And already it is December. Kingston has been with us for over a month, which to me is insane. We are still trying to adjust to all of the newness in our home. Kingston is pretty amazing. He is just this little fragile being but at the same time he is a tough brute. I think he is a sensitive soul. I think both of my boys are. Kingston is not loving daycare. Mom is not loving dropping Kingston off at daycare. The little lamb-head howls. It gets worse everyday. Now it starts as soon as I ask him to brush his teeth. It is completely heart-wrenching. I know that everybody says that he will get used to it and that kids react this way but our situation it is different. Every morning Kingston probably thinks he is being dropped off to stay. He probably thinks that if he is a good boy we will pick him up at the end of the day. I know this by his complete surprise and unbelievable happiness when we pick him up at night. I want to be able to tell him that we will not leave him, that it is not another orphanage but I cannot and this breaks me each day.
In other news, Kingston is eating like a professional. He can put down the food. Last night he had about 10 chicken nuggets, which kind of disgusts me. He needs to fatten up though. Luckily enough for Ryan and I, Kingston seems to go to the bathroom at school so that we do not have to deal with the consequences of too much unfamiliar food. We knew he loved us.
Kingston got footie pajamas from his Grandma BJ and Grandpa Kirby and the kid looks awesome in them. Everest wanted some so I was able to find some. The two of them in their footies is pretty great. Took some good pictures last night of my footied kids. I will try to post them later.
We’ve laid down the law in our house that mom is not a jungle gym. It seems that whenever I sit on the couch I am trampled on. With Kingston it isn’t so bad because it is like a pesky fly that lands on you but with 45 lbs of Everest it can get a bit dangerous.
The boys have a habit of walking around while brushing their teeth just like Ryan. This is a habit of Ryan’s that I detest on many levels. Now the kids will walk out of the bathroom, footy pajamas on and toothbrushes hanging from their mouths. I will yell, “Get back in the bathroom,” and will chase them back in. Well now it has turned into a game where they run back into the bathroom and Ryan and I hide. We proceed to scare the crap out of them when they come out. There is going to be a lot of dental work if this continues.
Everest is doing better at not annoying me. Yesterday he managed to keep his hands to himself for the most part. The other day I caught him coming out of my closet where the Christmas presents are. He said he was just looking at my clothes. Um yeah, I don’t have spiderman T-shirts so there is no way you are looking at clothes. I told him to say goodbye to his Christmas presents. A massive mental breakdown ensued where there was the continuous mantra of howling, “No goodbye my Christmas presents.” I am a softie and told them I wouldn’t take them back after Ryan told me that he looked at Christmas presents too as a kid. What?!? I never did that. Just another difference between boys and girls I suppose. How are we wired so differently?
Today is my birthday. I am 34. I am not too excited to be 34 but there is some sort of level of excitement still on having a birthday. I used to do it up on my birthday but kids put a damper on all you can drink at the Nitty Gritty. I can’t believe I am 34. Seriously. Where did the last 34 years go? I have a husband and two kids and a cat and a house? No wait, I still have two houses. I am an adult. Why do I not feel like an adult? At some point do we start feeling like adults? I don’t think I want to.
Whoever said that having kids was rewarding? I do not feel rewarded. I feel tired. Having kids makes you tired. Having kids makes you feel pretty crabby. Having kids ages you. Will my kids pay for botox? I love them but wow. You should see us at night. Not sure how people maintain a relatively peaceful existence with two kids. We were duped.
No comments:
Post a Comment