The Freaks Come Out At Night

I used to be a sound sleeper . . . used to be. That all ended once we had children. I thought it was bad enough that our kids wake us up several times each night for whatever dumb reason - nightmares, water requests, "I want daddy!", etc.

Well, I was wrong. Now, somehow we need to be able to "watch" the children when we're sleeping.

Last night, I woke up (as I do every night right now) to run to the bathroom, then I went downstairs for something to drink. When I came back upstairs and sat down in bed, I noticed 2 of Darwin's bedtime companions at the foot of the bed. I thought it was odd because I was certain they were not there when we went to bed. I spend pretty much all day holed up in my bed right now, so I would have noticed if they were sitting there before bedtime or if he brought them earlier.

I recalled an incident from earlier in the night. First thing in the morning, I am used to waking up to Darwin closing his bedroom door as he gets himself out of his crib and heads to our room. The sound of the door always wakes me up. Last night, I was asleep, and I recall hearing a door close, but I was so tired I wasn't sure if it was a dream or if it had really happened. I asked James to check, but I fell asleep before I made sure he followed up. When I woke up and found Darwin's things in our bed, I was afraid that he slipped out of his bed, brought us his babies, and ended up somewhere other than his bed.

When I told James what I was worried about, he went to check on him. Luckily, he was in bed, but I couldn't help but worry and wonder if he had, in fact, gotten out of bed in the middle of the night. If so, how do I keep the kid out of trouble while I'm sleeping?

Tonight, I was doing some work in bed, and I decided to go downstairs to get something to drink. We generally leave the hallway and stairwell lights off at night. I approached the top of the stairs with a dirty cup in my hand, and I reached for the handrail. [This minor detail made all the difference in what happened next]. I started to step on the first step and felt like I was setting my foot on a small, warm dog. I froze and yelled for James as I save myself from falling down the stairs with the handrail I luckily decided to use.

With the crisis averted, I realize that the "dog" on the stairs was actually Amelia. She wakes up multiple times each night, and tonight she decided to lay down on the 1st stair at the top of the stairs, dangerously out of view from her very pregnant mom in a dark hallway. (Note to self: Always check stairs for sleeping children before walking, especially when pregnant). As her dad takes her back to bed, I think 'I could have just killed Amelia, Baby Tiny, and me if I had not been holding the handrail'. I shake my head that I have actually just had that thought.

As they all lie in bed sleeping (for now), I wonder what our next waking incident is going to be. Hopefully, this is all just a phase because James and I might lose it if we have to put up with the nighttime crazies for too much longer.

Originally drafted in Fall of 2011 . . . finally published on post date

Bedtime Outburst

Truman is generally our best behaved kid when it comes to bedtime. Dinner ends, and he might play for a bit, but he is usually asking to "do all the things". That means that he wants to do everything to get ready for bed (brush teeth, read books, maybe the occasional video game), and he is generally willing to go to bed shortly afterward.

Tonight, James was taking Amelia to a basketball game, so it was just me and the boys. Shortly after dinner, Truman was already asking to "do all the things", so James offered to put him in bed before he left. He put him in bed, left, and I stayed with Jameson and Darwin downstairs.

About 30 minutes later, as I am preparing to take Jameson upstairs to bed, Truman pokes his face through the 2nd floor stair rails and yells, "bring me downstairs!". I am surprised to see that he's still awake, but I try to reassure him that I am on my way upstairs to bring Jameson to bed. He breaks down, falls into a fetal position, and starts crying. I pick him up, and I tell him that if he lays down, I will get him a drink.

As Jameson brushes his teeth, and I return with a drink for Truman, which seems to satisfy him for the moment. For a few brief minutes, everyone is at peace as we lay down to read a couple of books. Then, I declare it's bedtime.

Everyone is quiet as I lay down with Jameson for a few minutes. Truman begins grumbling that he doesn't want to go to sleep, but I am so tired I am fading in and out of sleep. A few minutes later, I wake up to more Truman grumbling, except he is escalating it now to yelling and threats, fairly out of character for him.

I ignore him at first, just listening to what he's saying. I wanted to be mad because it's late, and I still have to get Darwin to sleep. Then I really started listening to what he was saying, and I wanted to laugh.

In his angry stream of demands and threats, he orders that I "say something to [him], don't say something to [him]". I think that's his way of telling me not to talk to him. He demands the same about 20 times. When I don't respond, he begins to bang on the sides of the crib. (Yes, he's still in a crib due to our temporary living arrangements). I can tell that he likes the loudness of his foot banging on the wood panels. He bangs harder. Then he begins to throw out his threats, "I'm gonna break this bed!", and I can't help but giggle to myself.

