Because I Allow Them To Dress Themselves,...

Jackson went to school today wearing a solid forest green teeshirt and black, orange, and yellow, plaid knee length surfer like shorts.

It was close enough. Could have been a better match, but I wasn't going to battle him over colors.

Sullivan came downstairs proud- "Look Mommy, I'm wearing two shirts in case I get cold or hot: He had a white shirt on and underneath, a yellow shirt. He had put on black soccer like shorts with a yellow signature from the brand.

So, yeah, he matched perfectly.

AFTER SCHOOL:
We're pulling into the vet to pick up a prescription for our Marina, and Sullivan suddenly says, "MOM! I didn't put on underwear when I got dressed today.

OMG! He's wearing those light and loose fitting open to see soccer like shorts.
He was in a great mood all morning long, after getting dressed!
How did he not, feel, the difference?
OMG! What if the reason he was in such a great mood was because he enjoyed the sensation of going commando?!

Before I cause the intercranial pressure to increase in my brain, and meanwhile overheat it so much that even 100 yawns needed to cool it down, will not help the situation, let me finish the no undies story.

So we're in the car, he realizes he put on two shirts and no underwear, (at least I know what threw him off his pattern: shirt, shirt, shorts socks, instead of shirt, undies, shorts, socks. He had the steps, he just double dipped on step one), expresses his discovery, and Jackson starts laughing at him.

He didn't like that. He became Sullen. Hearing silence, I took the opportunity to speak and say, "it's very important for you to put on your underwear, especially when you wear shorts like you have because anyone can see your "France's."

Sully says, "Not my France's, Mom, My balls, the girls could see my balls and that's not funny."

So much for me trying the old, "I SEE LONDON I SEE FRANCE..."

He's only in kindergarten.
He needs help with his fine motor skills and reading skill sets, and he will be working with the school therapists starting next week. Yet I'm not worried, because he knows balls. So what if he can't hold a pencil, trace the letter Ll, or Tt, and he needs some extra help reading and such. The kid knows his balls and he knows it's not a laughing matter for girls or other such people to get a view.

I'm not worried at all.
Which is why, I allow them to dress all by themselves.

All In One Day, People

A few weeks ago, I think days before a birthday gathering for a relative on March 29th, or was it just days afterwards, the time frame is so very foggy. BUT! The events are not:



A sleepless night for some reason. I didn't sleep well, but for no reason. Then I heard Ben wake up and cry out. But it was brief. So there I am hearing Ben wake in the night but then stopping the quiet cry out (have I written about this yet? I feel as I have?? still too tired to look back). Morning comes, and I am tired, but just because I didn't sleep well, then Bigdogg leaves for work, that morning a tad earlier than usual. No problem it just means more.quiet.time-more quiet time,-or as Fiwa says, my "awake time!" So, I rise and bid my BDD with a heartful "breath- -stinks-I'm-sorry-so-I'll hold-my-breath-when-I-kiss-you-goodbye" type kiss with BDD and then there I am enjoying my coffee with my crusty morning self, and then the kids wake up-
Sigh.

The kids wake up. I walk into Ben's room, and there is puke, all over the crib. At least it wasn't poop this time, right? But, dried crustier vomit in sheets, crib, lovie cuddles in his crib, his 'blanks,' hair, pj's, everywhere. So, that's why he woke in the night!!
Some might say, "well next time you hear them cry out in the night, you'll go and check on them.." But, I don't or won't do that, because with children, there's always a second sentence, and third. You really truly need to go with your own instinct, and it is based on the child's patterns, and personality. I, going forward in the future, will NOT get up and check on him because if he stops crying in less then 5minutes, there isn't a problem. Based on the tone of the cry, as well. He had cried out in the night, but no other noise. He is a light sleeper, and if I went into check on him, or even tipsy-whoops, tippy toed down the hallway to the doorway of his room, he would stir and rise. So, knowing my baby son, well, almost 2 the 17th of July, he would wake up. So, I still won't go and check on him..as long as the cry is short and tune consistent. They're like Dolphins, you just gotta listen to their tones. Stop, Listen, Observe, Watching... (SECRETS OF BABY WHISPERER!!)



Some might give me grief about that, or the fact that I didn't have one ass of a paragraph right there, or that the word ass is taken out of context, but the fact of the matter is, I am going to go with what I think is right. The odds of him crying out briefly, and "tossing his pukeisms" again, versus the odds of me freakishly jumping out of my bed, BDD jumping up, WHAWWHEUH? and then waking Ben up because he heard me while crying out? I'm not budging out of my bed.
Maybe it's just a third child thing. Plus I know I started a sentence with -a- i.am.tired.
I'm not moving, back to that, as, I know my odds...

This was a few weeks before his fever. Which now leads me to believe or wonder, if it was a sign..The mess in his crib gave new meaning to "Crusty-Beef."



