No, I’m not going to go through and find all the examples but you know what I’m talking about if you’ve been reading this blog for a while. If you don’t and you don’t feel like reading through 4 years of babbling, let me sum it up thusly:

My co-workers LOVE hearing about my morning debates with Jaden. They are epic and while I end up getting her to get dressed and ready, there is a LOOOOOONG process involved that, while the details vary from day to day, is made up of these steps:

1.       I wake up

2.       I pick out the children’s clothes.

3.       Jonas wakes up and gets ready no problem.

4.       I wake Jaden up nicely and sweetly.

5.       My demeanor rapidly changes to that of a harpy.

6.       Jaden remains silent until she’s dressed then she’s happy and chipper while I seethe.

Last Thursday (a week ago today) was…well, here, let me tell you.

It was the coldest day of the season thus far. We woke up to -12 degrees (NOT the wind-chill reading might I point out) and I was less than thrilled. I picked out Jaden’s clothes and asked her nicely to” wake up, sweetie, it’s very cold so I need you to get up and ready so we can get out the door on-time if not early.” I left the room with a, “C’mon, J, get up,” and went to pick out Jonas’ clothes and make sure he went potty.

He did. Because he’s an angel. And totally my favorite.

Of course he wasn’t wearing any pants or underpants, but y’know, half of that battle was over while the one with Jaden was just beginning.

I went back to Jaden’s room and found her at least sitting upright and told her I was going to get dressed and when I came out of my room I wanted her in and back out of the bathroom and getting dressed herself. She came out of her room while I went into mine, knowing full well she would not be dressed even a little bit but hoping against hope she would be back in her room.

Coming out of the room, I say, “Jaden, did you go potty?”

“Yeah!” she calls from the bathroom. I sigh, hang my head and say, “Great. Now wipe your tushie, get back in your room and get dressed. Please.” She comes out of the bathroom wearing her jammie top and underpants. A couple minutes pass and I go into her room and find her sitting on her bed not moving. “Ok, your underpants, socks, and clothes are on your [bunk bed] ladder. Get dressed.”

Let’s skip ahead to when I was finished getting ready and had finished getting Jonas ready and went back to check on Jaden.

WHO WAS STILL SITTING ON HER BED WEARING JUST HER JAMMIE TOP AND UNDERPANTS.

“JADEN?? What are you doing? It’s been 15 minutes and you haven’t done anything!”

Without a word, she lies back on her bed, legs up in the air and points with both hands at her crotch. She completes this lovely picture with a look on her face that clearly reads, “Hello? I changed my underwear.”

Livid, I execute a slow-cap, “Congratulations, you changed your underwear. Could you maybe put the rest of your clothes on now?”

Less than two minutes later she prances into the bathroom to brush her hair and teeth. TWO MINUTES! TWO MINUTES??! What the hell was she doing those 15 minutes before?

Lather. Rinse. Repeat for the next 8,000 years.

Guy: “Your total is $4.27”

Me: “Here you go!” (hands him my card and ID)

Guy: (looks at my ID) “Oh, I don’t really need this.” (turns my card over, see ‘SEE ID’ written in the signature box)”Oh.”

Me: “Yeah, I had my card stolen once so I put that on there.”

Guy:  “Oh, well, whatever. I don’t even know what I’m looking for.”

Me: “Well, for starters, if the name matches…”

Guy: “Yeah, I guess.”

Me: “They never trained you on standard card reading procedures?”

Guy: “Whatever. They don’t pay me enough to learn.”

Me: “Uh…huh…”

Guy: (hands me card and receipt) “Your order number is 108. Have a nice day.”

Me: “Yeah, you, too.”

OK, let’s just think about this exchange. First, guy blows off the fact that I handed him my ID, which in itself is a voluntary security check on my part. Then he further blows off the importance of checking identity AFTER I tell him I had my card stolen. THEN he blames his pay grade for not knowing how to check a damn name?

As Jessie said, “They need to take his Service Champion name tag away.”

When I got home from the grocery store (we needed some corn/maple syrup), my little man ran into the kitchen like he always does yelling with his arms held out and a big smile on his face, “Mommy! Mommy’s home!”  You’d think I’d become immune or used to this greeting but it’s a guaranteed mood brightener. Not that I needed one last night, not with pancakes coming. I swooped him up relishing in the feel of him snuggling into my chest as I hug him close and said hello. I put him down and went to say hello to the rest of family, who are usually there with Jonas and found my husband and daughter playing Disney Universe together. Jaden flashed me a bright smile and “Hi, mommy!” and Matt threw me a, “Hey, babe.”