"I'm gonna break this bed and then we don't have a bed!" I am still laughing on the inside, but I tell him to cut it out, and that it's time to go to sleep. He grumbles more threats under his breath, and I tell him I am going downstairs to get Darwin.

When I return with Darwin, Truman is still awake and continuing with his complaints and threats. I turn on the bedtime music, and this finally seems to settle him down. He is asleep before I can get Darwin to sleep, and I laugh as I remembered his angry little threats and how far we've come from the calm, quiet, agreeable Truman of days long passed.

What cakes?

It looks like we might actually be selling our house. We even have a closing scheduled at the end of the month, so at the risk of jinxing our potential sale, I bought our neighbors a gift. On my way home from work tonight, I stopped at a cake bakery, and I picked up a box of delicious cupcakes. We have one set of great neighbors. You know - the kind who mow our grass, snow blow our driveway, and cook for us after we have another baby. Anyway, they're great, and we will miss them. A box of cupcakes is just a small gesture.

Well, I couldn't go and buy cupcakes for our neighbors and not bring some home for our kids. I brought them cupcakes too, and I got them a few "cookie monsters". After dinner I handed out the cookies monsters, and Truman, as usual, devoured his. A short while later, after running about 30 or so races from the front door to the couch, Truman decides he wants to eat again. He says he wants more "cookie monter". "Sorry, Truman, but Mom just has cupcakes", I tell him. With his cute as always "Yup", he agrees, he wants "buttcakes". "Yup, buttcakes"!

Turdtastrophe

Yup, pretty much exactly what it sounds like. Good times - they went something like this

This weekend after feeding the twins lunch, Amelia tells me she's "poopy". I pull her out of the high chair and start to move her toward the floor, when I realize that she hasn't spilled juice or chocolate milk all over her pants. 'Great' I think to myself, and we head upstairs for a bath. I got her all cleaned up, and we headed downstairs thinking that was the last of the messes to clean up.

I set her down, and notice the kitchen and sunroom smell funny. I look at Truman and notice he has a toy and what appears to be poop smeared all over it. "James!" I say in disbelief, "There's poop all over the place!". James scoops up Truman and heads to the bath. I survey the damage.

In no less than 2 minutes, Truman managed to poop on the floor, smear it all over his toys, step in it, and leave about 40 poopy footprints all over our area rug. We had a showing scheduled for the house the following day, and I decided that the only way to take care of this mess quickly and decisively is to roll up the area rug and throw it out. That's exactly what we did, and even though we're down an area rug, I don't regret it one bit.

I know Truman didn't feel bad about this one. Somehow he managed to keep a clean diaper, and his pants were still on. I know he was thinking 'You guys think you're so smart with your backwards pj's. I'll show you.' He's like the poop Houdini.

Other Parents' Struggles

Sometimes as a parent it's reassuring to hear about other parents' struggles because you feel like at least there's other people out there who know the ups and downs of parenthood. Every parent struggles with different things, and we all have our work cut out for us. Every now and then, you hear about someone else's parenting woes, and it makes you glad that you're not in their shoes.

James told me his cousin had started a blog, and I went over there to check it out tonight. I read this story and thought it was hilarious. Sorry Tarah, I don't mean to make a mockery of your parenting struggles. I really do hope you find something that helps. In the interim, here's all I could think about while I was reading about your little sleepwalker.

My Kids Are Funny

We're never at a loss for a good laugh around here with all the crazy things our kids do. I should be doing work, but I wanted to get a few of these written down, so one day they can laugh at themselves too.

Jameson
My brother came over to visit last week with his daughter. He and JJ have a playfully antagonistic relationship, so I was surprised when after an evening of their usual shenanigans Jameson asked Betito (as JJ calls him) if he could give him a kiss before he left. Betito, of course said yes, and as he bends over for a kiss, Jameson kicked him in the shins. I was just as shocked as my brother, but we could not help but laugh.


Truman
I heard Amelia crying in the twins room tonight, so I went in to check on her and see if she needed her blanket or something. I went in, put her back on her pillow and covered her again with her blanket. When she settled and went back to sleep, I look over at Truman to make sure he is okay. I laugh as I catch sight of a belly-side down, bare-butt-against-the-crib-rails naked Truman asleep and, apparently, very comfortable. He has nicely scrunched up his pj's and diaper against the crib rails. What's funnier. . . this is the 2nd night in a row that we have to re-dress him in the middle of the night.

