Cookies!

Who doesn’t love cookies?  Adults?  Kids?

Two Year Olds???

Oh yes, our CamCam is a big fan of cookies.  I really do enjoy baking, but I do not bake cookies often.  This is because my kids act like they have been deprived of cookies their entire childhood when I make them. 

“Leader of the Fab Five” slyly grabs a handful everytime he walks into the kitchen.  It’s all done in one fluid motion, walk into kitchen- walk to cookies without looking at them so as to appear uninterested- do not slow down as you pass the cookies- quickly reach one arm out and grab whatever your hand can hold- faster then the human eye can see tuck arm back into body hiding cookies- quickly make your escape to your room. 

“Little Miss” always asks first.  But she takes her asking to the extreme.  One of the other kids will ask if they can have one, and I’ll say yes.  Then, in her sad-I’m-absolutely-wasting-away-to-nothing-from-starvation voice she’ll quietly say “Mom?  Can I have one?”  Sometimes I like to mess with her and say “No, He can but you can’t.”  I have a sick sense of humor.  And of course once they’re all gone, she always cries about how it’s no fair, she hardly got any.

“Mr. Trouble” does a combination of asking and sneaking.  If I’m in the room, he will ask.  He’s on a schedule like this:

10:00  Mom, can I have a cookie?  No.
10:01  Mom, can I have a cookie?  No.
10:02  Mom, now can I have a cookie?  NO!
10:02 1/2  Mom, can I have a cookie now?   Grrrrr!!!

But of course if I’m not in the room, he will grab whatever he can and eat and eat until I get back in.  And, stupidly, I always ask him if he ate cookies.  And, innocently, he always replies no.  Guess the crumbs hanging from his face and hands are from something else.

CamCam just follows along with whatever everyone else is doing.  He tags along like a little puppy, waiting for the leftovers. 

Today though, he woke  up before everyone else and had the house to himself.  I thought I heard someone downstairs, and then there was CamCam, at the edge of my bed, holding his hand in that special way he holds it when it’s dirty and needs to be washed.  I didn’t have my glasses on, and so was a little concerned about what mess his little hand got into considering it was being shoved into my face.  But I smelled sweetness, and knew all was ok. 

“CamCam, did you eat cookies?”
“Nnnnnope!”
“Do you need to wash your hands?”|
“Yyyyyyup!”

So I went downstairs with him and “Mr. Trouble” followed.  As usual, “Mr. Trouble” went over to the counter to where the cookies were.  Then he cried: “uhhhhhh, no fair!  Someone ate all the cookies!”

And little CamCam, over at the sink washing up, laughed and said in his best “na-na I got it and you didn’t” voice:

“Ha-haa.  I ate all the cookies!”

Which, I gotta admit, made me smile, but I put on a good show and said: “CamCam, that’s not very nice!”

Which he replied to by rubbing his tummy. 
“Yum, yum, yum!  It was goooood!”

No, I do not buy my boys capri PJ’s

It’s very simple really.  “Mr. Trouble” is bottom shelf, CamCam is the next shelf up, “The Baby” is the next 2 shelves.  I even kept them in order according to age. 

Or, if that doesn’t work for you, if your son looks like this:

 

then you know that you’ve probably chosen the wrong shelf.

Better read this one quickly, I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before “The Dada” asks me to delete it.  :)

Hoping “The Dada” Doesn’t Read This One

Is it a toddler’s mission in life to ruin anything nice their parents buy?  We finally replaced our couch because the kids had ruined it, and everyday since I’ve been under constant stress over our new couches.  The old one had been peed on, thrown up on, jumped on so many times the springs had broken, ripped and drawn ALL over.  So you can see where my stress is coming from.

Recently we refinished our hardwood floors, and just last night we finally brought our couches back into our living room. 

This morning I fed CamCam breakfast- lovely, sticky Honey Nut Cheerios.  As usual, half way through he gave up on the slow spoon and resorted to grabbing his cereal by the fistful and shoving it into his mouth.  I walked by him on my way upstairs to get “The Baby”, and mentioned to CamCam that he needed to use his spoon. 

I come downstairs to find that my 2 little boys had finished their breakfast, and both had been playing on the couch.  All the cushions were still off the big one, and piled up in the corner. 

