Partners in crime

This afternoon and evening was one of those nights babies have. The kind where if he's not eating every hour, he's crying. Every time he'd fall asleep, I'd sigh in relief. Only to sigh in weariness a few minutes later. Fortunately, and sometimes unfortunately, Isaiah loves his brother very very much. To the point of not being able to resist waking him up. Or at least encouraging him to wake up. You know how babies sometimes open their eyes, look around then fall back asleep. That's Isaiah's favorite time to run up and start blowing raspberries, talk animatedly to Truman, or insist on giving him "just one little kiss." This of course, would wake him, then he'd cry until I fed him again. Don't get me wrong, I understand babies go through growth spurts. I don't mind. It's nice in some ways. But he was so fussy, and I just wanted him to get some sleep. Isaiah was not allowing this to happen, so I started freaking out. He did it twice in a minute span, I told Cameron to take him out of the room and spank him. Usually I'm the one telling Cameron to find another way to discipline Isaiah... In fact just this morning after a battle that ended with 'I hate you' and 'you're mean' with a 'don't talk to me' or two thrown in, I was discouraging the whole issue... but tonight, I was done in. So I sent Isaiah to his doom in his room. It was awfully quiet in there for a minute, then I heard a slapping sound, followed by, "OW!" Then nothing. Then another slapping sound. Then, "I hate you!" Then nothing. Then another slapping sound. Another "OW!" Slap, "GO away! Don't Talk to me!" Slap.
Did you know Moms are endowed with a special, special gift called intuition? It kicked in, from the first "OW!" Something was up. I got up with Truman and went to Isaiah's door knowing I was going to walk into a farce. I opened it quickly- declaring, "FAKERS!" Sure enough mid-slap/OW! Isaiah was lying on his bed and Cameron was standing across the room leaning against the crib. Both of them had conspiratorial grins on their faces.
They're both grounded now.

Garbage

I have been getting more and more tired of stuff. I mean actual stuff. There is always stuff on my floors, everywhere I go in my house. I'm guilty too. My room is as bad as Ali's. Well almost. Everywhere there's just stuff. It never get's solved, because even if we clean it one day, it's on the floor the next. Lately I've had an overwhelming urge just to throw everything in the garbage. I know I'd regret it later, when I need a pencil to write with, or a hairbrush, or toys to entertain my kids. But right now, from where I'm standing... I need about 17 extra large garbage bags.

I'll keep him, though.

blast to the past day

I haven't done a blast to the past day for a while... Here's a couple for ya, Guess who? Click on the first one to enlarge it. It's much more enjoyable in detail.