Not a Bum Wing!!!!

So the littliest one cannot stand up this morning. Not at all. Can't put weight on his left leg. I ask him what happened, since he was fine yesterday and has been in a crib all night. He says, "I bwoke my weg." "You broke your leg?" I ask. "Yep. It bwoken. It baaaad. I go doctor and get a sucker. It dat bad."

Obviously, he hasn't fallen out of bed and Beaux was within ear shot, so I know he wasn't in there messing w/ him. So I start quizzing him.

"Did you get it hung in the rails of your crib?"

"Yep. De duck cage got me." (He calls his crib filled w/ ducks his 'duck cage' which is entirely too cute...until you're in the grocery store with little old ladies surrounding you and he spouts out that he 'sweeps in a duck cage'. Ironically, this comes out clear as a bell much like him calling himself 'Super Poosey'. -you'll have to sound that one out for yourself.)

In disbelief I say, "Did you fall out of bed?" -knowing he didn't.

"Yep. I fewell and bwoke it. Fewell wite out of my duck cage."

"Was it an old war wound? Is that he knee you injured jumping horses?"

"Yep. De horsey got me."

Okay, now I know two things. One, you can never trust this one to tell you the truth. Two, he honestly has no clue what happened to his 'weg'. So I call the doctor.

Thorough inspection turns out that it isn't his knee after all, but inflammation in the hip joint. Who knew?! And the treatment for such a mallady in this modern age of medicine.... Motrin. Yes, Motrin. That's it.

Oh, and apparently a $20 copay will ease the pain as well.

No kids, eh?

The moving man came to assess the amount of work involved in packing and moving this house. Man, I really feel for that guy. He seemed pleased with it all until he hit the garage...it's full of mom's antique furniture. When I say full, I mean can barely fit a lawn mower in there and don't even consider a car....even a small one.

We walked through the entire house with Beaux and Spruce doing their best to get his attention. "Mistew Woowis, I have a new toy boat! Wook!" "Mistew Woowis, my daddy is in WaaWee." "Mistew Woowis! Watch Me!" "Mistew Woowis! Wook how high I can bounce on my bed!"





Beaux had bounced on Spruce's face. Yeah, I reckon that got Mistew Woowis's attention. After that incident he rushed down stairs, had me sign the papers and ran out the door before I could ask any questions.

Puzzled, I walk back in the door and realize that Spruce's injury was a bit more than some hurt feelings. His lip was full-on bleeding and that mixed with drool...well, let's just say it looked pretty bad.

So maybe it was the blood covering my shirt that made him run for the hills...

Light weight.

Soooo tempting

So I'm downstairs, trying to clean the house INCASE by some weird chance someone actually wants to come see it. (Sooo not going to happen.) I'm actually making progress too. The kitchen is almost clean, the living room, aside from all the cushions off the couch and toys strewn across the floor...okay, who am I kidding. It's a damn wreck in here.

Then I hear, "MOMMA! WE'RE STUCK! RESCUE US!" coming from upstairs. Fighting the temptation to find the camera first, I reluctantly head upstairs to 'rescue them'.

Yeah, somehow Beaux had locked himself and Spruce in the dog's crate. I have no clue how he managed to get the lock on there from inside, but I just really hope he doesn't teach that trick to Molly.

Standing over the crate I have an epiphany. This is why I originally said I would stick with dogs instead of kids. This was it right here. You can crate a dog and be done with it. I now have to let the 'puppies' out to terrorize the rest of my house.

It's a shame that they really wanted out...

A Balloon for Nana

Beaux and Spruce were given prize possessions this evening. Balloons.

Generally I avoid helium balloons like the plague, but after an entire day of fighting with Beaux over simple things I had pretty much lost the will to live.

He spent the entire evening with the balloon. First it had to be tied to his wrist, then to his frog, then to his wrist again because it was choking the frog. The balloon went to the bathroom, flew around in the car and just happened to cause a 'whacking fight' in the backseat with Spruce's balloon. Apparently from all witnesses present, it was not Beaux or Spruce's fault but the balloon that caused the uproar.

Finally we arrived at the apartment. We get out of the car and Beaux looks up at the sky and lets it go. I panic. That's parenting 101. You must NEVER let the balloon go outdoors! Geez...this is going to suck.

I look at Beaux and ask why he let it go. He says, with a certain confidence, "I gave it to Nana. She would wike it."

And that was it. The balloon went to Nana. Done.

What an awesome little boy...

Oktoberfest

Some things are just not fun with kids. Oktoberfest is definitely one of those events...

But, in typical Beaux-fashion, he found a way to bring light to the evening.

There was an authentic German band playing the original German music. Perfect dancing music for a 4-year-old. But this darling little boy in a skeleton costume decided to join in and dance with Beaux. Oh no. That wasn't flying. Beaux took one look at the kid and said, "You're not scawy. My brodder isn't scawed of you eider." The kid just looked at him in udder bewilderment as he wasn't really even old enough to understand that he was suppost to look scary.

I took Beaux aside and told him that the little boy just wanted to play with him and that he needed to be nice to him.

Beaux: "But Momma. I don't wike him."

Me: "Why not?!"

Beaux: "Because he's a boy. I wike girwls. Boys like girwls and girwls wike boys. That's how it wowks. I wearned that in school."


Thank God for that Catholic education...

Wets Fwy!

Spruce woke up Wednesday morning with the idea that we were getting on an airplane. He has never been on an airplane, so I'm not really sure where he got the idea, but he was pretty excited about it.

Spruce: "We go on airpwane?! We go see daddy?!"

Me: "Yes, sweetie. We're going to see daddy, but we're going to drive not fly."

Spruce: "But MOMMA, I want to fwy!!!!"

After several minutes of groggily trying to explain it to him, I finally just went with the old standby, "Sweetie, it's expensive to fly and we don't have the money."

It worked. I was shocked, but it did!

So we get to NC and Spruce finds a penny in the parking lot. He grabs it, hands it to Steve and says, "Dat's for de airpwane." and walks off...

Steve just stood there, perplexed.

Me: "Better save that. We're flying next time."

Beaux Davis - Home Inspector

Man, he's good. We're looking throough all these homes trying to find 'just the right one'. Spruce and I are distracted by all the shiny things, but Beaux is turning the house inside out.

"Wook, momma! Dere is a tain on the cawpet in hewe!"

"Momma! The toiwet wowks!"

"Momma! Dere is a BIG skwatch in the fwoor and I DIDN'T DO IT!!!"

The entire time the agent is following along behind him trying to explain the 'little fixes' that he's uncovering and I'm doing my best to not laugh.

The kid was even under the house inspecting the plumbing!


At least I don't have to worry about hiring an inspector...