I didn't invite you...

The other day I was going about my usual business of cleaning the house for the billionth time of the day when I noticed something unusual. A bag of chips sitting on my counter had a hole in it that looked as if it was made with teeth. Tiny teeth. Not like Peyton's teeth when she tries to get into her fourth bag of Cheetos in one day even though I tell her NO. But instead, tiny teeth that kind of resembled mice teeth. In my head alarms were ringing and screaming saying THIS ISN'T GOOD! But surely I wouldn't have mice in my house. No way. All I do is clean. Yes I have a husband, two kids, and two dogs but I do keep my house fairly clean. I texted Brad and told him to pick up some mouse traps on the way home from work, but reassured him (and myself) that we didn't need them and instead I am just being paranoid. That was Thursday.

Saturday morning at 5:45 Campbell decides it's time to eat. I stumbled into the kitchen half asleep, made a bottle in the dark because it's entirely too early to turn on the lights, and as I am about to head back into the bedroom something catches my eye. I look into the kitchen sink and think my mind is playing a game on me because SURELY that isn't a furry little thing sitting there watching me. After a good 15 seconds of standing utterly still and debating on whether or not I should turn on the light, I finally reach over and hit the switch. Lo and behold, there is a MOUSE sitting there so still in my sink looking straight at me. I was too scared to scream bloody murder like my mind was wanting me to, so there we sat and played chicken for at least a minute, seeing who would make the first move. Finally, I manage to call out Brad's name and told him to get in here this instant. He walks in, looks at me and cannot figure out what the hell is going on and why I am frozen with a look of horror on my face. My mouth wasn't working again so I could only point to the monster that was sitting there, daring me to make the first move. After he became aware of what I was staring at, I hauled ass into the bedroom and took refuge for most of the day, letting Brad deal with our unwanted guests.

Not how I wanted to start my weekend.

Saturday afternoon I realized that more than one critter had decided to move in. My husband definitely thinks I am such a girl now after hearing me scream nonstop in the highest pitch ever whenever something moved. Or when I saw a shadow. Or when I thought I found mouse droppings but really it was a piece of lint. In fact, I'm sure we need to get his hearing checked now. I am not going to lie, I was totally that girl that screamed and scrambled onto the nearest table after seeing a tiny mouse. P.S - climbing onto a table is a hard thing to do when having a newborn and a two-year old in your hands. Just FYI.

Brad played whack-a-mole for the majority of the weekend and five little mice have gone to mice heaven so far. We did see one more but that little sucker escaped and hopefully he is realizing that it is time to pack up and move onto greener pastures. Like the back yard. Like now please.

So little mice, I didn't invite you. You have overstayed your welcome. Well, technically you were never welcomed but we won't go there. Find another place to call home! Or else you may become paralyzed by some horrifying, ear piercing, girly screams.

What I see/hear

(I am "borrowing" this concept from another blog, hope this is ok.... She writes a fabulous blog and every now and then see writes this posts titled "What I hear..." where she describes cute things her daughters have done and said. I love the idea and think it's a great way to tell stories of the kids without making it into a long story (I do have a tendency to ramble sometimes).)




As we were leaving the gym today, I told Peyton it was time to go to the car wash. She said "no car wash" repeatedly and was not happy about the idea at all. She even turned on the waterworks. I tried to make it sound like it was going to be so fun to give the car a bath and we could sing songs while we did it. Nothing was working. Finally I told her that I wanted the car to be pretty like Peyton. She instantly became quiet and thought about the idea. I asked her "Peyton, are you pretty?" She broke out in a huge grin and said "yes, I'm pretty."

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The girls and I were sitting on the bed eating lunch (bottle for Campbell) and watching a movie. All of a sudden, Peyton reached over and grabbed my phone and said "think I call daddy" and proceeded to chat it up on the phone. I finally called him for her so that she could have a real conversation and they spent 5 minutes on the phone talking about Ice Age II. Peyton does adore her daddy!

