat.  Dinner in the crockpot, bread in the oven, boys playing downstairs, Tess down for a nap.  I just wanted to sit down and read a little bit about my guy Henry.

And then I heard Josh calling from the basement:

"Mommy!  Cole POOPED all over the floor!!!"

Oh boy.  That is just what I wanted to hear.

Sure enough, there's poop on the floor.  And yet Cole is fully clothed.  It's a mystery.  Not really - he had a major explosion, which is why I cleaned him up as best I could and then tossed him into the shower.  Some poop tsunamis are just not worth fighting.

Then I went downstairs with a bucket of water and a scrub brush and got to work.  It actually wasn't too bad, but not exactly what I wanted to do with my few minutes of free time.  Then I saw a Wii controller on the floor. With poop on it.  Of course.  So I gathered up all four controllers and gave them all a good scrubbing with some Clorox wipes.

And while I was doing this I just had to wonder: is this what my life is now?  Is this really what I signed up for?  Because I'm pretty sure I would be childless right now if I truly knew just how much poop/vomit/snot/other bodily fluids I would be cleaning up in the future.

WHY am I cleaning poop off of Wii controllers?

After wrangling a kicking and screaming Cole out of the shower, I get my answer.

Mommy loves you,
Mommy loves you,
Mommy loves you!
Now give her a big kiss!

Cole sings the song I made up for him when he has his worst Toddler moments. (I'm such an original lyricist, no?)  We sing this song at least three times a day, but I'm always the one who starts it.  He's off-key and his speech is adorably toddler-lisped.  When he's done he gives me a big, wet kiss, right on the cheek.

Then I remember.

A New Thing I Love to Hate

This evening I discovered that I hate sewing patches onto Cub Scout shirts.

More specifically, the patches that are the sleeves.

Seriously?!  Could there be a worse place to have a bunch of patches?  I mean, I know I am by no means a skilled seamstress, but I can do most of the basics.

In case you couldn't tell, this evening I finally got around to sewing Spencer's patches on his shirt.  I had had an inkling that it wouldn't be a fun chore, but tomorrow is that great rite of passage, the Pinewood Derby, so I knew it had to be done.

Man, I hate sewing patches on sleeves.

As I sewed (and picked out stitches, and sewed again), I came to the conclusion that it must have been a bunch of men who decided to put all those patches on the sleeves, because no woman would inflict such punishment on her sisters.  I imagined a scenario something like this between the guys who designed the uniform:

Bill: Hey!  Those demo uniforms sure look nice!
Ted: I thought so. But they seem to be missing something.  They need some... flair.
Bill: I know!  How 'bout some more patches? You can never have too many patches.  Like a flag and a council patch?  Oh, and the pack number.  The longer the better!
Ted: Yeah, but with all the advancement patches and other stuff, that makes the front look a little too busy.
Bill: I know - let's put them on the sleeves!  Mary will do it for us.
Ted: She won't mind?
Bill: Of course not!  She's already sewn all the patches on our 10 mock-up shirts - what's a few more?

The next day finds Mary, Bill's wife, at her sewing machine, with a stack of shirts and patches.  She sighs as she tries to sew the patches onto the sleeves.

Mary: Screw you, Bill.

Okay, that might be a bit harsh.  But I'm trying to get my point across.  And that point is, I hate sewing patches on sleeves.  And, quite frankly, it's not so fun to sew patches on other parts of the shirt, either.  (And with three boys who will be going through Cub Scouts and Boy Scouts, the future looks rife with patch sewing...)

Rub-a-Dub-Dub

Look who's no longer terrified of tubs?

Not only that - she's brave enough to share the tub with Cole!  (That's brave, indeed.)

Tess now loves baths so much that she demands one every night after dinner.  And if you don't think a 9 month old can demand something, you've never spent much time with a nine month old.

You just mention the word "bath" and her eyes light up and her limbs start flailing and it's all you can do to get her undressed and into the tub. Getting her out is easier: either the water gets cold or the brother starts splashing too much.

Early Valentine

I don't usually do anything for Valentine's Day until February, but last night I found myself designing and ordering the boys' Valentines.  (We're doing the picture of the child holding something and then inserting a real lollipop.  You know, the kind that's been all over Pinterest lately.)

