I like gummy bear | i love gummy bear | gummy bear song english

My babies are now about the same age that my older kids were when I started this blog. And I'm remembering why I had to start it. They are so unintentionally funny. These two, because they've got older siblings, just want to be grown up. They want to act like the big kids and talk like the big kids. Thus, H walks around constantly saying "Seriously?!" just like his big sister. Except it comes out "Theriouthly?!" Today in the car: They asked for the windows down and I obliged. They rode the whole way home from Target with their arms out the windows, saying "This is SO Wiccan !" (Uh, that would be their version of "This is so wicked !") "So freakin' Wiccan!" Once again, I am so proud of my parenting abilities.

C & H had their first soccer game today. Pre-K herdball to be sure. But they got it. The benefit of spending the last four years getting hauled to sibling soccer games is that you understand a little bit about the game before your parents throw you out there for their own entertainment. I'm not saying they're MLS-ready or anything but it was pretty great. And they each scored a goal! Here are the goals in all of their spectacular glory...

Sorry for the sideways orientation - this was from my phone and I have no idea how to fix it. Also, I know this is long but there are gems sprinkled throughout (including a terrific shot to the face at about the 5:01 mark...).

May flush closed (only if an original round Bakugan). Will generally not flush while open. May eventually flush over time. Except when deposited in conjunction with the aforementioned Bakugan. Will never, ever, ever flush if the shaving cream is flushed while still in the can. If travel-sized, however, the can will travel far enough up the toilet innards to necessitate the removal of the stool from the water supply and drain in order to retrieve. Not sure about every Sonic Sea Tot, but the Orca is definitely not flushable. Big thanks and shout out to my 3 1/2 year old twin boys for this educational plumbing-related post.

My kids love to play in our driveway and on our sidewalk - and I am very lucky that: 1. They are very good about staying out of the street. 2. We live at the bottom of a culdesac at the end of a fairly long subdivision street. (Very, very few cars make it all the way down this far...) and 3. My office window has full view of all the goings-on in our driveway, on our sidewalk and in the culdesac (and is two steps away from the front door from which I can speak, yell, run, etc. as necessary). So, I do let my kids - big and little - play out there while I get some work done in my office from time to time. And this? This is what I saw when I looked out this afternoon. Fishing the culdesac. And they were pulling in some whoppers too.

My first child had a little issue with haircuts as a small person. He was banned from Great Clips at age 2 1/2. The whole thing kinda freaked him out. Tears, snot, screaming, squirming. It's all good now. He sorta even likes getting his hair did now. My little guys have had several haircuts over their three years. And, other than the first one or two (which occurred on my bathroom counter with me on the shears), they've had them done at the local children's hair salon. The one with race car seats and buckets of DumDums. Because there's nothing better than a sticky sucker coated with bits of hair. Mmmmm. My husband has been chomping at the bit to buzz the babies' hair (and, yes, they're still my "babies"). C had a nice floppy, bowl-ish look going. H had...well, he had a mess of hair. Thin but wild. Hello, floppy. Hello, wild. I pushed him off for months but finally relented and said that he could buzz them for summer. Summer came early this weekend bec

1. Two Bakugan - one open, one closed (who knows how many others actually made it to the sewer line) 2. One bar of Ivory soap 3. Lid of one travel-sized container of solid deodorant 4. One travel-sized can of Gillette shaving cream. A CAN of shaving cream. That last one? Required the draining and removal of the stool from the water source and drain hole in order to remove. Gross. I'll give you two guesses as to how those things got flushed:

My three-year-olds are starting to put all the pieces of the language puzzle together. Often, with humorous results. The latest? Two different problems with pronouns. "DON'T TOUCH MY COMPUTER!" Probably a command I bark at least once a day. It has come to my attention though that, in their attempts to maneuver the perilous roads of English grammar, my little boys don't entirely understand possessive pronouns. Now we hear things like "That's Daddy's mycomputer" and "Where's Mommy's mycomputer?" When I throw on an old t-shirt bearing the name of the college bar my husband worked at back in the day (shut up, you still have college t-shirts in your drawers too), one of my three-year-olds says, "Look! It's your mycomputer!" Here's the logo: Contrary to toddler belief, it's not a computer monitor. It's a stylized depiction of this: A beer schooner. Believe me, my husband didn't hang out at a lot of places wit

Back in the day (for the uninitiated, "the day" was circa 1981/1982 for purposes of this post), I was known to attend the school skating parties at my local roller skating rink. Which one of my elementary school friends on Facebook so helpfully pointed out was The Great American Skate on the Berlin Turnpike in Connecticut (was it in Berlin or Newington?). I can still see that rink in my mind's eye. Everything about it. It wasn't in our town so we didn't hang out there per se - just birthday parties and the occasional school skate. But I remember it with excitement. A purely social co-ed activity when there were few others. Fifth and sixth grades were the height of roller rink excitement for me. (Which coincided with the general discovery of boys as cute, giggle-inducing entertainment.) My big kids are first and second graders. Their school has a few after-school skates every year - but we've never attended. Until this month. On a whim, I decided that we'd

Gotta love it! (Now if I can just get them to learn the Notre Dame fight song...)