Moving on, is my dear Sullivan.
Sulli-ballie. He ALWAYS jacks with me at dinner. Sullivan is very expressive, and likes to kvetch a lot, have I mentioned that I already LOVE his future wife. He likes to challenge, and I am not a consistent parent, because I'm a frantic Crustfest, and sometimes I try the force on them, or the "FORCEBEWITHYOU" dinner, which means they MUST eat every last bite. Sometimes, I give him the option of removing himself from the table, placing his plate and cup in the sink, but no snacks later, not wanting to promote overeating habits which apparently lead to obesity according to today's critics of 'right now." The "yesterdays critics and tomorrows critics, and the "i just wanna be different" critics, will all say something different. Sorta like that rectal issue with my sons Pediatrician. ACCURATE CRAP MY ASS! But some will say likewise, and moving on, regardless of the publicity, I myself am not consistent. It's not their fault, I don't have to read, and ingest their info, plus I was tired as this dinner drama was also the same day as Bennies Vomitpooluzza day, and I was just tired. I didn't feel like being messed with.

I took the situation with my three year old,personal-my mistake-not his- that he wouldn't eat his chicken breaded nuggets oven baked, fried veggie oil Fast Food Style Orieda Fries, cinnamon applesauce, and milk with a dash of strawberry sauce. He pulled the old "song and dance" that his tummy hurt, and then he throws his head back and makes this glass breaking low tone-shrill like a frog mourning his blown off horny date, and it hurts your ears not because of the sound, but because you hear it all the time...change your tune my man..same tune at dinner, with the tummy aches.



It was fries people, and nuggets. But no, he kvetched.



As I put my foot down and put the spoon of applesauce mixed with the kids blue bag of something baked chicken nuggets I bought at Target, he complained, and swallowed and was purely annoyed.



"But my Tummy hurts, mommy!"

"Tough, swallow it, Sullivan."
"This is enough, just eat it."

See I took this situation personally, because of outside forces, but then the force again joined together. It wasn't his fault I was tired, and it wasn't his fault that he's a growing boy with Brain stimulation and constant wiring maintenance within his entire body, so, I took his reaction with the nuggets and made it about me. I took it personally.

My fault, yes, I know. However, nuggets, people.
Then, he as he is just like his mom, has to attempt to prove his point, and then he turns to me as my right shoulder is turned to him due to the fact that I am feeding Ben his fries.

Then, He turns towards me and spews pink mixture of lava, yeah we'll go with that.

I am soaked, his food a floating pink breaded mixture with it glistening droplets of pink GEM I'M GONNA LIVE FOREVER" globs of sprawling toddlomit, all over the floor. I on the other hand am thinking that there is no time to make the trek to the bathroom, through carpets and stairs, a hallway to his bathroom. Nope, there was no time to risk more of that pink panthers meat grease chicken nugget meal all over, so just puke in the sink, the vomit was projectile.



Somehow in the mix of this, he's managing to cry, somehow, like he suddenly figured out how to clone himself, and he had two heads, his noises and then my calm. and that's the truth, I was already covered on my shirt and jeans, so I just scooped him up and gracefully glided across the wet hardwood kitchen floor to the kitchen sink. I was calm while he hooted and whooped, until I slid in the "floor juice" I yelped as it hurt my ankle. But, in the meantime, because of Sullivan's cries and vomit,Ben to begin to cry, and Jackson seeing the disgusting mess started crying that the smell was just awful: "THE SMELL, THE SMELL!"

Sincerely guys, there were three boys crying, vomit, and then there was I.

So, not thinking straight I pulled Ben out to the kitchen, and attempted to block off the areas, which was impossible. Not wanting to trail this nasty mixture, I went back to the kitchen and while Sullivan stood there in awe, on the kitchen floor, in tears, I removed Sullivan's clothes with my soaked clothes, right smack down on the floor of the already soaked VOMIT IS EVERYWHERE kitchen. To this day I don't know how the hell he managed to make such a piece of art work. It was everywhere, people.



So, after I tried barricading the areas, and then up to the next level to have the bath drawn, Ben having figured out that vomit is a fun creation like finger painting,begins to run around the house. So, in the bath he goes, as I was putting Sullivan in, then after chasing Ben around the house to catch him, whoops, and when I had to run and get Ben, PRIOR to putting him in the bath, I had to pull Sullivan back out, because you just don't risk that area. Leaving them in the bath alone.

Finally, they're both in the bath. I sit down on the toilet to just breathe for a few moments, and then I start laughing----I realized that I'd just spent the past at a minimum of 5minutes running around the house in my bra and undies.
EVERY WINDOW WAS OPEN. IT WOULD have been a serious fishbowl people.
What a fantastic visual. I cracked up.

All In One Day, People



Welcome TO Crustybeef!
All In One Day, People..



I made BDD Matzoh Brei (its like unleven pancake with eggs. Or French toast, but I make ours crunchy and with just salt and water. You can make it with sour cream, and fresh fruit, syrup,...)for breakfast this morning, he's still not feeling good, aches, but, he loved the treat. He says-I say claims- that it was just as good as his moms. That means a lot to me!