Anywho, maybe it was that, or maybe it was because I wasn't ready to go back in and deal with the kids again after I got to spend a few quality minutes snowblowing and shoveling snow (which I actually kinda enjoy), but I found myself making a big Valentine for Lance this morning.

I think the word you're looking for is "Awwww..."

I had thought about doing the ABC's for Cole, but decided his head would probably explode from excitement.

Double the Fun!

So yesterday was pretty exciting.  Actually, no, that's not the right word.  Annoying?  Frustrating?  Expensive?

Ah, yes.  Expensive.

See, yesterday we had a light snowstorm - only a couple of inches.  No big deal, right?  Tess had a doctor appointment, so I got the kiddos in the minivan and headed out.  Only to discover that this was the slipperiest snow ever.  Actually, there was a thin layer of ice under the snow, but I didn't know that; they never mentioned it on the weather or anything.  Anywho, it was slick, but doable.

I dropped the boys off at a friend's house, took Tess to the doctor, and then went back to pick up the boys.  As we were leaving the friends' neighborhood, I was turning right and at just the worst moment I hit a big patch of ice.  I wasn't going that fast, but the ice made the van accelerate - right into a curb.  It wasn't too bad - just a big BONK.  But we were all fine and drove home.  I got out of the van to discover that the hubcab was cracked.

It looked like my hubcap was gonna stab someone.  Nothing terrible, but I knew it would need to be replaced.  Dang.

I always try to find the silver lining in situations.  In this case it was that I knew it wasn't so bad that I would have to deal with the insurance company.  Not that I don't like our insurance company, but it's sometimes a bit of a hassle.

I got into the house, made lunch for the boys, and then left a message with Lance letting him know what had happened.  Where was Lance?  Why did he not answer my phone when I wanted to confess to breaking the car?

Turns out that Lance was breaking his own car.  For some reason, that day of all slippery days, Lance decided to come home and have lunch with us.  He was just about home when he hit a patch of ice and also slid into a curb.  Only he was at a very bad angle and probably going a bit faster than I was, because he really messed up the car.  He was able to creep home in it, but we had to have it towed to the repair shop.

That's right - within the space of 30 minutes, the Madsen family had crashed both of their cars.  Impressive, no?

Poor Lance.  He was fine and not hurt at all (thank goodness!), but he walked into the kitchen, much to the surprised happiness of all of us, only to have to let me know what happened.  Dang.

So there went my silver lining. I've been dealing with the insurance company and mechanic today, trying to get an estimate and convincing my insurance company that they need to pony up their part of the bill.  (After the $500 deductible, of course.  Sheesh.) 

Oh well.  Things could have been infinitely worse - I saw tons of car accidents on the news that evening, with mangled cars and hurt people.  How awful would that be to be in a car accident where your kids got hurt?  I don't even want to think about it. 

Anywho, let's end this post on a happier note: this morning I thought the sliding door on my minivan was broken.  It was acting all wonky and all I could think was, "Dang it!!!  Now the insurance company is gong to think that my accident was worse than it was, when really it's just my van being a jerk."  Turns out it was just frozen shut because Lance forgot to close the garage door and it's so freakin' cold here.  Now that it's warmed up to slightly above sub-arctic temperatures in our garage it works great.  Things are lookin' up. :)

Big Slingling

Oy, what a day.  What a day we've had! 

But it's too late to go into detail.  At least the type of detail this day deserves.  Hopefully I will have time to discuss tomorrow.

So instead I will show you my giant baby in a sling. 

See, Tess has recently decided that, starting around 4:30pm every evening, she must be held.  MUST be held.

Or the WORLD WILL COME TO AN END!!!!!!

Maybe the apparently apocalyptic Mayans had a bunch of whiny babies and only hoped that the world would end so they wouldn't have to listen anymore?  Or perhaps these whining babies were the reason they didn't finish their calendar?  It's a mystery.

Anywho, of course, at this time of day I'm already tired.  And I have to make dinner. And invariably Spencer is working on and thus complaining about homework.  The last thing I want to do is lug around 20 pounds of Tess, no matter how cute.  (And, quite frankly, Tess is not that cute when she is CONSTANTLY WHINING to be held.)

So I decided to get out the sling.  I don't think I've ever used it on a baby as old as Tess.  But with these results, I suspect the sling will get quite a bit of use over the next little while.

