And Then There Were Two

I'm walking a fine line, today. And I'm kind of whiny about it.

There's this huge part of me that wants to let Chamblee play by herself. Like, go upstairs, by yourself, in the playroom, yank everything out and let your imagination go completely insane, girl.

There's this other huge part of me that wants to get down on the floor with her and talk all funny and give all of her trains different voices and put tracks together for her and pretend we are conductors and sisters and we live in my little pony land all at the same time.

What do I do? When do I let her brain work and when do I play with her, because I love her? Right now, duh, her brain is doing the work. She has taken all of the pillows over to one couch and created her own train. Bailey, small little victim, is a passenger, of course. And she is the conductor. We brought James, Rosie and Diesel downstairs and she's hauling them to Misty Island.

I really want to play. But she hasn't asked me to, so here I sit. pouting. writing.

Hello? I'm right. here. Ask me for help! 

I guess I always want to play with her. These days will soon be over. I'll have more kids and less time to get down there and pretend to be British. Next, and worse, she'll want nothing to do with her uncool mom. She's already going potty all by herself. When I try to help she says, "Bathrooms are private, mom." gasp. But she's right. I can't very well expect to be making potty trips with her in high school. It was going to happen. But so soon?

I still have time with sweet Jacob. He loves for me to play with him. Always. He longs for it, I just know it. But then, there's that fine line.

Why does he look 5?

Little Jakey Boy, as Chamblee affectionately calls him, just turned 1.  I don't know what I would do without that little dinosaur around. I also don't know what I'm going to do once he starts growing up, like for real. Chamblee told him yesterday, "You just can't grow up, bud. Mommy would be so disappointed." And she's right. I guess since she broke the pact about growing up she's trying to pass it over to him. Setting him up for failure.

Ok y'all. I about went cray cray all up in toddlercize today. Ok. There are like 60 2-4 year olds running around going crazy. All of the kids pick up these little foam stick things they have laid out and run around with them. I mean, sure. They are laid out like an obstacle course for the kids to hop over. Ahem. 60 2-4 year olds. They obviously don't stay put. So, Cham had one. This little girl snatched it from her and ran across the room and put it back where it was in the beginning. 45 minutes ago. So Cham's pissed, I tell her to grab another one and move along... Then this little chick comes up to me and says, "Those do not move from their spots." and before I could even respond to the little twerp her mom says, "somenamethatdoesntevenmakesense, we follow the rules, and other kids don't have to if their parents don't enforce it." Or some completely bananas-you-wanted-me-to-hear-you-and-i-did-but-i-still-think-you're-dumb answer. And hello? Are you so busy looking for where these invisible rules are posted that you missed your kid snatch and steal from my little baby bunny? So I did what any respectable mother would do. I walked straight over to the mom and punched her in the face. I kid. I grabbed Cham another foam stick thing. And then she had two. I know, I know. I acted like a four year old. Who cares.

Alright. Enough venting. Jacob is banging his crib against the wall which, I guess, means he is all done napping. I'll go check that out.

Until Next Time,
The Guff