Hellobee

Gooooooooooooooooood morning! Thought I’d offer a bit of comedy for your day, since that’s what life seems to be like these days – a walking, breathing comedy of errors. And craziness. And noise. So with no further ado, I invite you to grab a bowl of cereal, sit back and enjoy the show as I share with you the not-so-brief synopsis of an average day with Colin and Asher at Casa Confetti.

**Disclaimer: Guys, I love my boys. Truly. They are the best part of my life. My writing style tends to have a flare for the dramatic, particularly when droning on about our day to day grind. Promise me that you know that my whining is all in good fun **

4:55 a.m.: The first peeping sounds squawk from the nursery. I glance at my clock, hide my head under my pillow and pray that Asher goes back to sleep.

5:15 a.m.: After a period of silence, the noise resumes. Asher has begun his daily chat session. What he is telling the ceiling and his loveys, I’ll never know. The one thing I do know is that it’s very important to him, because it’s LOUD. This boy has a set of vocal chords and knows how to use them. We wait for the chatter to turn to angry whining before one of us gets out of bed to get him (because, 5:15 a.m.).

5:30 a.m.: I stumble out of bed, mix up a 4 oz. bottle, grab Asher’s first dose of meds and plod into his bedroom. Mr. C and I take turns dealing with these early wake-ups, but even the days off don’t soften the blow of waking in the 5’s. It doesn’t help that the room reeks of dirty diaper. We change that stinker then snuggle up for a bottle and meds. Then we both head downstairs to the playroom where I lay on the floor while Asher rips every toy off of the shelves, pushes the push toys around, throws things and generally acts as the chief demolition officer of our home. This week has been a turning point, because he learned to climb, so I have to keep one eye open to be sure he doesn’t climb onto his brother’s new trampoline (since climbing up is much easier than coming down).

6:05 a.m.: I hear a noise. Colin’s room is directly above us, and I can hear him struggling with his diaper pail. His new habit is removing his night diaper on his own and throwing it out. Helpful, yes, but on more than one occasion, he has chosen to do this before he falls asleep at night. I thank my lucky stars that his pee was contained overnight. C plays in bed until his green light goes on at 6:45 a.m. I daydream about a day when Asher will wait patiently until 6:45 as well.

6:30 a.m.: I grab Colin’s milk, head upstairs and wake Mr. Confetti with slobbery drool kisses (from the baby, not me). Asher is rarely awake when Mr. C gets home from work, so they get their quality time together in the mornings. We pile in bed and snuggle (aka try to keep Asher from nosediving off the bed as he climbs all over us) until I head into Colin’s room and Mr. C takes Asher downstairs to let the dog out and get him started with breakfast.

6:45 a.m.: Colin and I read three books (always three, just ask him), get dressed, brush teeth and head downstairs. As we make our way down, Mr. C makes his way up to shower and then head off to work.

7:15 a.m.: Since it’s a non-school day for C, rather than rushing to eat breakfast, we ease into the morning with playtime first. This is mostly because Asher is going through a phase that involves being way too distracted to drink his pre-nap bottle unless he’s alone with me in a dark room. So we play play play until just before 8 when I get Colin his breakfast and set him up with an episode of PJ Masks while I go upstairs to give Asher a bottle, change his clothes (I’ve given up on bibs) and put him down for nap. (Normal wake time for Asher is 2 hours from wake to nap, but I won’t let nap 1 start before 8 on these early wake days…which lately have been all the days…).

8:15 a.m.: Asher yabbers in his crib and drifts off to sleep, and I pop downstairs to see how many minutes are left in Colin’s episode of PJ Masks before throwing on a shower cap and hopping in the shower for less than two minutes to wash my body as fast as humanly possible. Because I stink. I brush my teeth, throw on some clothes and greet C before the end of the credits.

8:30 a.m.: I love this quality time one-on-one with my big guy. This is our one hour of the day to bust out all the choking hazards. Beads, pom-poms, cooking projects, messy art projects that require my undivided attention and other non-baby-friendly fun. More often than not, we’re just playing with whatever C is currently obsessed with: Paw Patrol toys, Miles from Tomorrowland figurines, superheroes.

9:40 a.m.: Asher is up. Thankfully without hysterics. We get our things together and are out the door by 10. Because anyone with a 3 year old can tell you that being trapped in the house with that 3 year old for more than a couple hours in a row will be questioned/whined/pestered to death.

