All I want for Christmas...

are potty-trained children. Or a nanny.

In my defense, I have bronchitis and am completely exhausted. Plus Nick had pre-school this morning, so we had to get up and get moving, instead of getting some extra rest.

On the bright side, no one will ever again question my petnames of "Chaos" and "Mayhem" any longer.

And yes, I did indeed first go grab the camera to take pictures and then took the powder away from Mayhem.

xoxo

Deb

November 09 wrap up

It's been an incredibly busy couple of weeks. For Mom and Dad. Chaos and Mayhem have been their usual helpful selves, doing what they do best to assist us...

Recently we celebrated Thanksgiving at Jason's parents home with Mommom Schenk and Uncle Mike. Uncle Mike kept the kids entertained, while Jason helped out Lane with dinner. Since there was nothing I could do to help anyone, I kept Stephen company and watched football. All day. Which made for an exceptionally happy Debbie.

Our dear friends from Mississippi (Joe, Maggie and Chloe) came North for a visit. Maggie and I dumped the kids on the boys and escaped to the Mall for a couple of hours... again, more happiness for the Deb.

Joe, Maggie and Chloe stayed with Joe's sister, Becky, another dear friend. Becky and her husband, Kamar, are Bree's godparents and the parents of Layla and Sophia. During the Mississippi invasion, we celebrated Sophia's first birthday. Bree especially enjoyed the Becky-homemade-cupcakes. Anyone who knows Becky will understand why the fact that she made cupcakes gets a special mention.

xoxo

Deb

Pumpkins and the Abby's

A couple of weeks ago, I woke up on a Monday morning to the sun streaming through the bedroom window. Now, for a normal person, this would be cause for happiness. Not so for a Debbie. You see, it had been raining for days. And days. And more days. Our backyard wasn't so much a yard anymore. It was a mudpit. A large, wet, leaf-filled, mud pit. And I had foolishly promised Chaos & Mayhem that we could go outside and play as soon as it stopped raining. Damn you, Mother Nature! What's a Mom to do?


Simple, call a better Mother. So I called Aunt Julie. Her kids had a couple of days off of school. She suggested that we pack up the kids (my two and her four) and head over to Milburn Orchards.

Nick spent the trip over explaining to Bree that we were going to go "look at pumpkins with our cousins." Bree, at two has a fairly limited vocabulary, despite Nick's constant efforts to expand her repertoire. She couldn't grasp the word "cousins" so Nick told her their names over and over and over and... you get the picture. Apparently the only name that she could handle was Abby. So, now Bree calls all of her cousins "Abby." I'm not sure but I suspect that Aunt Julie and Uncle Aaron are also "Abby's" in BreeLand. It doesn't mean that she doesn't love Alex, Amanda and Aidan. It just means she can't say their names. She can't say Nick either, just calls him "Brovur," which is Bree-speak for "brother."
Anyway, we got to the orchard, met up with the Abby's, saw a lot of pumpkins, some seriously cute baby goats, a couple of huge pigs, a cow and walked all over the place. Nick and the youngest of the Abby’s, Aidan, tried to see who could say the word “playground” the most. I think they tied at 4,622 "playground" requests each. Julie and I each took tons of pictures of the kids and will be dragging the Dad's with us next time

xoxo

Deb

Mommy's Day Out

On many an occasion, Jason has suggested that I go out for a little while to get some time to myself. Recently however, he was forced to take matters into his own hands and essentially kick me out of the house for a Saturday. His reasons for doing so are as follows:

• He came upon me putting the following phrases into Google "boarding", "preschool" and "Switzerland."


• While I was on the phone, he overheard me gleefully refer to bathing the children as "Mommy water-boarding."


• Coming into the house after work and being greeted by his wife holding a Disney Princess sippy cup in one hand and a bottle of Jack Daniel's in the other. Oh, relax, it was for me. I was too tired to empty the dishwasher and the kid's cups were the only ones that were clean.
  

There were many, many, many, many, many other manifestations indicating that Mommy needed a time out. And to be honest, I was giddy. In the days leading up to my "day off" I was daydreaming about not being directly responsible for my children's survival for a couple of hours.