Jumping on springs and climbing pillow mountains!  Could I have left a more inviting scenario for them???

At the moment I walked into the room, CamCam was walking across the couch, hands placed on the back for balance.  All I could see was Sticky Honey Hands sliding across the back of my couch.  I told him to get down off my couch, he had to wash his hands after he ate. 

He sneezed across the back of my couch.

Turned around to get down, and sneezed across the front. 

I saw something fly out. 

I grab him to wash his hands, and “Mr. Trouble” seized the moment to run up "Pillow Mountain.”  I grab “Mr. Trouble” to wash his hands, and turn back around to see CamCam jumping up and down on the springs.  It was like a trampoline- boing! boing! boing! 

I shoo both of them away, go to the kitchen to get a bottle, and come back to see CamCam standing up on the arm of the couch, ready to jump. 

This couch doesn’t stand a chance.

I’m Confused

I think CamCam is messing with me.  He has been so whiney lately, and every little thing is resulting in him having a meltdown.  I’ve reached my “Whine Limit”, and so try to avoid his fits as much as possible. 

If he asks for a particular food or drink, and you give him the wrong one, he has a complete fit.  So I try really hard to decipher his toddler babble and what he wants.

But I think he’s purposefully trying to drive me nuts.

Today he wanted a drink.  He came to me and said:  “Ma, I milk.”

Me: “Ok, you want some milk.”

CamCam: “Yes”  (wait 10 seconds) “A-ju, a-ju, Aaaaaaa-juuuuuu!” 

A-Ju is his word for apple juice.  So as I stood up I asked him, “You want apple juice?”

He said yes.  We started to walk towards the fridge and he clapped and said: “YAY!  Milk!”

Huh?

We get to the fridge and I asked him if he wanted apple juice or milk. 

He said yes.

So I had a smart moment, opened the fridge, and told him to show me what he wanted.  He pointed to the apple juice and said “A-Ju”.  That seemed pretty clear to me.  I pulled it out, which got another round of applause, set up the cup and started to pour.

I was mid-pour, the juice was actually in mid-air, it had officially left the jar but hadn’t yet touched the bottom of the cup, when I hear a little voice next to me exclaim:

”MILK!”

Ok, You Win

CamCam, mommy is sorry.  You’ve been showing me the signs that you are ready to begin potty training for awhile now, and I’ve chosen to ignore them.  I was still feeling pretty beaten up from potty training your older brother.  It took him over a year, and this has been the first week we’ve been 100% pull-up free.  (even at night, yay!) Mommy was tired of potty training and wanted a break.

But you were ready.  It’s not your fault he took forever.  It looks like fun to you, and you wanted to be a part of The Big Boy Club.

I’ve humored you and let you sit on your little potty when you asked.  But I didn’t give it my all.  I should have talked it up.  Made you a potty chart.  Encouraged you throughout the day to try it out. 

So I’m not at all mad at you for taking matters into your own hands tonight.

I understand.

Sure, I was a little surprised when you came up to me with your shirt soaking wet.  I was even more surprised when I lifted it up and saw you without a diaper.  So I asked you where your diaper was.

CamCam:  Uh, da ga-bage.

Mommy:  Why did you put your diaper in the garbage?

CamCam:  It gross.  I pooped.

Sure, the wasn’t a liner in the garbage can.  My fault again.  Think I’ll just buy a new garbage can.

And sure you were wet with toilet water.  But that’s my fault too.  Because if I had taken the time to properly toilet train you, you’d know that when you went to wipe yourself, it would be ok to just throw the paper in. 

You didn’t have to physically place the toilet paper at the very bottom of the toilet.  There’s no need to get yourself soaked up to your elbows like that. 

So tomorrow we will start. 

Just remember, you asked for it.

Now It’s Your Turn to Be Two

 

You wanna know what’s cool about having a baby brother?

Pretend for a minute that you’re two.  No, not that there’s two of you, that YOU are TWO. 

You there?

Ok.

Now pretend that your belly is insanely large for your body size, and it’s been like 5 whole minutes since your mom fed you lunch.  You’re starving.  You can hear the grumbling.  You know if you ask your mom for food, she’ll probably say something dumb, like, how she just fed you lunch and so no more eating.  She doesn’t understand the grumble in your tummy.  It doesn’t care that you just ate lunch, it wants more. 