Oy!

Have You Ever Been So Tired...

... that you fell asleep on the couch like this?  (Sideways-ish-seemingly-stuffed-into-the-cushion?)

 

Cole has.

New Babysitter

Tess has discovered the washing machine.  She is entranced by the clothes going around and around and up and down.  The other day she sat watching it for a good 15 minutes.  (But she got bored once the spin cycle started.  Apparently it's not as exciting.)

Tess-o-rama

Miscellaneous Merriment

Today was full of miscellaneous merriment for the Madsens.

I started the morning finding myself engaged in an argument with Spencer and Josh over our front entrance light fixtures.

Light fixtures.

For whatever reason, the boys were sure that Lance and I had changed the chandelier and light switches during the night.  I assured them that we had not and that they were the same ones that had always been in the house.

"No!" they argued. "They're different!  That," Spencer said, pointing to the chandelier, "is different.  It's lower. And lighter.  And different."

No matter how many times I told them they were the same, no one would believe me.  I ended the argument by kicking Spencer out the door for school and forcing a very reluctant Josh into his room to get dressed, effectively winning the argument by default.  Sometimes being the boss has its perks.

*****

Later that morning Josh and I were upstairs in the living room.  Cole came up from the basement in nothing but his socks.

I know lots of toddlers go through phases like this, but Cole is very particular about keeping his clothes on.  There are days where he won't even take off his coat or shoes for hours after we get home.  But there he was, in his birthday suit.

Josh laughed so hard I thought he was gonna pee his pants.  Apparently being naked is hysterical with the preschool set.

I made him get dressed and told him to stay dressed. I suppose in protest he wore his shirt like this most of the rest of the day.

*****

Tess no longer believes in pureed food.  Well, not always; but mostly.  If we're eating it, she wants to eat it.  And if she doesn't get her share?  You'll hear about it.  This morning it was scrambled eggs and toast.  Yummers.

*****

The boys were eating lunch.  I was in my bedroom putting something away when I heard Josh screech "Mom!! You HAVE to come see this!!!"  I thought for sure that Cole was naked again.  But I was wrong.  Thank goodness.

No, the excitement was over the flock of birds that decided to hang out in our back yard.  During a snow storm.

Cole kept yelling, "Ahngry birds!  Ahngry birds!"  (He pronounces it aww-ngry.  Heaven knows why.)  Josh also thought this was hysterical.  Cole was on a roll keeping Josh entertained today.

 

Tess also liked looking at the ahngry birds.  But she also likes grabbing the camera, so there you go.

*****

Actually, not much merriment with Spencer.  He has a lot of homework lately, mainly because I think he's having a hard time getting back into the swing of things at school after winter break. It's too hard to actually work during class time when he could be talking with all of his friends, right?  Ugh.  I think I dreaded back to school more than he did, all because of homework.  At least it's getting shorter each night - apparently it takes him a good 3-4 days to figure out that the less work he does at school the less he gets to play at home. 

*****

For whatever reason, my children have a penchant for leaving stuff on top of heating vents.  All day I walk through the house and pick toys/books/clothes/etc. off of heating vents so that the room will warm up again.  There won't be a single other thing on the floor in a room, but two or three things will be on the vent.  No one has an answer for me.  It's one of those mysteries of the universe, I guess.

No-kay

Cole had just bumped his head on our bed when this little exchange happened.


Cole: Oweeee. 
Me: Cole, are you okay? 
Cole (completely serious): No.  I'm no-kay.  I'm no-kay!!

Two-year olds: what they lack in social skills they totally make up for in entertainment value.

It's Hip to be Square

Spencer had his official eight year old check-up today.  He is 51.5 inches tall and weighs 51.5 pounds.  That's one pound for each inch.

He is, as the doctor said, a perfect square.  (The doctor, by the way, knows her audience.  Spencer thought this was hysterical!)

Old vs. Young

A week ago Friday (so 10 days ago) I took a pretty good fall down the stairs.  I'm not quite sure what happened; one second I was just about to go down the stairs and the next I was at the bottom, in a lot of pain, holding a terrified and screaming baby.

Oh yes - I was holding Tess.  Mother of the year, no?

