The Hot Wheels Massage

I love my kids. Everyone loves their kids in that, "I gave birth to you, so I have to" kind of way. But If you are a mom, you are straight up LYING if you say there are never days that you don't think, "What the hell was I thinking letting some whiny ass kid take up residence in my, once peaceful, home." Most of my days are spend saying (read: yelling) "Cade, don't hit your brother", "Carson, get that out of your nose.", "Boys, please stop putting your toys in the oven because if I keep almost setting the house on fire they are going to kick us out."

Now, I know I should say (because it's what people want to hear) that I go to bed every night and thank God for my two precious boys. But in my reality (which is ya'll's reality too even if you don't want to say it out loud), there are many nights that I go to bed and pray, "Lord, if those kids wake up before me in the morning and start whining about breakfast before I can even open my damn eyes, I'm going to give them to the hobos down by Baylor." And, because I believe that our God is a God of all realities, every now and then he answers those prayers too.

Case in point: Last night was a rough night. Both of the boys have a croupy cough and didn't sleep well. Therefore, I didn't sleep well. So, imagine my all consuming rage when, at 7:00 this morning both of the boys come into my room saying, "Mom, we're hungry." I say to them, "Guys, just climb up in bed with me and lets hang out for a little bit.". "Can we bring some of our cars?", they ask. "Absolutely, if it will keep me from having to get up, you can bring that whole damn playroom." So they climb up in my bed, one on either side of me, with about 20 hot wheels cars. I am trying hard to stay asleep, laying on my stomach with my face buried in the pillow. I hear Cade say, "Look bubba, Mom has a big butt. It looks like a mountain." What the hell? Is it not enough that I am awake at 7 am fighting back the thoughts of packing your bags and calling an adoption agency, now you have to point out how big my ass is? Really? And then something amazing happened. Something that I can only imagine as divine intervention. They started using my mountain of an ass and my back and legs as a "road" for their cars.

Holy hell, it was better than any massage I have EVER had. They did this for a full 30 min and I was able to fall back asleep!!!! Of course, I was eventually thrown back into reality by Cade punching Carson in the face and both of them screaming in my ear but, thanks to the half hour massage, I was relaxed and was able to resist the urge to throw them out on the street. So, my prayer of thanksgiving this morning was, "Lord, thank you for my precious boys and thank you for giving me an ass that resembles a mountain."

The Toy Eater

I realize that my parenting strategies and those of others usually differ DRASTICALLY. And that I am usually a "trial and error" kind of mom, but HOLY CRAP, I've found something that is working!!!

We were reading stories the other night before bed and Carson had picked out a Shel Silverstein book full of silly poetry. One of the poems was called, "The Toy Eater". It was about a monster that comes out after the kids have gone to sleep and eats all the toys that have been left out on the floor. While I'm reading it, I am thinking to myself, "this might work". So, after the story I attempt to convince my children that the toy eater does, in fact, exist. Cade bought it right away...he jumped down immediately to check for any stray toys. Carson, my more logical child, had some questions.

"Where does the Toy Eater live?" - Outside

"Where outside" - Underground, but he only comes out at night. - I have to be careful here because he will check my story.

"What kinds of toys does he eat?" - All kinds

"How does he chew up my cars?" - With his sharp teeth

(with wide eyes) "Will he eat me? - (oops) No baby he only eats toys- whew, almost went too far.

"What does he eat if I don't leave my toys out?" - Carrots

"We don't have any carrots." - Bread

This goes on for about another 5 min. Meanwhile, Cade has made damn sure there are no toys out and is already back in bed. Cade says, "He's real, bubba...we have to pick up our toys.". Now I'm not sure why a 3 yr olds word is more solid than his mom's, but Carson buys it.

So now, every night before bath, they pick up their toys!!! They are even convinced that I have the toy eater's number and can summon him at any given moment. It's BRILLIANT. It's the year long equivalent to, "I'm calling Santa". We shall see how long it lasts....stay tuned!!