Amelia
What amazes me about Amelia is her ability to learn and repeat new words and phrases shortly after first being introduced to them. Not long after Darwin's birth, one of her new favorite phrases was 'chocolate milk', which really sounded more like "yacolat mook". She, in particular, seemed to take interest in what I was doing when I would nurse Darwin. I don't recall exactly how I tried explaining it to them, but I had to laugh when one day as I'm nursing Darwin, Amelia comes over to see what I'm doing and knowingly declares it "yacolat mook".

I can never wait to find out what they'll do or say next to make us laugh!

Jameson Makes a Discovery

I was walking upstairs to take a short video of the babies before bedtime, and Jameson interrupts me with a discovery.



FYI - "peepees" is slang in Spanish for, in this case, toe jam.

Two Spills In Two Days

Babies are asleep, so I've gone kind of blog crazy. Jameson has had a rough couple of days though, so I thought we might want to remember them.

Yesterday, my mom, Jameson, and I went to Sam's to get a few things. After we checked out, we stopped by their food area to get something to eat. At this particular Sam's they have the all-in-one table and bench combination where you're not really sure where the table ends and the bench begins. Anyway, they don't have backs. I think this was the first time Jameson sat in one of these. I picked him up, set him in the seat, and no sooner had I set him down and he was already leaning back and losing his balance.

I realized he was falling too late, but I managed to break his fall by grabbing his shirt. Nonetheless, he continued to fall head first toward the ground. I heard his head bonk against the concrete floor, and I picked him up right away. I was scared because it's a hard floor, and he was crying relatively hard. I took him to the bathroom to compose him, and he seemed okay within a couple of minutes. I could already feel the goose egg he was developing. He didn't show any signs of concussion or any other head trauma, so we headed home and I kept an eye on him. He seemed okay the rest of the night, and I was glad I was able to catch him at least enough to break his fall.

He still has his goose egg.

As if one spill was not enough, earlier today I was carrying up Truman after he had fallen asleep in his high chair. I told Jameson I would be right back. When I walked out of the twins' room, I realize that Jameson is at the top of the stairs waiting for me. I tell him to head back downstairs carefully. He turns abruptly, and loses his balance. He tumbles a couple of stairs. I don't panic at first because he seems to regain his balance. But as he tries to continue downstairs, he tumbles down another couple of stairs. Now, I start to panic.

I feel myself frozen, not sure what to do as I watch him tumbling down the stairs. He is falling slowly, and I don't know if I should try to catch him before he hits the ground. I am kind of afraid to stumble after or on top of him and make it worse. At this point, he is close to the bottom, and he has continued to stumble down slowly. Unfortunately, his tumbling accelerates on the last four stairs, and he lands with a thud, luckily not on his head, but on his side.

I race downstairs to pick him up and check for injuries. He seems okay and is more scared than injured. My heart is racing, and again, I find myself thanking God it wasn't more serious.

Two days, two falls, but apparently, no worse for the wear . . . somehow, somewhere, someone is watching over him when I cannot - or fail in doing so.

My Neighbor Is Crazy!

I had a flat tire about 2 weeks ago.  Both of my parents' cars had flat tires within a week of each other.  Hannah (James's sister who was here helping while James was out of town) had a flat tire just a couple of days ago.  My mom suspected my neighbor was responsible after both of their cars came up with flats.  I didn't think much of it until Hannah strangely got a flat that seemed to coincide with the days she was at the house.  Okay - now I'm fairly certain it's my neighbor, so that just confirms my original suspicion that he's crazy.

It all started several months ago.  My mom and aunt had been over visiting and helping with the kids.  They were preparing to leave, so they walked out the door to start loading their car.  I was upstairs with a twin (can't recall which one) feeding him/her.  Jameson was downstairs with James's mom while my family prepared to leave.  I heard my mom yell for James's mom as she opened the door, and the adrenaline shot through my body.  I figured something happened to Jameson, so I darted down the stairs (baby in hand) to see what had happened.  I see my mom on the ground kicking at a dog who is pulling at her pants trying to get through the front door.  I recognize the dog as my neighbor's fat, lazy bulldog.  I run up to it, kick it out the door, and grab it by the collar.  My neighbor comes running up just then and take his dog back in his house.