Other than being quite upset and having sprained her right leg a bit, Tess was fine.  I, on the other hand, was down for the count.  After a good five minutes I drug myself upstairs, took several ibuprofen, and put myself to bed for the rest of the weekend.

By Monday I was hobbling around but still in quite a bit of pain.  (My lower back and backside, if you're curious.  I'm pretty sure my bum hit every stair on the way down.)  I thank my lucky stars that Lance had planned to take this week off, otherwise things could've gotten really ugly around here.  I mean, I could get around and such, but after standing or sitting up or running errands for an hour or two I needed to lay down for a couple of hours to recouperate.

By Saturday I was only feeling sore when I stood up or sat down.  But church today set me back again - those pews and metal folding chairs?  Certainly not meant for my type of injury!  (I should've taken the Boppy to sit on.  I'm sure that wouldn't have drawn any attention to me at all, right?)

Anyways, I've been feeling a little sorry for myself, but mainly I've been feeling dumb for having fallen in the first place.  And old.  So very old.  I didn't think 34 was all that old, but my body is now telling me otherwise.  Oy.

As if to rub it in my face, Cole took a good fall down the stairs a few days ago.  (Sheesh, maybe we need to take a good look at our stairs...)  His fall was probably faster and harder than mine.  But did he fall apart, devour a bottle of ibuprofen, and develop and addiction to the heating pad?  Nope.  He just stood up, said "Ow.", and then proceeded down the rest of the stairs to the basement.

Getting old is tough, especially around the young.

Pink Elephants on Parade

Cole is obsessed with Dumbo.

I have seen/heard it approximately 3,398 times in the past 6 months.  I have every scene, every sound, every word memorized.  Want me to recite it for you?

We keep it in the mini van DVD player, and he knows that if he's good he'll get to watch it when we're out and about, running errands or getting Joshie from preschool.

I am so tired of that dang baby elephant.

Also, should I be concerned that I'm allowing my toddler to watch a movie that shows an elephant and a mouse getting so flat drunk that they have hallucinations about pink elephants, and then end up in a tree getting harassed by some very racially-stereotyped crows?

I guess it's no worse than a movie about monsters who make their living scaring children, or toys who try to kill each other with the garbage incinerator.

"I heard a fireside chat, I saw a baseball bat
And I just laughed till I thought I'd die
But I'd be done see'n about everything
when I see an elephant fly"!!!

Man, I am so tired of Dumbo.

Lockdown

This is actually a picture of Spencer when he was around 18 months old during a tour of Alcatraz.  But hey, Cole wears that same outfit all the time, so just pretend it's Cole behind those bars instead.

Do you have bedtime issues at your house?  We have bedtime issues.  Well, we had bedtime issues.  For a long time we had Bedtime Issues.

Cole would NOT stay in bed.  Could NOT stay in bed.  No matter how tired he was, no matter late it was, no matter if Lance and I were actually standing at his door, glaring in a threatening manner... the child child got out of bed.  We tried all sorts of techniques - time outs, not talking to him and just carrying him back to bed, standing in the doorway, making sure we had a good bedtime routine and schedule, and yelling threats, which was ridiculous because he's two, for Pete's sake. 

It was bad.

Actually, sometimes it wasn't that bad. It would go in cycles: just when we thought he was over this phase, something would trigger his naughty behavior and we'd have to start all over again.  In fact, this is why Cole now sleeps on the top bunk and Josh on the bottom.  We kept having to go into the room to get Cole out of Josh's bed, and then we'd discover Josh sleeping on the floor in the morning.  Heaven only knows why.  So we eventually had Cole move up top, which made them both happier and kept Cole in bed.  For a little while, at least.

And not only would he get out of bed, but he would turn on the light in his room, play with the fan, read books, harass his brother, etc.  The worst was when we would think he was asleep and then we'd go off and do our own thing, only to discover - sometimes hours later - him playing with toys down in the basement.  Then he'd be SUPER tired and grouchy the next day and I'd discover him taking naps in random places around the house, as you have seen in previous posts. 

To make matters worse, he kept getting up in the middle of the night and climbing into bed with me.  This whole phase started when he would get up maybe 10 minutes before the alarm went off.  Ordinarily I am very anti-child-in-the-bed, but 10 minutes is no big deal.  But the problem is, he kept coming in earlier and earlier.  And there was no use in me putting him back to bed because then he would just cry and wake Josh and Tess up. So I would just let him stay in bed with me.  He'd often fall back asleep, but I sure wouldn't.  And this problem kept getting worse and worse and he would come into our room earlier and earlier, so that I found myself dragging him back to his bed at 2 or 3 o'clock in the morning, praying that no other child would wake up.

