But . . .

Norah has entered what I think might be the most personally annoying and infuriating stage she has been able to find to date. The "But . . ." stage. And it's a good thing that I don't have any hair left, because I would have torn it all out over the course of this week if I did. It isn't a big deal, I'm sure, but for some reason I would rather go back to changing 30 of the most disgusting diapers imaginable a day than have to endure this stage much longer.

Sadly, there is no way that I could capture this on video to share, so I will have to describe it instead, and I'm sure that, in the end, I will just come out looking like an impatient ass because, really, it just boils down to her making excuses.

This is how it works. Norah does something. She does "something" a lot these days, by which I mean actions that will get her into trouble. She is in what I hope is the peak of her pestering stage right now too. She can't just leave anyone alone. And Gabe especially. Everything he does, she has to be up in his business. Not helping. Not playing along with. But actively disrupting. And often she does things that are just mean. If a bigger kid or a grown up did the things she does, they would likely be labeled a sociopath. It's a little troubling, really.

Here's an example.

Yesterday, Gabe was drawing on the floor. Norah saw him drawing and decided that she needed to be drawing too. There was a tub of markers and ample paper, but she wanted Gabe's marker and Gabe's paper. That is pretty typical, though. She doesn't just want to do what Gabe is doing, she wants what Gabe is using to do what Gabe is doing (until he surrenders it, and then she has no interest in doing it anymore, she just wants to make Gabe give up what he has and what he's doing--see, sociopath!). So Gabe starts to whine. "Norah! No! I'm using that!" I hear it probably three dozen times a day. It might be what is said most often in our household right now.

So, for probably the three dozenth time that day, I went to resolve the issue.  "AAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!" I screamed as I pulled out all of my remaining hair and smashed my head against the wall.

Not really. While I have to admit that my level of cool is dwindling rapidly with all the fighting and whining and bickering that's going on in my house--I have a very low tolerance for conflict--it hasn't gotten to that point yet.

"Norah! Leave Gabe alone!" I chastised. I pulled her out a handful of markers and a sheet of paper and set them on the floor far enough away that she couldn't just lie on her stomach on the floor to work and position herself so she could put her feet on Gabe and kick him while she works (see? mean!). She sized up the space, I could see it, to decide if she could work and something and pester Gabe all at the same time. She couldn't. So she sat down. I turned around and left. Five steps later, Gabe again screamed, "Norah! No! I'm using that!" I quickly spun around, retraced my few steps around the corner, and there was Norah, with a foot in the middle of his sheet of paper. She looked up and me and made eye contact. She knew I was there watching. And SHE TWISTED HER FOOT. Like a melodrama villain might do to a petition to save an orphanage or something.

"Norah! That was so mean!" I lamented. And I knew what was following.

"But . . ." Every time she gets busted for anything, it's the first word out of her mouth. And there is always a pause as she constructs the excuse she's going to use to justify what she is doing.  In this case it was "But . . . I was needing to walk over there," she said, pointing vaguely in my direction. Now, this WAS a feasible excuse. Gabe was directly between where she was and the doorway where I was. However, there was also more than enough room to walk around him and his paper.

"You were twisting your foot to ruin his paper," I pointed out. "That's not walking. Timeout," I added and pointed to the nearby chair. And then she started to cry.

Also the crying. The incessant, needless, constant crying. About everything. All the time.

Ugh, girls.

Anyway, the problem I have with this, and possibly where all the frustration is coming from, is that I really shouldn't have a problem with any of this. As some will recall, I actively encouraged Gabe to make up stories to try to get out of trouble. I WANT my kids to be good story tellers, and trying to get out of trouble is when some of the best stories are born. They are moments of true inspiration. But, for some reason--and maybe it's just because I know she knows better and is doing most of these things just to antagonize Gabe and I, whereas when Gabe does something bad it is almost always due to his basically unobservant nature or because he just didn't think things through--it grates on my nerves when Norah starts with the "But . . . ."

Possibly the worst part is that I have actually had to break out the "But me no buts" to interrupt her, which I still am not sure even makes a lick of sense. Seriously. What does that even mean?

Summer, Birthdays and Slip-n-Slides

It's been a pretty busy week. That's not an excuse for me not getting around to posting an update on here sooner with birthday and such-like pictures. I don't have any good excuse for that. But there's been a lot going on.

First, let me just go ahead and say that future summers are going to be . . . interesting. My kids are only attending school for two mornings a week right now, but I swear to god they are driving me absolutely nuts now that they are home all week. I don't know if its that we all have to see each other just that much more or if they don't have enough outlets for their crazy when they can't get away from me or what, but they are insane. Maybe it's the heat and it's not them it's just bothering me. I don't know, but they aren't even old enough for this to be a thing yet and it's a thing. I can't even imagine, when they're used to having structure and stuff to do five days a week what it will be like trying to keep them occupied for three months. As I said, "interesting" (which I meant euphemistically as "going to suck," in case I was being too subtle).