After I find out that Jameson, my mom, and everyone else is okay, I see my neighbor outside cleaning his car.  I ask him, "How did he get over here?".  He replies in an aggravated tone, "He was outside with me.  I was washing the car."  I take a moment to wonder what he was doing while his dog left his side, headed toward my house, and attacked my mom - and I still beat him to the scene.  He must have sensed that I was mocking him in my head because then he said, "Look, I don't wanna talk about.  It won't happen again."  I respond, "Okay, I just wanted to make sure because my two-year-old is out here."  I sense his aggravation escalating, and he says, "Your dog is always running over here, and you never do anything."  I think 'This is true, but we haven't had dogs for more than 6 months'.  I tell him he's right, but that is also one of the reasons we did not keep our dogs.  He does not like that I have shot a hole in his argument.  He gives me a dirty look, an annoyed grumble, and returns to whatever he was doing - cleaning his car as he claimed.

We have not spoken or waved to each other since that day.  I will continue to lose no sleep over this issue, but we may lose a few more tires.

Getting the Babies to Sleep . . . Sure

I'm not really a napper (unless I'm pregnant), so I don't really take kindly to napping.  James has a habit of staying up way too late wasting time online or working on a new project he probably will not finish when he should be in bed.  He often complains how tired he is, and he usually blames it on poor sleep quality.  I normally blame it on poor bedtime habits.  It's a discussion we have often.

So . . . you can imagine that when I find him napping or suspect he has fallen asleep following one of his late night blogging sessions, I am usually a little aggravated.  Well, on this particular afternoon, he had gone upstairs to "get the babies to sleep", and he was gone for quite a while.  After about 45 minutes, I began to suspect he had fallen asleep, so I was going to wake him up to help me with cleaning.  

Here is what I saw as I opened the door to the babies' room.

I was ready to be mad, but I could not stop laughing.

Why I'm Awake at 6:00 a.m.

The babies are all asleep, at least, now they are.  The dad is back to sleep.  I am still awake recovering from the shock of waking up to hear my baby bounce off the step I use to get into our bed (yes, it's that tall, or I'm that short) and roll onto the floor.  I heard a very small amount of crying, and I woke up like a madwoman yelling, "James, he fell out!".

I know.  Judge if you'd like, but we co-sleep with the babies.  No, not because of some crap I read in a book about co-sleeping and its supposed benefits but because I'm tired.  I started doing it with Jameson because I just couldn't keep waking up 3 or 4 times per night to nurse the kid after the first 5 or 6 weeks.  Jameson and I never had an incident; however, I do remember once waking up in the middle of the night to catch him before he rolled off the edge.  Unfortunately, I am sad to say that Truman broke our safety streak this morning.

At about 5:30 a.m., I heard a head conk against the wooden step we have laying next to my side of the bed.  I then hear a baby roll onto the floor, cry for about 3 seconds, then silence.  I dart out of bed scoop him up, and yell at James.  In my eternal clumsiness, I then rush toward the bathroom and trip on a chair on my way there.  Don't worry.  I caught myself on the loveseat before hitting the ground with my already injured baby.

I turn on the light, and there he is, just smiling back at me.  He has

 a red mark on the likely impact site, but he is totally alert and happy (no surprise there).  I apologize to him about 100 times, and James scolds me about letting them sleep in the bed.  I acknowledge my negligence, but I also inform him that I cannot get up 7 or 8 times per night to feed the twins and get them back to bed.  I promise not to let them sleep on the outer edge, and I will limit the sleeping capacity to 1 baby in the bed at any time.

Two hours later, I am awake and thankful that my baby is okay and back to sleep.  I am blessed a million times over, and we are all so lucky.

You Might Be Surprised to Know . . .

that I do Tae Kwon Do. I started it way back before I was pregnant with the twins as a way of losing my baby weight from Jameson, but I had to take a break once I found out Truman & Amelia were on their way.  I am currently a green belt, which is considered an intermediate rank.  I have several belts to go to get to black, so I'm not exactly a lethal weapon - yet.  Nonetheless, with the comparatively small amount of technique I know, I could probably do a lot of damage to an unsuspecting mugger.  I don't ever want to be jumped, but I am just waiting for the day that I can use my "skills".

I was going to make this blog about the tournament I was in this past weekend, but writing about being jumped reminded me of a funny story that I thought was worth sharing.  

Let me preface this story by saying that I am pretty paranoid when it comes to safety, so I would say that I tend to be more on guard than the average person.

Several months after starting Karate, I was on my way home with just enough time to change and head out to class.  At the time, Jameson was our only child, so James normally took care of him by himself while I was gone.  On this particular evening, I was in a big enough rush that I believe I left my car running and the garage door open.

