Once again, I have embarked on my journey of being mother to another active toddler! I'm not sure what I have done to deserve such torment, but obviously I have many, many, many, lessons to learn.
B-Man began to walk in May and ever since then, I have not sat longer in one spot, for more than 5 minutes. With as much getting up and running after speedy toddler, you would think I would be rail thin... Not so much. I have gained the most weight when my boys were toddlers.
Oh, Homeboy tagged a total of 20 surfaces (leather recliner, included) with his first initial "C"....
Where's the chocolate?
Oh, silly B-Man! Where on earth did you find a poopy diaper? And since when have you used the highly, aromatic, yet deep, earth-toned, brown, hue of poo, as an artistic medium?
I need a swig of Dr. Pepper!
Oh dear teenage son, thank you, again, for not coming home on time! I know you are only 1 HOUR late.... I will try my hardest to not envision you bloody and maimed on the side of a road, or partaking of highly illegal activities!
Oh how I love French fries!
I live in Crazy Town. In fact, I am mayor of Crazy Town.
After tucking Homeboy in to bed, I entered my kitchen, only to find my baby running circles around the kitchen island, with a butcher knife in tow! Shear panic, and heart palpitations set in and I tried to nonchalantly approach my baby, carefully. If I happen to jump and leap after him, I ran the risk of being impaled or even worse, he could run away, thus beginning the life of a crazed, knife, wielding, criminal. So I went with the careful, quiet, approach. The outcome was favorable for my side and thank heavens, no injuries occurred!
B-Man is not happy that I took away the very sharp and dangerous butcher knife away. Some day he will thank me for saving his life... AGAIN!