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Doin the best I can, Doin the best I can, Doin the best I can!


These are my crazy boys in my crazy house with their chairs lined up screaming, "Chugga chugga choo choo! Chugga chugga choo choo! Chugga chugga choo choo!" You either decide it's cute and you take their picture or you stick your fingers in your ears and disappear into your room with a bottle of vodka. Yesterday I was a good mom. I took the picture.

Things have been as insane as usual with a house closing and lots of house showings thrown in. Today a group came to see our house an hour earlier than they'd told us. Four people walked around the completely lit bedroom while John slept in a playpen in the middle and never even rolled over. George did his part for our happily childless potential buyers. He ran into the room following them and said, "I have a poop!" Then once I finally got him into the dining room so we could give the people some space he said, "There's a TABLECLOTH on the table, Momoe!" I was waiting for him to say, "The house doesn't smell like shit today, Daddy!" Or, "Why aren't there any stepped-on peas smeared over the floor?"

The toilet seat in the master bathroom has been crooked and falling off for months, so we figured we better fix it before people came to see the house. The boys and I waited in the car for Will outside of Lowe's and when I saw him leave the store, I said, "Here comes Daddy with the new toilet seat." "Is it Blues Clues?" John wanted to know. Speaking of potty training, James has been doing pretty well going number-one on the potty when we make him sit there. And it's all for the blue Hershey's "kissables." He can do anything if he wants something bad enough.

The other day James and Will and I were in our room for some reason--I don't know where the other guys were. Anyway, something reminded Will of Miami and Will started talking about how great Miami was and I said, "One day we'll take you to Miami, James." He really would love it. The pools, the beach, the maid service, the fluffy pillows. Will said, "Yeah, James we'l take you to Miami." "No," James said. "Not YOUR Ami, Momoe's Ami." It was pretty funny. In the midst of all the cuteness though we've been dealing with biting fights, fights over stealing toys, fights over the step tool in the bathroom. It's enough to drive a woman mad.

I'm going to tell a story on myself that I'm not proud of, but I tell it 1) because anyone else who's done what I've done should know it's perfectly natural to feel like doing it and you aren't the only one and there are surely a lot worse things you can do, and 2) because anyone who hasn't done it can have a heads-up and try really hard not to do it. The other day James was doing something to annoy George and I'm sure it warranted a response. But what came out of George's mouth was," You're a pain, James!" The tone, cadence, pitch, and wording were all too familiar. I'd heard myself say it just like that countless times before. James can be a real pain. James deserves to be called out on it at times. But when I heard George so effortlessly throw that sentence out there, I knew it had been said too effortlessly and too many times by me. I should be able to handle James' sometimes frustrating antics without having to lash out and call him a pain. Sure, it's not the worst word I could call him, but maybe the fact that I must have purposely picked a less offensive word than some shows if I were conscious enough to temper my vocabulary, I was conscious enough to temper my temper and just keep my mouth shut. I'm the grown-up--I'm supposed to be able to control myself and not really expect that three-year-old boys can all that much. Anyway, they really are little sponges and they soak up everything we say and do even when we don't notice we're saying it or doing it. It's one thing to teach them the right ways to do things but it's another to be living it yourself. And it's not easy being in responsible grown-up mode 24-7 when you're surrounded by glow-in-the-dark lizards and thumb-sized plastic horses and you spend most of your time listening to such circular conversations as "Chugga chugga choo choo chugga chugga choo choo," "Cinder-ellie, Cinder-ellie, Cinder-ellie," and "You're a bap bap--no, you're a bap bap." But next time I feel like yelling something as bad or worse than, "You're a pain, James," I'm going to do the responsible adult thing. Go in my room, shut the door, pick up the phone, dial Will's number, and yell at him. :)



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