I ran upstairs, got dressed, and I started to head out the door.  However, just as I am getting to the door that leads to our garage, I see that someone starts to open it.  I remember that I left the garage door, and a tiny bit of fear enters my mind.  I am within a step of the door, so I quickly kick the door closed and press up against it to lock it.  I assume someone is trying to take advantage of my open garage to come into my house.  I yell, "Hey, who is it?".  I hear, "uh, uh. . . ", so I assume the worst - that this creep was trying to get into my house and was not prepared to answer my question.  Appalled at his boldness but more angry than scared, I yell, "Get the @#$! outta here you weirdo!".  I am shocked that he continues to try to open the door.  I am already planning the beating that I will impart . . .  with my Karate skills of course.

Then I hear what sounds like a familiar voice, and I'm slightly embarrassed thinking that it might be someone I know.  Sure enough, I hear, "It's Kip & Clara.".   I open the door, smile, and apologize.  It was my mother-in-law & brother-in-law.  We all had a good laugh.  

Apparently, my husband was expecting them, but he failed to warn me about it.  I wasn't exactly expecting them to come through my garage door.  I am certain that I threw in a few more expletives than I included above, but you get the point.  I think I still kinda freak out my brother-in-law, just a little.

So . . . don't show up to my house unannounced or I may just save that beating I planned for you.

We Got a New Dog!

He named himself "Black" and neighs because he forgot momentarily that dogs bark.  This is JJ's most recent imaginary identity.  Funny, but not nearly uncommon here.  His imagination is running wild recently, and he loves pretending he is anyone but himself.  Each night after bath time, he insists on wearing his Batman or Superman pajamas.  He is then magically transformed into a superhero and asks us to call him either "Batman" or "Superman", per his attire.  I have to say, "Batman, do you want anything else to eat?" or "Superman, go pick out the books you want me to read.".  He enjoys it, and I enjoy playing along with him.

Tonight, we were in the middle of this routine when he decided he didn't want to be Batman even though I had the pj's all ready to go.  I go to put the shirt over his head and he says, "No, I don't want to be Batman".  I respond, a bit surprised, "You don't?  Okay, I'll be Batman".  Then I proceed to try to put the 2T shirt over my head.  As I pull it over my head, I say, "See!  I'm Batman.".  I look over at Jameson and realize that as I was pulling his tiny shirt over my head, he was pulling his pants over his head.  Almost as soon as I proclaim my new superhero status, he proclaims his, "I'm Pantsman!".  At this point, I just lost it.  He's a nut, but I shouldn't be surprised.  He gets his quirky sense of humor from me.

He's not only started imagining he is other people or animals, but he has also started trying to talk to me using fake words - think of Jabba the Hut in the Star Wars movies.  I play along, and he tries to outdo me by coming up with longer fake sentences each time I say one.  I'm not sure what gave him this idea, but it's still funny.  Usually, I can remember some book, cartoon, or movie where he's getting his crazy ideas, but I'm not sure about this one.

I have countless other quirky JJ stories, but I must get to sleep.  James is out of town on business, which leaves me all alone with 3 under 3.  I pray that I make it to morning with the energy to do this 2 more nights.  I'm not complaining though.  I'd rather be with my babies than away from them.

Kids Say . . .

yes, the darndest things. . .

Just a quick post because he made me laugh tonight (not that he doesn't every night).

Jameson likes to watch cartoons in bed with me at night and/or have me read him books before bedtime. Well, tonight I had been doing some work on the computer, so he had not seen much of me in the evening. Whenever I do this, when I finally do go downstairs, he always acts really clingy.

Well, tonight when I finished my work, I went downstairs to tell James I was getting in the shower and taking Truman with me. Jameson immediately comes over to me and grabs my hand. He starts walking up the stairs, and I tell him that I need him to wait with his dad because I'm going to take a shower. He says, "I want to take a shower with you." He's already had his shower at this point, so I say, "No, JJ you've already had your shower. You don't want to take another shower." He persists and while pulling me by the hand says, "No, I want to take my clothes off with you and take a shower together."

I know. He's only 2, but I had to laugh. I am sure he'll enjoy hearing this story when he's older.

Bad Day

Today, I was a bad mother . . . well, not really today, but yesterday. It was just a bad enough day that I didn't get to post about it.

After a long hiatus from blogging, I decided that if I didn't get a post up already, I might as well just quit altogether.