Back to the kitchen I went and started gathering the flour, sugar, eggs, and other things needed. Jonas followed me like a puppy (speaking of puppies, Daisy’s usually the first one to greet me at the door and after a firm, “Down!” from me, I say hello to her, too.) and started talking non-stop about his day but paused long enough to ask me, “Mommy, what we having for dinner?”

“Pancakes, bacon and eggs!”

“YAY!!!” he clapped and jumped up and down, “I WUV pancakes, bacon, and eggs!”

He ran off to tell his sister the good news and I started making the pancake batter. He came in a short time later jumping and clapping his hands over his head.

“What are you doing?” I ask and before he can answer I figure it out, “Are you doing jumping jacks?”

“Yeah!” he says, still jumping and clapping, “Annabelle did jumping jacks with me today!”

“Well, you’re doing a great job, buddy,” I turn back to the counter and Jonas is soon right next to me asking to help make dinner. I give him the job of very carefully mixing the dry ingredients together and adding the baking powder and salt, saying “stir very gently” to make sure he doesn’t go crazy and send the flour flying. After I add the wet ingredients I take over and start virgorously stirring and get admonished:

“Mommy! You have to be bery careful,” he says in a gentle tone, “Be bery gentle.”

I comply and then ask him to set the table while I cook up the pancakes.

“There are clean plates in the dishwasher,” I tell him, “Just put four of them on the table.” He does just that and then puts a fork next to each plate.  As I’m flipping the veggie bacon and monitoring the pancakes I hear some clattering and turn around to see Jonas playing with some knives.

“Oh, nonono, honey,” I take the knives away, “Don’t touch the knives, ok? They’re very sharp.”

“Ok, mommy,” he says, and grabs another knife.

“No, Jonas, I just said, don’t touch the knives.”

“Oh, sorry, mommy.”

After scanning the clean silverware and removing the remaining sharp knives, I go back to cooking.  Next to me, the silverware drawer opens and a little hands comes into my peripheral holding a spoon. I look at Jonas and he’s putting the silverware away.

“Buddy, are you putting the silverware away?” I ask.

“Yup!”

“Well, thank you, sweetie!”

After the silverware is put away (he stopped once to very carefully hand me a butter knife and ask me to put it away for him), he puts the clean pots away, hugs my legs and says, “I wuv you, mommy.”

“I wuv you, too, Jojo,” I smile and hug him back, “Thank you for putting the dishes away. That was very nice of you.”

“You’re welcome, mommy!” And he goes back to doing his jumping jacks.

*******************************************************************************

This morning I asked both of the kids to go put their shoes on, assuming Jonas would bring me his shoes and ask me to put them on, like usual. Instead, he comes to my bedroom with his shoes on.

“Dude!” I exclaim, “Did you put your shoes on? All by yourself?”

“Yeah!” he beams and stomps his feet to make his shoes light up.

“Dude!” I kneel down and hug him, “You even got them on the right feet. I didn’t know you could do that! Good job!”

He runs back to the garage door to finish getting his gear on. Soon I hear the kids arguing about something. No yelling, just discussing something. I’m in Jonas’ room turning off his nightlights and hear:

“Don’t call me Jojo, I don’t wike that.”

“You don’t like Jojo?”

“No, my name is Jonas Matthew Bingmar.”

Then I step in, “Jonas, I’ve been calling you Jojo since you were a baby and I’m not going to stop anytime soon. Sorry, buddy.”

Jaden says she likes to call him Jojo. I walk into the kitchen to find Jaden sitting on the floor tying her shoes and Jonas kneeling beside her with his arms around her telling her she can call him Jojo if she wants to and he’s sorry he made her sad. Jaden smiles and kisses her brother and I try not to cry.

Damn. I couldn’t ask for anything more, could I?

[INSERT “BEFORE” PICTURE I SHOULD’VE TAKEN WITH MY PHONE BUT DIDN’T BECAUSE I SUCK]

This past weekend, however, my husband decided it was time to get the boy’s hair shorn again, due to some super gross cradle cap that won’t go away. He figured maybe the shorter cut would enable us to better attack The Gross with Tea Tree oil and expensive spray leave-in conditioner from the fancy pants kid salon. Plus, the kid’s been asking for a haircut for a while so I figure, y’know, it’s his hair. And really it’s par for the course with this kid and his needing to have a say in how he looks ways.

