The change in routine, however, can also turn your adorable little toddlers into screaming little dictators with a short man syndrome more contagious than yawing.
Holy snot buckets, y'all. They may all 3 weigh less, combined, than my left boob, but when they gang up on you, it means war. Okay, maybe not my left boob (sorry Thelma). If my left boob weighed 80 lbs, it would be dragging on the ground - OMG the visual - and that would be weird and people would notice. Andmyboobsaresymtricalthankyouverymuch.
After the tree debacle of 2012, I was determined that this year wouldn't be a repeat. So, after perusing Pinterest for baby safe tree decorating ideas, I stocked up on soft and shatterproof ornaments, cool touch led lights, and ribbons to use instead of hooks. Because Christmas is to be experienced, damn it!
This was the end result.
|Eat your heart out, Martha|
You see that broken curtain rod? Yeah, that. It came down, permanently, with the third (of 4 times total) time that itty bitty curly headed princess in the background yanked off yet another ornament. There is a picture outfit hanging off the remaining piece of the rod holder thingy because The Firefighter likes to hang things off of every available hanging whatchamacallit he can find. Except hangers, you know, in the closet. Because apparently that would be more effort than walking around the house looking spots to hang shit.
Not but moments after I snapped this handy dandy iPhone pic (maybe someday I will get a real camera -though I'm not holding my breathe seeing as how I'm married to broke ass fireman!), Miss Chatterbox took her new found scissor skills to the beaded garland to divide it up for her and her sisters to play with.
OMG. While I appreciate the sharing sentiment and problem solving skills.... IwillnotraisebratsIwillnotraisebratsIwillnotraisebrats.
We are currently operating under Mommy Martial Law. Their little hineys are wearing out the Timeout Mat because they are some stubborn little beans. Though truthfully, they are mostly wearing me out. Two days in and they are showing no signs of surrender! These are the no fun, stinky, OMG-is-it-bedtime-yet moments of parenting, were you have to hold your ground, when it would be so much easier, and a few decibels quieter, to go with the whole "pick your battles" philosophy and ignore minor infractions. But every now and then, they must be reminded that you are the parent, you are the boss, and they must listen to and respect you or it will completely suck for them.
Oh yeah, and the idea floating around Pinterest that Mr. Jolly Jingle Butt (our daily renamed elf on the shelf) can help with discipline....Ha ha, yeah, not with the 4 and under crowd. PSA, people, don't waste your time!!
I'm going to leave you with a very blurry picture of the Fireball Whiskey Firetruck from last nights parade. It's like two parts of my life smushed into one! Can you imagine the 911 calls if firetrucks delivered fireball? Hello, hello operator, I have an emergency. I'm too sober. Send the fireball truck immediately!
Happy Monday, Y'all!