Leaving On A Jet Plane

Back in March, my mom said to me, "Hey, wouldn't it be fun to take Luke to India?" And I said, "Yes, it would be AWESOME!" And from that short, two-lined conversation sprang months and months of plans. Here's the thing though: back in March? Luke was 10 months old and although he was crawling like a fiend, he was not walking...or climbing...or talking incessantly about trucks. So when I said, "Yes, it would be AWESOME," I wasn't necessarily thinking ahead to the walking, climbing, truck-talking toddler he'd be 9 months down the road.

Now, the trip is two days away and people, I'm nervous. 5 hours in a car, a night spent at my mom's house, another hour or two in a car, two hours in an airport, two hours on a plane, two more hours in an airport, 9 hours on a plane, three hours in an airport, and 10 hours on a plane. WHAT WAS I THINKING?!

Here's what I was thinking: yummy food; people I love and haven't seen in two-and-a-half years and won't see again for who-knows-how-long; WARM WEATHER; a huge, family wedding; and oh, did I mention the food and the weather?

I'm looking forward to the destination, but man, I wish I could skip the journey.

Mischief Makers

We were supposed to go to a playdate today, but it got canceled, so we've been hanging out at home instead. By which I mean that...
-A pair of dress up wings has been broken.
-One book has been eaten and another one torn up.
-Two pairs of shoes have been shoved under the couch.
-A giant scuff has been put in the wall because a small human being decided it would be fun to take a toy hammer to it.
-I have heard an endless chorus of "Ouch, Other Baby! No, Other Baby! Stop, Other Baby," coming from Luke. Other Baby, for his part, thinks the reaction is great, so keeps on doing whatever elicited the protests in the first place.
-Snot has been wiped onto every available surface in our apartment. Every. Single. One. Including Yellow Cat.
-Half masticated bits of pineapple have been spit onto the carpet.
-A cup of water has been dumped out onto the floor and the resulting puddle was then splashed everywhere.
-The decision has been made that we will NEVER spend an entire day at home, EVER AGAIN.

Not What I Had In Mind

On Saturday, we were out shopping and decided to stop at a sandwich place for lunch and to our great surprise, Santa showed up and set up camp outside with Mrs. Claus and a whole passel of elves. And! They took a picture of us with Mr. and Mrs. Claus...for FREE. Sounds too good to be true, right?

Yeah. Here's the picture that was emailed to me later that day:

Is it just me or does Mrs. Claus look a little annoyed?

My Morning Work-Out

Before Luke was born, people kept telling me that after I had a kid, showers would become impossible, rare occurrences. I'll admit, I scoffed at them--after all, it's a 10-minute shower. How hard could it be? And at first, it really wasn't hard. Luke would chill on the floor or in his crib or in the bouncer and it was no problem. Then, he figured out how to crawl and flip over his bouncer, but still, I could put him in the play pen or the exersaucer with some toys (and later, a snack), and all was fine.

But now, half the time, I wait until Other Baby gets here to shower, which is a BAD idea, I KNOW it's a bad idea, but the lure of staying in bed for an extra 20 minutes always wins out over good sense. So there are two toddlers roaming the bedroom and bathroom while I try to take a super-quick, 5-minute shower. The problem, of course, is that there are 300 seconds in 5 minutes. Do you KNOW how much trouble two toddlers can get into in 300 seconds? My showers these days go something like this:

-Wait for the water to warm up while setting the toddlers up with some new and unusual toy--fabric scraps, blocks that are usually out of reach, a box full of hats--ANYTHING to buy myself some time.
-By the time the water is warm, the new and unusual toy has become old and boring.
-Hop in, praying that they'll find an appropriate way to entertain themselves for 300 seconds.
-Hear the sounds of drawers opening. Peek out, only to discover that they have opened all the drawers in the two dressers and are busily emptying all the folded, stacked clothes out onto the floor. Decide that's an appropriate form of entertainment, if only it'll get you another 250 seconds.
-Hear metallic sounds. Jump out of the shower, run across the bedroom dripping wet, and rescue a box of earrings from an eager, toddler hand. A box of earrings which, I might add, was OUT OF REACH yesterday, but apparently, one of them has gained an inch overnight. Put the box up even higher.
-Hop back in, try to stop shivering, reach for the soap. Hear the sound of a toilet being opened. Peek out. A toddler has thrown something into the toilet and is now poking at it with the (gross, disgusting) toilet brush. Hop out, still dripping wet and freezing, peer into the toilet, decide that since whatever it was is no longer visible, it's probably small enough to be flushed. Return toilet brush to holder, usher toddlers out of bathroom, suggest they look for trucks outside the window.
-Hop back in, shampoo hair. Hear...nothing. It's never this quiet. Peek out. Oh. They've closed the bathroom door. Hop out, open the bathroom door, find them in the process of climbing on an overturned laundry basket so they can get back into the box of earrings. SERIOUSLY? They closed the door and got themselves a basket to climb on, just so they could get to a forbidden object? Are one-year-olds SUPPOSED to be this diabolical already?
-Shampoo is now dripping into eyes. Decide that the easiest thing to do at this point is to take the laundry basket INTO THE SHOWER with you so they can't use it as a ladder again. (Yes, it would've been better to put it in the closet or the living room, but Dude, shampoo. In my eyes.)
-Wash out the shampoo, decide that's good enough for today, turn off water, and get out of the shower. Two runny-nosed toddlers are overcome with joy that you've returned to play with them, so they run up and give you big hugs (read: they wipe their snot on your legs) and kisses (read: drool on your arms.)

Seems to me, I was just as clean before the shower. Plus, I'm pretty sure I didn't get all the shampoo out. Showering with a baby was EASY. Showering with two toddlers should count as an Olympic event.

Dances with Toddlers

It has been an exhausting week, even though as weeks go around here, it was a pretty laid-back one. Other Baby was on vacation, then he was sick, so he's only been here for a couple of days and I still think that having one toddler is harder than having two because when there's only one? You have to actually ENTERTAIN that one. And they have the attention span of a hyperactive gnat. So we spent most of the week stepping out of our comfort zone and trying out new things.

I always scoffed at baby and toddler music classes (and art classes and whatever-else classes) because...really? A bunch of adults singing nursery rhymes and dancing around with scarves? And this is good for development how, exactly? But I finally bit the bullet and went to one this past week because (a) a bunch of my friends were going to be there with their toddlers and (b) it was cold and I didn't want to bundle us up, just so we could go freeze on the playground. And the apartment doesn't appreciate it when we stay home all day. Something about how we're raucous and messy and it needs a break every now and then.

As it turns out, Luke HATES toddler music classes. It was one, long, drawn-out tantrum. First, he didn't like the singing. Then, he didn't want the singing to stop. Then, he didn't want to dance. Then, he didn't want to stop dancing. Suffice it to say that I was plenty glad to leave. (Except I think we're going back next week because as much as Luke hated it, that's how much I expect Other Baby will LOVE it. He's all about dancing around with scarves, that one.)