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The other day Peyton, Campbell, and I were sitting outside enjoying (or trying to at least) the beautiful weather. Peyton was in a "terrible twos" kind of mood since she did not take a good nap after school and every single thing was causing a major meltdown. It got so bad to the point where I was thisclose to spanking her and putting in her bed for the night (it was only 4 pm). Then, it became hilarious. Peyton finally calmed down for a second and I thought we were in the clear when all of a sudden she saw a leaf fall from a tree. The girl broke out into tears, screamed and cried, and threw herself on the ground. Apparently that particular leaf needed permission before it could fall off the tree. I think the tree is now too scared to let anymore leaves fall off.

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The girls and I were in the car headed home after running some errands. Poor Campbell was screaming her head off because it was time to eat. In attempt to get her quiet, I begged Peyton to sing Campbell a song. Peyton instantly started singing the ABCs in a cute high pitch voice accompanied with some head swaying and Campbell fell right back to sleep. I so wish I had gotten a video of it! Peyton looks so adorable when she sings!

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When Campbell is fussy, I often ask her why she is crying as if I am really going to get a response from her. One day in the car, Campbell started crying and I was unable to console her. All of a sudden I hear Peyton ask, "Campbell, why you cry? Why? No cry!"


Ok those are the only ones I can remember right now. Hope you enjoyed the mini-stories!

WARNING --- TMI alert

Ok folks, this post involves a story that includes details of bowel habits. Do not read if you are easily disgusted or have a weak stomach. Or just don't feel like reading about someone else's day in the bathroom. I am so embarrassed to tell this story, but it's one that I will share with Peyton in a few years.







As a mother of two little ones, I have discovered that everything happens at the same time. The girls coordinate everything to occur simultaneously with such precision that it scares me. This wouldn't bother me as much since I know they are little and have many needs. But the thing is, they coordinate these needs at the most inopportune time for me. They both have massive poopy diapers that require immediate changing at the exact same time. They both want to be fed at the exact same time. They both want to be held at the exact same time. They both want to talk to me about their day at the same time. Except for naps of course. No, no, no. Not naps. No way would they think about taking naps at the same time.

You get the point. Sometimes having two under two is just not convenient for me.

Well, the other day something happened that just further proved my point. Campbell was sleeping peacefully, Peyton was playing by herself in the playroom, and I was laying down for a split second (a rare moment in this house). All of a sudden my stomach started rumbling. That questionable meal I had consumed earlier was no longer questionable. It became a fact that I so should not have eaten it. For a few minutes, I was sitting there wondering if my stomach would be able to fight off the meal or if I was going to be stuck in the bathroom for awhile. Of course at that very moment that my stomach decided that it was time to go the bathroom, Campbell woke up screaming, demanding to be fed. I quickly dashed into the kitchen, made a bottle so fast that it went down in the books as THE quickest bottle ever made, ran back into my bedroom, changed Campbell's diaper since she had decided to have a major poopy at that very minute, yelled out to Peyton to watch her movie for a little while, and I went into the bathroom with Campbell. (YOU MAY WANT TO STOP READING HERE IF YOU AREN'T ALREADY SO GROSSED OUT). So there I was, multitasking while sitting on the toilet - feeding Campbell and giving my stomach a break - when Peyton decides to join in the awesome party in mommy's bathroom. My stomach was in some serious knots, I was in some serious pain and not in a good mood, Campbell was eating and spitting up at the same time, and Peyton had a huge wad of toilet paper in her hands and was asking me repeatedly "Momma, I wipe? Momma, I wipe??" as she tried to reach around me and wipe my you-know-what. She was trying to be such a big helper, trying to help her mommy wipe her peaches ("peaches" are used instead of "butt" around here). I couldn't quite explain in nice terms that honey, this is NOT a good time to be a big helper. I finally shooed her off with a promise of a popsicle later, Campbell finally settled down and finished her bottle in peace, and my stomach finally was rid of all nasty food that I will never eat again.

That, folks, is how my life with two is like nowadays.