Now.

So knowing that your mom will say no, you wait for a moment when she’s distracted. 

There it is. 

She’s busy typing on that machine.  Probably writing about you.  Humph! 

So you sneak walk your little two year old self over to the “Keeper of All That is Yummy”. 

There it is.  mmmmmmm

And you’re in luck!  Someone foolishly left it unlocked.  You open it, and right in front of you is a box of goodness.

It’s a rather big box for your little two year old self.  So you grab it with both hands and turn.  The box is really big, and you can’t see through it.  You try to lower it so you can see over it, but your arms are short and the box is big.  There’s only one other way to go.

Up.

So you raise the box way up over your head and you begin to walk to the table.  It’s a bit top heavy, so it’s practically upside down.

Suddenly your mom notices you.  She’s acting crazy.  You get a confused look on your face.  What’s her problem?  She runs over to you and grabs the box out of your hands.  You look down and notice that the floor is covered in cheerios.

Oops.

A whole box of yumminess wasted. 

Uh, oh, mom’s really upset.  She tells you that you are picking up every single one of those little o’s by yourself and throwing them in the garbage.  There’s got to be bazillions of them!  You tell her “No!”, but she’s pretty insistent. 

And then, who comes crawling over, but your baby brother.  You look in amazement as he crawls right into the middle of the big mess and starts eating like there’s a shortage of food or something.

 

 

How’d he know you needed help? 

Sometimes it’s pretty cool to have a baby brother.

What's the World Record for Number of Meltdowns in One Day?

Oh.


My.


Goodness.


What a day.  And it's not even noon.  CamCam has outdone himself.  I am declaring today official "Meltdown Day".


It all started right after CamCam woke up.  "Mr. Trouble" was playing with this little lego car, and CamCam had a FIT.  Apparently he felt it was his, and he wanted it.


Now.


CamCam was the last person playing with the car last night before bed, and to CamCam night time doesn't reset ownership of said vehicle, it just pauses it.  I told CamCam no, that "Mr. Trouble" had the car first.  "Mr. Trouble" looked at CamCam as if he was crazy, and handed over the car, and picked up another instead.   CamCam threw the lego car down the stairs and demanded the new one. 


I knew right then that this was going to be a very long day.


We headed out soon after that for an early appointment.  Someone PLEASE remind me to never again book an appointment for 9AM.  Anyways, I pull into the parking space, and tell "Mr. Trouble" to unbuckle himself and wait on the sidewalk for me.  I go to get out "The Baby", and CamCam has a fit.  He wants out, and is absolutely furious that "Mr. Trouble" is out of the van and not him.   I let him push the button to shut the van door and this makes him very happy.


We then get to the building's automatic doors, and "Mr. Trouble" is a bit ahead of us and so the doors open for him.  CamCam screams.  "I open, I open, I open!"   I never thought it would be possible for a child to fight over getting to open an automatic door.  I tell him he can go first for the next set, and just as we get inside, a group of people are coming the other way and "open" the door instead.   


Meltdown. 


I coax CamCam inside, telling him to hurry so he can push the elevator button.  He eagerly does this, and once inside the elevator I tell "Mr. Trouble" that it is his turn.  CamCam has a fit.  I still have yet to figure out why pushing a button is so much fun.  But I do know this- if I ever invent a child's toy, it will just be a tray of elevator buttons that light up.  I'd take it with me everywhere. 


I shall not bore you will the details of all the fits CamCam threw at our appointment.  Let's just say that toys were thrown, pretzels were dumped, and screaming ensued when the germ-filled pretzels were not allowed to be eaten. 


Once at home, it wasn't any better.  No matter what toy his brother had, CamCam wanted it.  Nothing pleased him.  Finally they went downstairs to color, and all I heard was nonstop screaming from CamCam.  I went down to investigate, and "Mr. Trouble" said CamCam was crazy. 


I figure an early nap may be in order for CamCam.  He's up there now, but I'm not confident any napping will occur.  All I hear is him knocking on the door and asking to be let out.  It sounds a little something like this:
OP!  (bang)  PEN!  (bang)  DOOR!! (bang)  NOWWWW!!! (bang, bang)


He's got to be tired though.  I don't see how all these meltdowns haven't zapped him of all his energy. 


I know they did me.