The Leaking Canoe (I Wish This Was A Reference To Some Rustic Winery)

Having more than one child is like being in a leaking canoe. You reach over to plug one hole and water starts gushing out of another (you will soon see why the liquid metaphor is so appropriate). Soon, you're full of water and sinking by the minute. Until naptime. Then sanity comes to visit again...for about an hour.

The morning started out with a bang, or should I say trickle? Jacob woke up at 7am covered in pee. He wet his bed...AGAIN. He ONLY wets his bed when we are home. At Lake Chelan, he woke up dry every single morning. Then we came home and -voila!- he wets his bed. But he sleeps over at my parents' house and he is dry again. WTF? Ok Universe, this cruel joke can stop now. I stopped putting sheets on his bed and I am currently researching the best place to buy a toddler-sized catheter.

Since his two month shots on Monday, Ryan has been sleeping all day, only waking to eat, coo, and kick his legs before he's back to dreamland. This kid is not a napper. I'm almost worried. But maybe this is some kind of wonderful gift. Like God is throwing me a little bone: "Sorry for all those hours you had to spend washing pee sheets and scrubbing liquid poop out of baby clothes. Here, I'll let your baby sleep for two days so that you can kick yourself later and say, 'DANG, I should have done something productive instead of staring at Facebook all day waiting for my baby to wake up'."

Although he's been sleepy, Ryan does not lack in the messy department.

Exhibit A:

Spit up on the floor.

Exhibit B:

Spit up on me. 

Impeccable aim.

While I was cleaning up these messes, I heard Jacob thumping around. I turn my head to see him on all flours, barking like an angry lesbian (no offense, I love lesbians). "Oh, what a cute puppy you are." I say as I reach down to pet him

Fast forward two minutes and I find him in the kitchen lapping water out of the cat's bowl. I scolded him for drinking dirty cat water ('cause now I have to REFILL the bowl!) and enlightened him on the dangers of cat-breath flu. Well, my mistake for not telling him that cat FOOD was equally off-limits because not one minute later I caught him chewing a small handful of the stuff (at least it's organic?).

Oh, by the way, have you ever wondered what a wood floor looks like after a night of heavy drinking and playing kissy-face with an amateur artist? It wakes up to discover three new tattoos of disembodied super heroes:

I can't fully blame Jacob for this one. The tattoo wrapper fell off and the tattoos somehow ended up face down on the floor.

Later, as I sat down to do some sewing crafts, Jacob joined me at the table with his ham and cheese sandwich.

"Mommy?" He says. "How come when I smile, my shadow doesn't smile?"

"Um...." Think quick. "Your shadows DOES smile, you just can't see it."

"Mommy? How come my shadow doesn't have a shadow?"

With that, it was time to let the TV take over. I let Jacob watch Mr. Popper's Penguins (or as he calls it, Pimper Pomper's Penguins).

I was about to sit down and finish my crafts when Ryan began to stir. Then came THE SMELL. Nursing moms know what I'm talking about: THE smell. The smell of sweet and tangy, buttery popcorn radiating from your baby's soggy diaper.

Liquid. Poop. So liquid that it oozed all over me and the floor, like runny, orange mustard (I'll spare you a photo). And just when I got a new diaper back on, spit-up rushed out of Ryan's mouth like a volcano. Like I said: leaking canoe, plug the holes!

After I contained the mess, I changed Ryan's outfit and per Jacob's request, placed him in Jacob's lap. Jacob pet his head and began to talk to him. "Hi Ry. I'm watching Pimper Pomper's Penguins." He bathed him in kisses and nose honks. Ryan cooed back at his big brother. Then Jacob hugged Ryan's head and whispered, "I'll always be with you, little bro."

More liquid...but this time, just my tears.