The glorious day finally arrived. I hurried through breakfast, kissed the kids and then literally pitched them to their father as I raced out to the car. Honestly, the tires squealed in the driveway as I threw the car into reverse and them slammed it into drive.

Now, I love my husband. Jason is the moon, the stars, the sun and everything else in the world beneath them to me. He's an excellent father. Often, he's a much better parent than I can ever hope to be. That being said, I had no problems sacrificing him to our children for the sake of my sanity and hoped that our homeowner's insurance would cover whatever destruction they had wrought while I was wandering around Borders. I figured Jason would play it safe, put in the "Bee Movie" (Nick's latest theatrical obsession) and change a couple of diapers. My theory was that the kids would be bored out of their minds and be so thankful that Mommy had returned that they'd be perfect angels for a few days, so happy to have me back.

Oh no, not my Jason. No copping out with the TV for his little babies.

My darling little cherubs now get all the way to about 11:30am before they start demanding to know when "Daddy is coming home so we can have fun."

I'm going back to Borders.

xoxo

Deb

Happy Birthday Bree!

My baby is two. It's absolutely killing me. I LOVE saying her age in months. Now it just sounds silly. Plus, the terrible two's are beginning. Unfortunately Bree was not adopted and there's only so much you can do about genetics, so she appears to be taking her behavioral cues from her Mommy. Stop here and say a quick prayer for Jason and Nick, if you don't mind.

Anyway, we threw the obligatory Chaos-filled family and friends two-year-old birthday party. Many attended and I think fun was had by all. The pictures from the actual party are pretty bad. Not sure what happened. Jason and I normally do a lot better. Personally I think our photography was fine, it was the subjects that were the problems. That's it. I'll blame the guests for the terrible pictures. You out there know who you are and I expect a full range of thoughtful apologies. Chocolate and flowers always seems to work with me. I recommend electronics for Jason. I can prove that Jason and I ALWAYS take wonderful pictures. Here's what I'm sure is an award-worthy shot of our lovely children the morning after the party.




Aren't they just darling?

xoxo
Deb

Ick.

Nick's sick. Bree's coming down with whatever Nick has.

Therefore they have not done anything cute or brilliant or even mildly entertaining unless you count seeing who can blow the biggest bubbles with their nose cute, brilliant or mildly entertaining.

How I wish I was making that up...


Unfortunately, the pictures do accurately depict how I care for them when they're sick. Now you all understand why Jason works from home as often as he does...

I have to go now. Nick is attempting to use Daisy as a tissue. Seriously.

xoxo

Deb

Picasso, Jr.

As noted in my previous post, Mayhem is clearly an artist in the making. What you may not realize is that Chaos, too, produces stunning artwork. I've attempted to document their creative process, as I'm confident that either the National Gallery in London (my personal fav!) or the Louvre would appreciate the ability to include this in The Tokarski Kids Exhibit (just the working title.)

Here the kids are creating a mural to share with our neighborhood. Note Nick's exuberant two-handed chalk drawling method! Don't worry, it's the side of our own home that they are decorating. To be honest, I'm still confused by Jason's reaction to their artwork. He sighed, there was some eye-rolling and no expressions of delight. Philistine.

Here the kids are attempting to incorporate other elements, like a handtruck, into the mural. Mr. No-fun-guy (AKA Daddy) did not appreciate their creativity and the sighing turned into grumbling.

At some point, the whining, sighing, grumbling, etc., etc., etc., began to interupt the kid's creative process, so we moved their art project indoors. Mr. Killjoy wouldn't allow the kids to run rampant around the house with crayons, markers, stickers and tape so I was forced to stifle their creativity and strap them into their seats. Mr. Stick-in-the-Mud then had me tape the paper to the table so none of their artwork became permanent features.

Nevertheless, the kids persevered with their artwork, despite the dictatorial "stop drawing on each other!" and "Bree! Stop eating the markers!" nature of their father and had a good time.

xoxo

Deb