The kids' birthdays have now come and gone. It's actually pretty sweet having their birthdays almost perfectly spaced at the halfway point to Christmas. Figuring we can start the behavioral blackmail about three months before the event, we can use the "you better be good or you won't get any presents" threat for fully half the year! Pretty wise approach, really. I'd fully recommend trying to plan on a June or July birthday, if at all possible.

Anyway, it was another unnecessarily awesome birthday celebration for our kids. They have to be the most spoiled children anywhere, really. Libby simply does too much for them. She duded up the backyard with an obstacle course that ended with a big pool of water for them to play in. And she baked these two incredible cakes.

Norah's castle cake.

Gabe's Green Ninja from Ninjago cake.

I mean, come on! Each year she seems to outdo herself. Which is all well and good, except how can she possibly continue to do that? And mostly I fear that all of this effort and awesomeness is being wasted anyway since they likely won't remember much of anything from these early birthday parties.

Personally, I believe that children should get maybe two birthday parties in their lives. They should happen when they are old enough to have, say, three friends over to spend the night. They should involve a store-bought cake and ice cream, and that's pretty much it. That's what I got (except for the one trip to Showbiz Pizza) and I turned out fine. Anything more than that is showy and unnecessary.

 The obstacle course.

Naw, I'm just complaining. It was great. The kids had fun. It didn't last long enough for the parents to want to scratch out our eyes. It was great.

The day before his birthday, Gabe decided to mildly disfigure his face. Fortunately, it's not bad enough that you can really notice it unless you're looking. He put a long piece of yarn in his mouth and then pulled it out really fast, like he was trying to start a lawnmower. So he has two stripes of rope burn on his cheeks. Boys sure are dumb. Entertaining as hell, but dumb.

I've decided that the official name for a group of children is an insanity. This is a picture of an insanity of children. And the presents. Dear god, the presents. Again, our children are ridiculously spoiled. They will never value anything because they just keep getting more and more stuff. We are, I'm sure, creating materialistic monsters. But we just can't help ourselves! We want them to have the things they want if we can afford to give it to them (and, with Gabe at least, I want to play with his toys, too).

Eating the cake.

And, most important of all, it's over for another year! Having two kids with their birthdays three days apart is also kind of awesome. Sure it means that Norah pretty much has to open all of her presents on Gabe's actual birthday or she loses her mind with jealousy and then has nothing on her real birthday to do. But, otherwise, it is working out pretty well so far. I imagine things will get more complicated as they get older and have more closely knit groups of their own friends. We might end up doing two separate parties just a few days apart--and if that becomes the case, then having two children with birthdays three days apart is a TERRIBLE idea and nobody else should ever do it.

Finally, the slip-n-slide. One of our friends gave the kids a slip-n-slide for their birthday and we broke it out a couple days ago to give it a try.

To me, the slip-n-slide was always the Phantom Menace of summertime, water-based, fun-time activities. It looks AWESOME. From the pictures on the box and the commercials, it looks like doing a log jam where YOU are the log. You run and you slide on this perfectly lubricated surface, stirring up a wake of awesomeness, until you splash like an extinction-event asteroid hitting the ocean into the pool of water at the end of the slide.

But in reality, the slip-n-slide never even comes close to living up to the hype (thus my Phantom Menace reference). There are almost no spots on the run that are perfectly lubricated. Instead, most of the surface is made up of nipple-erasing bare rubber. The track is also perilously narrow, meaning you have to PERFECTLY aim your approach or end up with the worst kind of grass burns all over your body as you careen helplessly off the edges. And, if you are lucky enough to reach the reservoir of water at the end unscathed, then one of two things happens. Either you get mildly wetter or you shoot right off the end like helpless human torpedo. If you're lucky, all the water you've been running through it has created a mud hole that will at least partially cushion your deceleration. If you're unlucky, say goodbye to the skin on your belly.

The kids, however, love the thing. And unlike the two or three slip-n-slides we've bought them over the past couple years, this one is an ACTUAL slip-n-slide and not some knock-off brand. Which means it's actually somewhat durable. Besides being pretty awful at putting water onto the slide, the cheap ones tend to fall apart whenever they are used by anyone even a little bit. But this one has held up to several uses already, and the kids have not been the least bit gentle.

Anyway, here are some videos. The kids are actually pretty amusing while they use it--and Gabe got this weird catwalk, "sashay" thing going that we have absolutely no explanation for.

 

Gabe, sort of figuring it out.

 

And, apparently, I can't caption a video except the first time when I upload multiples at the same time. Dear Blogger, stop sucking! Anyway, the second video is Norah army crawling her way over the slide, and then we get into the kids just being weird, especially with Gabe's silly walks. The last video I included so everyone could see exactly how "sweet" Norah is most of the time.