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Today’s game of choice was gymnastics.  For Patrick?  Easy, peasy.  For me?  Not so much.

After throwing his little body feet over head in a rapid succession of somersaults, Patrick yelled out between giggles, “Mama’s turn!”  We do this often, this turn taking business.  Most times, it’s a good thing.  We’re sharing crackers, catching a ball, reading books.  But somersaults?  That’s a different story. Now, before you get on my case, ask yourself, “When was the last time YOU did a somersault?”  Huh. Thought so.

However, with a two-year-old egging you on, you only have a few seconds to react.  Mama’s turn?  Well, I used to be quite good at them.  So what if it was 25 years ago, before childbirth, years of standing in high heels, and that one unfortunate trip down the stairs at Fanny Ann’s?

I went for it anyway.  And I must say, I’m STILL quite good at it.  Patrick yelled, “Yay Mama!” so I’m guessing it was a definite TEN.  I emerged from the rolling over just a tad bit dizzy, but I did make one more attempt before retiring my gymnast body for the day.

And, yes, it was fun pretending to be two all over again.

Until tomorrow at least.  Do we have any Tylenol?

We just got the carpets cleaned last week.  They feel so clean!  And they look lovely too.  It’s a lot of work, getting the carpets cleaned.  Not only do you have to move all of the stuff out of the rooms that are to be cleaned, but you have to move it back too!

This time, we decided to do some rearranging when we returned the furniture back to it’s original surroundings.  And….my dear husband somehow got bitten by  the organizing bug (I am NOT complaining!) and has move around the living room furniture, cleaned the top of his dresser (We should see the pigs start to fly momentarily) and today, I actually saw him wiping up something that had dripped on the kitchen floor! Will this behavior last?  One can hope.  However, the reality is that it will probably fizzle out in a couple of weeks.  Until then, I will savor every last drop!

Here’s a funny….he told me that he wanted to move the ottoman away from the front door.  It was placed right under the window next to the door when Patrick got the Little Tikes car for Christmas.  I said that I liked it there – I could dump my stuff there when I walked in.  He told me, “That’s exactly why I want to move it.”  I couldn’t stop laughing.  He, who leaves jackets on every couch, chair and floor.  He, who can’t seem to manage to put away the bottle opener/screwdriver/scissors/etc. after he’s done using them.  He, who has five inches of junk layered on top of his dresser in addition to the three inches on his side of the sink counter.  HE is annoyed with ME dropping off the diaper bag on the ottoman?

Men are hilarious.

I laughed the entire evening….

We’ve been in the car a lot the past few weeks. Went to my parents’ house in Salinas, to Berkeley to go to the Lawrence Hall of Science, and most recently, Eureka.  Eureka was the longest drive, and with a two-year-old, you just never know how it will go.

But Patrick did great in the car.  Well, his mom packs for a natural disaster, so he had no choice.  Old toys, new toys, books, snacks – check!  Silly songs to sing, peek-a-boo behind the seat – check!

His favorite new game? Purple Plastic Sand Bucket. Here’s how you play:

1.  Place sand bucket on head.

2.  Pretend to sneeze. “Ahhhhhh Choooo!”

3.  Let bucket fall off of head.

4.  Catch bucket with feet.  (Don’t worry if it falls, your mom will fetch it for you.  She knows seatbelt yoga!)

5.  Laugh hysterically.

Repeat game over and over until mom is sufficiently bored with game.  Then continue for another hour.

Game variation:  Place bucket on feet and kick it off yelling, “Whoooooooooo!”  Warning: More fetching from mom needed.

Lots of laughs!

Two-year olds are clumsy.  At least mine is as of late.

In one day, he….

1.  Fell off the skateboard and bit his lip. Tears AND blood!

2.  Hit his head on the refrigerator door.  Just tears…

3.  Fell down a flight of stairs (well, maybe not a flight…we only have two steps, but it sounds so much more dramatic to say a “flight of stairs”.  How many stairs equal a “flight” anyway?  Tears and a bruised behind…

4.  Squashed himself in the slats of his bed.  (This was an “on purpose” avoidance of a nap.)

5.  Fell off of his bed.  And took me down with him – I have a bruised elbow.  Him?  Not a scratch!

I’m still recovering.  His recovery time?   2.2 seconds, then he’s off to the next bump or bruise!  The tears don’t last long…there is too much playing to do!

All I wanted was to buy a few things at Target, I swear.  I had a VERY short list!

• Those Cadbury eggs with the goo inside for my husband
• Egg dye to color eggs
• A couple of Easter treats for Patrick’s basket
• A small gift for my secret pal (we have secret pals at work that we leave little surprises for on occasion.  Mine gave me a Starbuck’s card and some coffee slippers last week – so fun!

I must be the most horrible mother in the world. Not only did I refuse to buy all of the candy, trinkets and toys that graced the “seasonal” aisles of the store, I would not let my child price-check the Post-it notes fifteen times in a row. You’d think once would be sufficient, wouldn’t you?  And Patrick did each pack (there were three total) THREE times!  Yes, the dollar aisle got me again….

We had a one fleeting moment of excitement and cuteness when Patrick looked at all the fun stuff in the aisles set up for Easter.  Just long enough for me to take this picture…

WOW!!!

Then, when he discovered that he couldn’t have everything he wanted, he threw a fit.  And had a time out.  Right there in the store.

After he had calmed down, I made the attempt to get him to go with me to get the egg dye, and he threw himself on the ground yelling, “Cars! Cars!”  toward the rows and rows of candy treats. I did not see the cars, but there sure was a lot of stuff, so I’m sure HE saw them.