I think I'm actually going to shut down the ole innernets for the holidays now...here's a pic of my blessed angels. (I'm currently hiding in the office, trying not to kill each and every friggin one of the "angels" before Santa can get here. Day FOUR of winter break, people. Day FOUR. OMG.) This is the photo on my Christmas cards, which were just mailed yesterday. Oh, do I ever have my shit together this year... Anyway, Merry Christmas. I hope that yours is happy and peaceful and whatever you wish it to be.

I've been doing some work this morning. My two-and-a-half year old twins decided to dress themselves. Here is their handiwork: (It is currently 40 degrees and damp outside, by the way.) They also decided to cover my bathroom carpet with a healthy layer of shaving cream and Rain-X. Why do people put carpet in bathrooms? Good morning.

I can recall saying to mothers of other toddlers, "I thought age 3 was WAY worse than age 2 for my kids." But I couldn't remember exactly why. My babies will be three in January. And now I remember. "I do it myself." All day. Every day. Times two. Slowly leading me to to insanity. Picking out clothes? I do it myself. Taking off and putting on clothes? I do it myself. Taking off and putting on socks and shoes? Yep. I do it myself. Opening the door to the garage. Hitting the garage door opener button. Opening the car door. Putting on car seat straps. Buckling car seat straps. Getting out of the car. Closing the car door. Opening doors at stores and restaurants. Wiping nose. Packing backpack. I do it myself. (Note: Often, there is only one thing to do - like close the car door. So, then we have to open and close the car door twice - because, well, there's two of them and they both want to do it themselves.) I am now late to everything. Every time. I know that t

Dear Walmarts: The cost/benefit ratio can't be favorable to you. When a mother of toddler(s) walks into your gargantuan "super" store and is immediately confronted with a coin-operated kiddie car, are many really stopping to pump it full of quarters before continuing with their shopping extravaganza? I quit you once before because of this. About five years ago. G was 2. The Mickey Mouse car at the entrance caused me to lose my shit in front of the poor, kind, retired greeter. As I dragged my screaming child out of your store by his armpit, pushing the shopping cart containing one-year-old M precariously with one hand, I believe I said something along the lines of "I will NEVER come back to this fucking store until all of the goddamn kiddie rides and vending machines are GONE!" My boycott lasted a little while. I stuck to my guns for about a year if I recall correctly. And the kids grew and I forgot and forgave. Until today. At one of your "super" store

These guys started Mother's Day Out yesterday. They will go on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 9:30 to 2:30. Their first day was terrific. C even told me that playing outside at school was "awesome". They played and had circle time and ate lunch at a table with the rest of the kids. Next week, they'll stay a little longer and have naptime too. (We'll see how that goes...) I think I'm going to really enjoy the time on my own. It's been a while. I didn't think I would miss them. And I didn't while they were there. But when I returned and saw them through the doorway, minding their manners, sitting at the lunch table like such big boys? And when their faces lit up when they finally noticed I was there? My heart ached just a little bit - partly because I realized that I had actually missed them a bit and partly because I realized, in that moment, that my babies were on their way to not being my "babies" anymore.

My two-year-olds to each other: Rock, Paper, nuh, nuh, GO! (with rochambeau hand movements) ******* My six-year-old, during a gourmet sloppy joe dinner last night: I have a sesame seed bun. My seven-year-old: I have a delicious and nutritious whole wheat bun. My six-year-old: If I plant these seeds, will it grow bread? ******* My two-year-old at his very first movie last week (very loudly, as the prehistoric squirrel in the Ice Age movies appeared on the screen to start the film): OHMYGOD! WHAT IS THAT? ******* And, I'll leave you with this. What my six-year-old does to her brother when left unattended.

I won't re-tell the Omaha story here. I posted pics and words over at KCKidsFun - click here to read Weekend Family Getaway from Kansas City: Omaha . And we'll be headed back next summer for sure. I've only been asked about it every day since we got back. A big hit.

Sorry for the poor video quality - it's J's cameraphone. This is classic C. Turn up your volume and enjoy.

My husband doesn't blog. Doesn't really understand what a blog is. But I took some video footage of the little guys today and he just put together this perfect picture of life with C and H...