Matt: “Is that kid haircutting place over by Kid’s Rack?”

Me: “Yeah, why? Are you taking him in?”

Matt: (casually) “Yeah, maybe, I was thinking about it.”

Me: “Are you going to go short?”

Matt: “Oh yeah. Really short.”

Me: (uneasy) “Ok….”

Matt: “Hey, Jonas! You want to go get your hair cut today?”

Jonas: “YAY!!!!!” (much jumping up and down and running around) “I’m go get my haircut! YAY! I going to [preschool gibberish]!!”

Matt: (looks at me)

Me: “I’m going to sit in the fire truck and ring the bell.”

Matt: “Oh! OK. Well, let’s go buddy.”

Jonas insisted on bringing Squeaky Turtle along, wearing his Toy Story sneakers (with flashing lights!), and his golfer’s cap.

40 minutes or so later, the boys came home and I squealed and almost cried. “OH! LOOK AT YOU!! OH! YOU’RE SO HANDSOME! OH! IT’S SO SHORT!”

As you can see, it’s quite short but he wears it well. He looks so grown up now. Both kids have hit a growth spurt over the past month and they need to just stop it right now.

****************************************************************

Saturday, I woke up from my nap and heard Matt saying, “Don’t just lick the peanut butter off, Jaden.” And Jaden responding, “I know.”

WELL.

That evening I went into the freezer to get some ice and found this:

It would appear the knowledge is one thing and actions are a completely different matter.

************************************************************

Sunday we took the kids to the “dollar theater” –so called because it used to cost a dollar, now it’s $3 or $2.50 for matinees—and saw “Puss in Boots”. I would recommend it. Very cute and it stars Antonio Banderas and Selma Hayek who are both just awesome. When we got home the kids asked to play outside and seeing as it’s been 40 degrees in JANUARY in MINNESOTA, we said sure and off they ran. Five minutes later, Matt threw open the patio door and yelled, “HEY! PUT YOUR COATS ON!” and then went out to lecture them:

“Just because it’s unseasonably warm, doesn’t mean you don’t have to wear your coats outside.”

Indistinct protest

“If you get warm, come inside!”

And I laughed a lot.

I love that man.

I’m back on the “calorie counting” kick in order to make sure I’m getting enough and gaining some weight. My goal is 10 pounds. I don’t care when I hit it, as long as I hit it. Yesterday I made a big mistake: for lunch I had a very yummy spinach salad followed by a medium sized Culver’s Oreo Concrete Mixer. While I knew that the mixer would help with the calories, I didn’t realize how much: 838 calories!! Needless to say I felt a little sick, both from the knowledge and from the actual “food”.

Last night saw me not feeling very well, sitting on one end of the couch reading comics on my nook while my children sat on the other end playing their DS and Mobigo (Oh, the evils of electronic entertainment!). Soon, I was rather drowsy and fell asleep. Jerking myself awake I asked the kids if they’d like to play their games in my room while I dosed. They jumped at the idea and we got all cozy in my bed with Jonas on my left and Jaden on my right. Of course, the 5-10 minutes I’d “slept” on the couch was just enough to re-energize me and I was no longer sleepy. I started reading again and the kids put down their games and asked me to read my comics to them. Feeling the need to educated my children on the fine art of vintage x-men comics via modern technology, I modulated my voice up and down in order to capture all the nuances of Magneto, Professor X, The Beast, Jean Grey, Iceman, The Angel, and Cyclops. Jaden was soon snoring next to me but Jonas wanted more and more until he, too, fell asleep and I was surrounded by two snoring, sweating children.

After prepping their rooms by turning on nightlights and fans,  I put both kids in their own beds, kissed them each good night and went back to my room to watch X-men cartoons on Netflix with Matt.

I’ve had worse Friday nights.

Right now it’s 11:35am on Saturday morning.  Already Jaden’s grumbled about doing her homework, Jonas fell off the couch and hit his elbow on the corner of the coffee table, I’ve picked up countless scraps of who knows what all over the house, and created the menu and grocery list for the week. Now Jonas is watching Toy Story 2 with his new Woody and Buzz dolls, Matt’s teaching Jaden how to play Chess, and we’re all still in our jammies. Later Jaden and I are going to do our nails, Jonas and I will take a nap, we’ll all play something together and end the day with dinner and Pirates of the Caribbean.

I’ve also had much worse Saturdays.