It was then that I decided that we would be going.  As we walked toward the check out, he calmed down when he realized that he could hold all three packs of Post-its in one hand.  Whatever floats your boat kid!

The calm before the storm some say?  One would have thought I was taking away his most prized possession when I FORCED him to give up the sacred Post-it notes to the cashier (a patient, understanding older gentleman) for ten seconds so that HE could scan them. Oh, the nerve!

And when we went to pay?  It’s become a tradition now for Patrick to pay for our items, provided that there is not a long line behind us.  He loves to give the money to the cashier and receive the change back.  Secretly, I think the cashiers like this too, for Patrick is such a charmer! So in a quick effort to calm him from the Post-it separation, I gave him the money to pay for our other items.  NO SUCH LUCK.  He didn’t want to give THAT up either, the little miser!

The best part?   As all of the other shoppers looked at us (ME!) with pity and thankfulness that it was me and not them, Patrick had two other cashiers comment on how “cute” he was on the way out!  Cute?  I’m not sure cute would be my choice of words to describe that moment in time!

Before Patrick was born, I swore that MY child would never throw a temper tantrum in a store or restaurant.  He would be well behaved and sweet.  Always.

And then he turned two.

So if any of you happened to be at Target today around noon, yes, that was indeed me with the crying child, and I do apologize.

My baby boy is growing up!  We are now Binky free!  And you know what?  It wasn’t that difficult.

I’ve heard of so many people who’ve had to lie, beg, borrow and steal to get their kids to give up their beloved pacifier. Some used a pacifier “fairy” (who I guess is related to the tooth fairy). Same basic rules apply – you leave your pacifiers out before you go to bed and she takes them and replaces them with gifts as you sleep. Some have gifted their pacifiers to younger cousins or friends who “need them because babies use pacifiers”. Others have bribed their children, “You can trade in your pacifier for a new toy!”

I did not want to do ANY of this.  Patrick began using the pacifier the first night we were home from the hospital.  I have foggy memories of the Binky beginnings.  It was something like, I don’t know, THREE IN THE MORNING and he was crying and nothing else was working.  But that tiny little pacifier, that little piece of silicone and plastic, well, PACIFIED our tiny little wonder.  And he’s been hooked ever since.  Over TWO YEARS of sucking bliss.  I was prepared for the fight of my life.  No such preparation needed.

Amazingly, it took only a few days for him to adjust to a “suck-free” lifestyle.  WOW!  Here’s what we did.

He’s only used his “B” when sleeping for a long time now. So, a few weeks ago, we quietly quit offering him his Binky before he went off into dreamland.  When he asked for it, we gave it to him, but he had to ask first.  On occasion, he would be so tired from the day that he didn’t even ask.  We were well on our way….

The following week, we started having him take his afternoon nap sans Binky.   Sure, he asked for it a few times, but generally he was too tuckered out to put up a fight.  He only argued, “B! B!” a few times, and I could usually distract him with a sippy cup full of water on those occasions.

After a few days of successful naps, we tried putting him to bed at night without the pacifier.  We still used the sippy cup of water, which suprisingly satisfied him.  And after two days, we were BINKY FREE and he rarely even needs the water!

It was that simple.  Who knew?

Now, if I could only get him to eat broccoli!

I was making the bed yesterday and Patrick was, well, doing Patrick things.  You know, like running back and forth across the room for no particular reason, jumping, doing somersaults, etc.

I was putting the case on the pillow (my BRAND NEW pillow…it is so soft and lovely…ahhhh) and I looked over at Patrick, yelled, “Pillow fight!” and bopped him on the head.  Well, that was the most hysterical thing he’d seen all day.  He laughed and laughed, and I continued this course of, “Pillow fight!” and bopping him on the head, his back, and his tummy for several minutes.

But alas, all good things must come to an end.  I had to finish making the bed.  Contrary to popular belief, Mary Poppins does not live here. So I gave Patrick one more giggle infused bop on the head and then continued with my work.

He, however, had other plans. He took the pillow off of the bed and started to hit himself with it.  My husband walked in and commented, “Is Patrick having a pillow fight with himself?”  I looked up and answered, “I do believe he is!” through my giggles. We watched as he continually pushed his face into the pillow, lifted it off and then bopped himself on the head.  Over and over again. At one point, he hit himself so hard that he fell over.

This, by far, was the most hysterical thing that WE had seen all day.

Have a pillow fight with someone today (or maybe yourself)!  Smiles, guaranteed!

Patrick was Grouchy today.  With a capital “G”.  Too much parade yesterday? Not enough sleep?  Who knows, but he was GROUCHY!

One would have thought I was torturing him trying to get him to eat a sandwich. We went to music class and he hardly participated.  Went to the park and he wanted to go home early.

An early nap time it was…

Except, a hour into it, he pooped.  And then…there were these wonderful people on the roof removing the gutters for replacement later in the week.  What great timing!  Ugh…..

Short nap + already grouchy kid = Oh no!!!!

Tonight should be fun.  I can only hope he’s not coming down with something.

Calgon take me away…..

Asked of me at work:  Are you Irish?

Me:  Nope.  The only thing Irish in my life is my son’s name!

Irish or not….

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

At the Old Sacramento parade

So I survived my two days alone…and I highly recommend it!

The best part?  Waking up, making coffee, and getting to GO BACK TO BED!  I finished a book that I’ve been reading for months, watched all of my DVRed shows, aimlessly surfed the internet, ate toast for dinner, and spent four hours running errands one day.

The worst part? Not hearing that little voice saying,”Hi,Mama!  Choo choo, Mama!  More show please!” I really did miss the little guy.  A lot.

But I still hope that the boys will take another trip someday!