I have tried more times than I can count to sit down and write a post. Every time. EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. I am interrupted by a baby that wants to be nursed, a toddler that wants to be fed, or a preschooler that wants a hug. And furthermore… I cannot seem find the time to edit my posts to (semi) perfection. So I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors.
Welcome to life with 3 kids 4 and under.
I had so many different stories to tell you, and now I can barely remember any of them. I do not know what happened to my brain. It is like the third baby took what was left of my brain and completely absorbed it.
The other day my mom stopped by for a visit, and as I was talking to her, my kid started to be fussy. I grabbed him, threw him in my lap, whipped out the boob to breastfeed, and started to whack him in the face with it while I waited for him to latch. You know.. the usual.
It wasn’t until my Mom loudly said my name that I realized what I was doing:
I was trying to breastfeed my 2 1/2 year old… not my infant.
My bad dude. My bad.
And as I ponder why I have no brain left… I look back on the day I just had.
(It takes me a moment. I look at my phone to find out what the day is… what the date is… but I know the month sooo… win.)
Hudsy got a lego stuck in his mouth. Correction: Hudsy got a DUPLO lego stuck in his mouth. Duplo Legos are mid-sized legos. They are not huge, but they are not small either. Somehow my beautiful child got one stuck sideways in his mouth and was starting to have a little panic about getting it out.
Like a smart boy he came over to Mommy for help.
The kid could not close his mouth. There he stood, in his 4 foot glory, with a mouth wide open and a blue lego peeking out from behind those pearly whites, and that lego was not budging from behind those teeth. Poor kid would partly cry, partly laugh, and partly gag the whole time he stood in front of me.
I tried my best not to fully laugh.
That was until I started to panic because I could not get it out. How he got it wedged in like that … I have no idea. Every time I tried to wiggle it out his gag reflex kicked in. Great.
Meanwhile I hear a cry from down the hall:
“MOM I POOPED! PEEESE WIPE ME! MOM I POOOPED! I POOPED! WIPE ME NOW!”
I am so proud of you oldest son for using the toilet, but I am trying to save your brother from lock jaw.
“POOOOOOOP. MOM POOOOOP.”
Oh… and did I mention I was laying down trying to breastfeed during this entire episode?
Every time I attempted to be ‘Jaws For Life’ for my two year old … my nursing infant clamped down and reminded of my body’s limitations on how far it can stretch.
This is my life.
Sidenote: I did finally get that lego out. By the end we were both laugh crying over this debacle. Glad I have a son who also laugh cries at inappropriate times. But I digress.
During my absence from writing, I also attempted to potty train my 2 year old. He was a wiz (pun intended) at peeing. Like my oldest, he wanted to pee everywhere.
Toilet. Front yard. Back yard. Park bushes. Dry dirt. Trees. Brother.
They are all the same. Indecent exposure does not apply when you are two.
Free the P man.
But why would one use the toilet when it comes to #2?
The struggle is real people. My children fear releasing the deuce on the porcelain throne.
I tried to get him to do it. I bribed. But no.
Instead homeboy decided that he was an outdoor kind of man, au natural.
I mean poop is basically nature’s play dough right?
Do I need to even say what happened?
Cue tired Momma finishing a nursing session, walking outside to check on brothers, and to her joy, a gift is presented to her.
A grubby little man hands to her… a pinecone. Not just any pine cone.. a very special, decorated pine cone. A pinecone with half of said toddler’s poop squished into it. I say half because I later found the rest. It had rocks and sticks stuck in it.
Thanks little man. I will just save this trinket to hang on this year’s Christmas tree. I think that will be your special ornament. Maybe Mommy could even stick a date on it.
So I think I have updated you to the best of my ability.
I mean in between the crazy there has been so many hugs and kisses. So many sweet brother moments. So much wrestling.
This transition to three has been-
A little gross,
I am going to do my best to keep you updated with our journey, but sometimes you may just get a ramble. Because that is all that is left in my brain. And I guess for now, that just has to be alright.
Thanks for listening friend.