10:20 a.m.: Today, our adventure is a visit to our local children’s museum. We’re members and both of my boys just can’t get enough of the place. We had plans to meet a friend and her kids, but her children aren’t roosters like my children so her little guy is still napping. I hope they’ll make it to join before we have to leave. Friggin nap slaves, us mamas. They arrive around 11 a.m., and we have fifteen glorious minutes together before our children adamantly insist on venturing to different exhibits on opposite ends of the room. I keep an eye on the clock because I know that Asher will melt into a hungry puddle by noon, so I hustle them out the door at 11:40, swiftly racing past the gift shop as fast as I can so we can skip the regularly scheduled melt down over the neeeeeeeeds of my toddler.

12:03 p.m.: Asher is losing his ever loving mind in the backseat of my car as we pull into our driveway for lunch. Colin is angry because Asher is angry. I am taking deep breathes, trying to channel some kind of zen to keep myself from screaming at both of them and counting the minutes until nap time in my head.

12:08 p.m.: Boys in chairs, eating. Hallelujah, everyone is calm.

12:09 p.m.: Colin is out of his chair. I ask him nicely to put his tushie in the chair. He sits.

12:11 p.m.: He is up again. I feel the steam seeping out of my ears. WTF, child?! Another slightly less nice request, coupled with threats of no TV later. Butt back in chair.

12:20 p.m.: Asher is wearing his lunch. I’ve given up on bibs, because when he does wear one, the bib is clean and everything around it is a mess. This boy just makes incredibly impressive messes. I strip him down to his diaper, give him a baby wipe bath and let him crawl all over the room while the dog licks the remains of his lunch from his high chair, Colin slowly nibbles the foods he will willingly eat today and I finish wolfing down my own food.

12:30 p.m.: I start one episode of Paw Patrol for Colin (are you noticing a theme? Baby care time = TV time at the Confetti house). Asher and I head upstairs for another new outfit, another round of bottle and meds, and nap #2 around 12:45. He helps me turn the pages as we read a couple board books before nap, and I marvel at how fast he is growing up.

12:55 p.m.: Paw Patrol is over, and Colin is done eating. I tell him it’s time for milk and books (aka nap time), and he goes absolutely ballistic because that means he can’t watch One. More. Episode. I do my best to diffuse the tantrum with silliness. Thankfully this time it works. We head upstairs, and I ask Colin a few times if he needs to go potty before nap. He says no. We put on his nap time diaper, and sit down to read our three books (I pick the shortest ones I can find because I can tell he is tired). We finish book #3, and he proudly exclaims, “I have to go potty!” I have no words. I am just so irritated. We head to the bathroom where C stalls with all his might, peeing and then saying he wants to sit for a little bit, just in case. Parenting is hard.

1:15 p.m.: We’re finally back in his room, the potty business behind us, and I sing our special song and turn out the light, holding my breath and hoping he actually falls asleep.

1:20 p.m.: I take the dog outside, deal with yet another round of poop that is not mine, and we play a little fetch in the backyard. I come in, check the monitor, happy to see that Asher is still asleep but Colin is still thrashing around in his bed. I start a load of laundry, throw the dishes in the sink and turn on my computer to answer some work emails and finish my expense report (I am juggling two part-time jobs these days, and have a sitter two half days a week. Between that, naps, nights and weekends, I manage to somehow get quite a lot done.). The next hour flies by, and I am amazed at how efficient a person unencumbered by children can be until…

2:20 p.m.: Asher wakes up screaming like a banshee. Whomp whomp. I close my computer, glance at the monitor to see that Colin never did fall asleep, and make my way upstairs to calm the angry baby.

2:25 p.m.: …who pooped. Yay. A new diaper later, we make our way back down to the basement, where we play and read some books, and I completely forget to switch the laundry. We bring the party upstairs so Asher can use various pieces of furniture as push toys while I wash the dishes, wipe down the high chair and attempt to deal with the general sticky-ness that just never really goes away.

3:10 p.m.: Colin’s mandatory two hours of quiet time is over, so Asher and I go up to get him. I have to lift the diaper pail up onto the dresser, switch the night light for an outlet plug and move the ottoman to block Asher from toppling the lamp. Then, while he rips every book off Colin’s bookshelves, Colin and I sit on the floor nearby and read a few (you guessed, three) books.  Every few pages, we pause so I can chime in with a, “No, Asher Masher!” as the baby continues to amaze me with new havoc he can create. Somehow Colin decides that he and Asher are going to turn his closet into a secret fort, and I catch a momentary glimpse of what life might be like when they actually play well together. It lasts about 90 seconds before Asher pulls Colin’s hair and Colin starts yelling, but whatever. A girl can dream.