We're going on two weeks now with at least 1 or more sick babies. I'm not sure if they're picking up different viruses or if the course of this one is just really long. Jameson keeps pulling out mile long boogers (I know, TMI) despite my efforts to stop him. Nonetheless, I think we're on the tailend of it.

Ordinarily, my mother comes out during the day to help me keep my sanity and make sure at least JJ's needs are met. Well, as luck would have it, she got sick too. As much as I would have liked her to come out anyway, I told her to stay home until she was totally healthy. Today, I paid for it.

The morning started out innocently enough with JJ and mom curled up watching some cartoons. I had gotten up earlier to feed the babies, so they slept until 10:30. Then, all hell broke loose. Truman woke up crying, and I thought I would feed him and he'd likely go back to sleep. I fed him, but he didn't go back to sleep. At this point, I needed to get JJ some breakfast, so I set Truman in his swing to make JJ some eggs and oatmeal. Breakfast was the usual struggle with Jameson, but Truman cried in the background the whole time.

After I finished with Jameson, I tried feeding Truman again, but I could tell I was out of milk. Instead, I made him a bottle. He refused it even though he was hungry. I was starving at this point, and I knew I would not have any milk unless I ate. I made myself breakfast, and, again, Truman cried all the way through my breakfast.

I thought since he had a chance to get pretty hungry, he would take some formula. Wrong again. He still refused it, and continued to cry. Now, Amelia wakes up and wants to eat. So, again, I set Truman down to feed Amelia, and he continues crying. She fusses most of the way through her meal (as usual), but seems happy by the time she is finished. I set her down to try to deal with Truman. I feed him some more, and he finally falls asleep. I breathe a sigh of relief, and take a moment to change JJ.

No sooner do I get JJ cleaned up, then Truman is crying again. I try some formula again, but he continues to refuse it. So I bite the bullet, and just let him sit there and nurse as much as he can. He is content for a short while and dozes off to sleep again. In all this commotion, JJ asks me, "Can I get something to eat?" (no joke - those were his exact words) . I apologize to him, and tell him I am doing my best but Truman is not really cooperating today. I set Truman down expecting him to start crying shortly. He does, but I continue with JJ's lunch.

It's about 1 pm at this point when I finish Jameson's lunch, and I sit down with him to make sure he eats. Truman continues crying in the background. We are finished by about 1:30, and I return to Truman. I try a bottle again, but he still refuses. I nurse him as much as I can, but I haven't eaten much so I have not produced much milk. While feeding Truman, I decide I want the doctor to look at JJ's eye since he has been picking at it since he's been sick. I was worried about pink eye or some type of infection, so I wanted to say on top of it. They give me an appointment at 4.

I called James at work, and told him to come home as soon as possible because I have an appointment for JJ, and Truman has spent the entire day crying. Somehow he understands that I need him home by 3:30 pm. I continue to struggle with a fussy Truman, a tired JJ, and a hungry Amelia. James gets to the house at about 3:25, and I run upstairs to change out of my PJ's sadly enough. JJ and I rush to get ready and head out the door.

I have a few moments of peace from 3:30 until 5:30, when we return home. James feels bad about the stressful day I've had and sends me to the bookstore with Jameson to get away. Yet, I'm tired, so an outting to the bookstore was not really in my plans. I need to fill JJ's prescription, so I decide to go to Target, and see if he forgets about the bookstore. (JJ likes to go to Barnes & Noble because in the Kids' section they have a Thomas the Train trainset that all the kids like).

We get to Target, and I take his prescription to the counter. She tells me it will be ready in 10 minutes, but I didn't give it much thought since I figured I would just pick it up once we finished. JJ and I go on to look at the toys and anything else we can to pass the time. By the time I decide we're ready to go, I head back to the pharmacy window to pick up the prescription. However, it's closed at this point. I was pretty ticked, but I guess I only had myself to blame. I didn't realize they closed the pharmacy before the rest of the store.

We headed back home and get home to find that dinner's not ready. We settle on hot dogs and mac-n-cheese (not the healthiest choice, but definitely one of the quickest). I don't care at all at this point and just eat whatever is in front of me. The night cannot end soon enough.

JJ eats. I feed the babies, who continued fussing on and off. James takes JJ to shower, then I take him up to hang out for a while. I passed out at some point, and James took care of everything else. Thank God! I needed it. It doesn't sound like much, but listening to babies cry ALL DAY LONG makes for a pretty stressful day.

I was short on hands, time, and patience. I hope my children forgive me.