Super Jake

Jake is my tough guy, super hero.

He'll come home from the park with a bleeding gash on his knee and proudly exclaim, "I don't need a band-aid. I'm TOUGH!"

If Jacob had super powers, they would have to be his alluring charm, incredible memory, and super head strength. He was born with a whopping sized head (my dad affectionately nicknamed him Charlie Brown because he was all noggin as a baby). I can't tell you how many times he's fallen and landed square on to his round dome of a head (a little top-heavy, I guess). But he always gets right back up and brushes it off like it never happened.

Watch out villans, we got some killer head here!

His favorite super hero task is to bring in my mail every afternoon. Because, you know, sometimes this chore requires a cape. When I ask him if he needs a sweatshirt, Jacob puffs out his chest indignantly and exclaims, "I'm not cold. I'm just tough!"

Plus it would clash with his cape. And who am I to argue with a super hero?

Apparently being tough is a prerequisite to being able to push your own buttons on the microwave. At least that's what Super Jake tells me.

But even Super Jake has his kryptonite. Despite his tough-boy qualities, Jacob Palmer is terrified of.......insects. But not just any insects; mostly just the tiny ones.

Jacob was chasing his cousin around at the condo in Lake Chelan last week when he stopped dead in his tracks, turned pale, pointed frantically to the ceiling, and screamed, "LOOK! ANT! THERE'S AN ANT ON THE CEILING!!! DADDY KILL IT!"

His daddy looked up at the microscopic ant about 5 feet above Jacob's head, then looked back at his son. Jacob was prancing around the room hysterically, like a tweenie in the autograph line at a Justin Beiber concert. Daddy just said, "I can't reach it. Don't worry about the ant. He's so tiny. He won't hurt you."

Jacob replied to this logic calmly, "HE'S MOVING! HELP. AHHHHHH. GET HIM. KILL HIM NOW!" There was no reasoning with him. It was Jacob versus microscopic ant. Microscopic ant had to be crushed before the planet could resume spinning.

Then today, I sent Jacob outside to play in his sand box. After not too long, I heard a shriek. My first thought was that a child stealer had snuck into our yard and was thrusting Jacob into a creepy, unmarked van. But then Jacob flew through the front door crying hysterically.

"What?! What's wrong? Tell me what happened!"

Through his sobs, Jacob recounted the horrible, tragic turn of events. "I CAN'T EVEN PLAY IN MY SANDBOX!" Sob. "IT'S IN THERE! I CAN NEVER PLAY IN THE SAND AGAIN!"

"Jacob, what are you talking about?!" I followed him out the front door to his sand box.

With a trembling finger, Jacob pointed under a toy car. "THERE!" He sobbed and erupted into more tears.

I pulled back the toy car and saw a teeny tiny, squirming earwig burrowing into the sand.

"This?! You're crying over this little bug?"

"Mommy, get him!"

I guess no matter how tough or super you are, sometimes you still need to call on the powers of Super Mommy. I scooped the bug up into a little cup and tossed him over the railing. ... And now, there is an earwig vacationing somewhere in Jacob's red wagon (a story for tomorrow, perhaps?)

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.

Beach Sand...Sans Beach

I haven't been tempted to venture outside since our week of rain and clouds at Lake Chelan. But keeping an energetic 3 year old occupied in a 900 square foot house is no easy task. Last night, I ran across a fun activity on Pinterest and, once I discovered I had all the ingredients, did not hesitate to try it out!

We mixed some flour and baby oil together and ta-da! Moldable sand! If you have ever been to a children's museums or indoor play center, you may have encountered it before. This stuff feels awesome, it's like crack for your fingers. Oh yeah, Jacob liked it too.

First it was a home for his dinosaurs.

Then it became a construction site.

Then we went a little crazy, filled a storage bin full of the stuff and took it outside (things were getting a little messy!).

Jacob played with this stuff for 2 hours straight! Then right after his nap, he requested to go outside and play with it some more.

This stuff feels so awesome. Admittedly, during Jake's naptime, I went outside to play with it myself..... But look, it's both crumbly AND moldable!

 Not so awesome: the mess it leaves behind. Definitely an outside toy!

Don't worry daddy, we cleaned it up (mostly) before you got home.

How to make it:

1) Measure 12 cups of flour into a large bin (or bowl)
2) Add 1.5 cups of baby oil (I found a use for all the baby oil I got at my baby shower!!)
3) Stir it all up with your hands and crumble the mixture until well combined.

If it's too crumbly to form into a ball, you may want to add more baby oil. Oh yeah, and the baby oil smells AMAZING! It's crack for your nose (um, you know what I mean).

Lake Chelan In Pictures

I'm exhausted. Cannot post in full sentences. But here is the low-down for our past week.

Road trip to lake. Stayed for a week. Weather was crummy but company was good.

Enjoyed indoor heated pool. Everyday.

Rented speed boat (awesome! I grew up with a speedboat so it's like taking a dip back into my childhood).

First Mate

Learned to make fire. Where's my girlscout badge?

Ate some s'mores. Then ate some more.

Created a scavanger hunt for the kids. Drawing of deer and squirrel = epic!

Fed some goats. Goats are cute. Want!

Played a little golf.

Youngest turned two months old.

Pooped all over.

Then drank himself to sleep.

But for reals. He's the cutest!

Rough Days: I Have Them

I'm having a rough mom day. Ryan just won't sleep. He usually spends 75% of the day snoozing away. Today it's been more like 15% . He's exhausted but just won't stay asleep! It seems like he's been screaming all day. (Today, he's definitely earned his nickname Cryin' Ryan). This is very unusual for him, my normally content baby!

Then there's my suddenly troublesome three year old. He is constantly nagging and then pouting if he doesn't get what he wants (snacks in bed, more TV, going to a very specific park, to not have to wear socks!).
He is becoming a very inquisitive and curious three year old. All day long, I'm fielding his interesting little questions.

"What happens if I don't say excuse me after I burp?"
"What does that sign say?"
"What does 'I'm counting on you' mean?"
"What does THAT sign say?"
"What about that sign over there."
"Why can we only drive 50 miles per hour?"
"Is 50 fast or slow?"
"Is that car driving too fast?"
"Why do the police get you if you go too fast?"

Then, my personal fave:

"Can I lick your tongue and you can lick my tongue?"

SERIOUSLY?

So yeah, today has been rough. I almost entertained the idea of dropping my kids off on a random doorstep and running away to Coldstone for a triple scoop of cookie-dough ice cream. But then I looked at the calendar on my phone and realized my maternity leave is almost half over and started to freak out. Because really, I can't fathom leaving both kids (especially the baby) for an entire day. They may be trouble, but they are MY trouble. Waaaahhhh - cue the tear flood.

In the midst of the rough moments, there are always plenty of sweet ones:

He fell asleep in time out

Grumpy face

A Message From Ryan

"I Feel Pretty"

I usually wake up looking like this each morning (and for the days that I take the time to clean myself up, I usually end up looking like this again by the early afternoon):