4:00 p.m.: We have books that are due at the library, and since Colin didn’t nap, I figure the afternoon might pass easier if we leave the house, so it’s off to the library we go. We head up to the kids’ section; Colin plays better independently when we aren’t home, and I marvel as he dumps out a giant bin of alphabet monkey toys and starts arranging them by color and putting them in shapes. Asher spends his library time trying to steal toys from other kids, flirting with the other moms and nannies, and (you guessed it) ripping books off shelves. We find a handful of superhero books that we’ve already borrowed a dozen times, I throw some other interesting-looking titles in my bag, and we head home for dinner.

5:15 p.m.: Colin brings a few toys upstairs to the kitchen table and plays while I keep Asher occupied in his high chair with some Cheerios while I warm up dinner (I still subscribe to my method of cooking on Sunday for the week, so dinner prep is FAST). Asher crushes dinner – this kid can eat more than me sometimes – and has given himself a marinara hairdo. Looks like he will need a bath tonight. Colin isn’t hungry yet, so he plays while Asher eats and I get him wiped down enough to be allowed to touch anything. At this point, Asher is stripped down to a diaper (again) and Colin insists on stripping down to his underwear for dinner. This has become a nightly occurrence, much to my dismay.

5:50 p.m.: Asher is ready for a bath, so I warm up Colin’s dinner and set up an episode of Team Umizoomi. Colin eats while I wash Asher as fast as I possibly can while he tries repeatedly to stand in the bathtub. Even as he shows signs of being tired, the drive to be in constant motion never stops. Once he has shifted from standing to splashing, I quickly FaceTime my parents so they can watch him splash around for a couple minutes. It’s pretty darn cute. When the splashing shifts back to standing, our call ends abruptly, I wrap Asher in a towel, and we put on PJs and a night diaper and then head downstairs. Tonight, because I know I’ll be blogging about the day, I remember to brush his teeth too! Parenting win…poor second child.

6:10 p.m.: I let Asher crawl around like a madman to get any last vestiges of energy out, and then by 6:20, he’s starting to zone out, so I turn on one final show for Colin and head up with Asher to put him to bed. He wildly grabs at my hair while lazily drinking his bottle, and then flips the pages as we read a couple board books. By 6:30, the white noise is on, the light is out, and I silently cheer to myself, “one down, one more to go.” Then I chastise myself, because I do love my little guys so much, but oy, by 6:30 p.m., I am just over the day and ready for some quiet and personal space.

6:45 p.m.: Colin’s show is wrapping up as Mr. Confetti walks through the front door. Of course, C is so glad that dad made it home for bedtime. They head down to the basement to do all the manly things they do like tackle each other and play “cat whiskers” (aka soccer) while I face the giant mountain of dishes we have mucked up over the course of the day, along with the bottles, and the general disaster-zone that is our first floor. Despite the fact that we have been hanging out all day, Colin comes upstairs twice to see if I can come play cat whiskers too. Once the last dish is washed and the bottles are steamed, I join them downstairs and ever so gently nudge C about the impending bed time. “Do you want to go up now, or in 5 minutes?” Such is the question of my existence these days. Always 5 minutes.

7:15 p.m.: The boys head upstairs, milk in hand, to go to the bathroom, brush teeth and put on PJs (C only bathes every other day). They start Colin’s three books, and I join for the end when we do our “I love you” rhymes and song. We promise that we’ll leave the hallway light on, and that we’ll chase away any bad guys and dark kings. Colin tells us to have a good sleep and he’ll see us in the morning. Man, I just love this kid.

7:40 p.m.: On nights that Mr. Confetti is home for bedtime, I wait to eat with him, and we sit and recount our days – the highs and lows of his day at work, and the great, good, bad and ugly of my day with the boys. By 8:15 p.m., we’re usually on the couch, either watching TV or in “computer lab” mode, with both of us working on various work projects. I almost always am puttering with something, between my nonprofit contract job and my new photography business.

By 10 p.m., we’re dividing and conquering yet again. Mr. C takes the pup out one last time while I fill the water and powder for tomorrow’s bottles and pre-measure Asher’s medication. As we get ready to walk upstairs, I realize that there is still laundry in the washer from naptime. Into the dryer it goes, then it’s off to bed to get some sleep before starting our circus over once again.  I’ll admit that while my days are busy as can be, and often drive me slightly bonkers, I can’t imagine it any other way.