Why wouldn't Cole wake Lance up?  Why didn't Lance put him back to bed?  These are just some of the questions that will forever remain a mystery.

It was maddening.

It got to the point that we were spending hours getting him to go to bed each night.  (And if you're a parent you know how important those few hours between your children's' bedtime and your bedtime is!) I came to absolutely dread bedtime because I knew it would just be a fight and sometimes I just didn't have any fight left in me.

Finally, one night I just couldn't take it anymore.  I was exhausted, frustrated, and ANGRY.  A bad combination for parenting moments, as any parent knows.  Cole got out of bed for the 1,290th time, and I snapped.  But just before I ran away, screaming down the street and tearing my clothes off in my lunacy (Try to get that image out of your brain!  Ha!), an idea came to me.  A wonderful, awful idea.  (Side note: isn't that what the Grinch's idea was?  Wonderfully awful?  We packed ours away and now I can't check.  Dang.)

Before I could lose the nerve, I scrambled downstairs to the storage room, found a box of old baby locks for door handles, ran back upstairs, and put it on the inside of Josh and Cole's door.

He was trapped.

Cole, as you can imagine, was not happy about this.  At all.

I don't think Lance was, either, but he probably saw the gleam of madness in my eyes.  And although he might not mind seeing me run down the street tearing of my clothes, I think he would rather stay on good terms with the neighbors.  So he wisely did not intervene.

You know what?  Cole was only upset for about 5 minutes.  And then all was quiet.  He had gone to bed.  In his bed.

I had won.

Okay, not that easily.  I mean, that night he went to bed.  But over the next week we had to come up with a new bedtime routine that included what we affectionately call "the lockdown".  First, you read Josh and Cole their bedtime stories and then help them say their prayers.  Then you help them get into bed and tuck them in.  Then you unscrew the light bulb in the closet, pull the chain on the ceiling fan so that neither the light nor the fan can be turned on with the wall switch, and then you make sure the door is closed all the way.  And then you stand at your post outside the door, just for a minute or two, to make sure the inmates are behaving.

Bedtime since we started this?  Not perfect, but I would say 99% better. 

Now, before you go all crazy and call child protective services and such, we do make sure to open the door just a bit after they fall asleep.  So it's not like they wouldn't be able to get out for a potty or some other type of emergency.  Oddly, even though the door is unlocked, Cole rarely comes into our room in the middle of the night anymore.  I wonder if he wakes up and thinks the door is locked, and so just goes back to bed rather than waking me up?  Who cares.  It works.

Still seem dangerous to you?  I consider it much more dangerous to have an unsupervised toddler roaming about the house in the middle of the night, which was a scenario I had discovered more than once with Cole. 

I realize that this fix is only temporary.  Some day in the future that child is going to figure out how to open that lock.  (I've already seen him testing it out - he had the same look of concentration as the velociraptors in Jurassic Park when they were learning how to use door handles.)  But for the time being, I'll take it.

Now, please excuse me.  For some reason I've got a hankerin' to watch Cool Hand Luke.  Think I could get the boys to start calling me "Boss"?

Tess Learns to Splash

Tess generally has a shower with me in the mornings, so she's never really learned how to splash.  (I know, I'm a terrible mother!  Splashing is a rite of passage in babyhood, right?!)  No matter, I rectified the issue last week when I bathed Tess in the kitchen sink.

She figured out pretty quick how to splash and made good use of all her sink time.  The kitchen was pretty well soaked by the end. 

By the way, my favorite part is at the end when Cole gets after Tess for splashing - that boys doesn't have the nickname "Shamu of the Tub" for no reason.

Things 1-4

My Dad and Susie had a chance to go to Universal Studios in Florida last month and picked up these awesome Cat In The Hat Thing shirts for the kiddos.  We tried to get a picture of all of them together and in order - you can imagine (and see) how well that went over. (Mainly due to the behavior of punk Things 2 and 3.) No matter - they are all darling in them!  Thank you, Grandpa and Grandma!