Three little psychopaths

So I hate blogging. It isn't obvious or anything, being that I post twice a year and even then the posts are pretty pathetic, but so be it. Bottom line is that there have been dramatic changes in the last three months since I last posted and I demand that the five people that read this be notified. Get ready.

These three pictures are just of life in Ithaca. It is pretty much wet every day all day and with two boys who live to throw rocks in water, things could not be better. We have these deep puddles that my kids use as their own personal swimming pools. Hey. Funny story. Remember how we don't have a washer and dryer? Yeah... it's pretty amazing doing all that laundry.

Rip, Drew and Graham. I will miss these guys this summer...

Rippy and Chet. Swimming Ithaca style.

The boys looking at the horses that are near our apartment. I mentioned missing Graham. His family is moving (they selfishly are graduating) and I might go into depression about it. Graham and Rippy are pretty good buddies and pretty dang cute together. Rip would wake up from his naps and look out his window searching for 'Gwammy.' More than that though, I will miss Lindsey. A lot. And I might miss this baby horse that is pretty much the cutest thing I've ever seen.

Oh yeah. And I went to Hawaii on an all-girls trip with my mom and sisters and sisters-in-law. It was basically amazing. And look! Me and Nat are pregnant together again! She had Sam when I had Rip. Only difference? I had Chet in between. Sort of funny except that it isn't really at all. And yes, I am aware that these pictures are about as lame as possible but just see how warm it is and without any children it is? It seriously was sooooo amazing. I mentioned that kids were not invited, right? Right. So there were not any kids and we woke up when we wanted and ate meals uninterrupted and pretty much pretended we were normal women. *sigh*

Nat looks pretty hot.

I know there are better pictures out there but I am way too unmotivated to try and make my blog look like I care about taking pictures. Here are the originals. I really do love the girls in my family.

Oh. And we moved to Seattle for the summer for an internship with Amazon. We will go back to Ithaca a week or two before I am due so Josh can finish his second year and I can have the baby. Still haven't checked with the airlines if they will allow me to fly... just crossing my fingers that my doctor's note that says I am okay to fly up to my due date holds. We shall see. Although I doubt too many people are going to dare to hassel me at that point. 

Here is a picture of a troll that some artist sculpted under a freeway pass. The boys were terrified of it. Except as we were leaving Rip started crying because he wanted to climb the troll. "I want to cwime the giant! Cwime the giant please!" A little too late, Rip. Now that I am retelling the story, I'm realizing how bizarre it all sounds. Don't worry about it. 

And this is a glimpse of our apartment in Seattle. Yeah, its a slight step up from our communal living in Ithaca. I keep thinking, but where is the faux brick walls? I will miss those.

Oh. And we bought a new car. We bought a 2012 Honda Pilot and may I just say that I could not be more in love with a car. It is amazing. The reason for the new car really starts with the realization that we can't fit 3 carseats in our little civic. So we debated all our options (none of which were really that good considering we would have income for 3 months and the go back to school full-time), and really decided that we were going to get what we wanted now rather than getting something to get by for a few years and then selling and buying what we wanted. It probably doesn't make the most sense but we could not be happier. Seriously. Oh. And we can fit 3 carseats straight across so really, how can things go wrong? Right. The fact that we have 3 kids in carseats seems wrong.

And that's about it. Except that we found out months ago that we are having yet another boy. Yes people. Three boys. I have gone up and down about this, but mostly I am good with it. I was thinking it might be nice to have a girl, and I still think that, but it might not be fair to her to have to grow up right next to two psychopaths. Except that Rip is getting less psychopathic while Chet is showing his true psychopath potential. So really she would have had to grow up with one complete psychopath and one semi-psychopath. Now we'll just have a third psychopath. Chet will eat him alive.

Until next year.

Oh yes. This is happening.

So I am really behind in updating. Christmas came and left, New Years, even Valentine's Day (believe it or not, I actually love Valentine's Day) has come and gone without a post. And believe me, I'll get there. I'll post all the incredible pictures of Christmas, Disneyland (we went to Disneyland, well, me and Rip went. More to explain on that later..), and much much more. But for now, I will share the news. Wait. Here is a small glimpse of Disneyland. Too bad I was sick the whole time..

The bottom line is that I am pregnant. Again.  Planned? Hell no. In fact, for the first month or two I was sort of in a combination of denial/depression. One minute I was planning a massive murder/suicide and the next I was pretending that this wasn't even my life. Just some sad, pathetic woman who I knew who happens to be 15 weeks pregnant.

But I've come out of all that and have faced acceptance. Yes. This is happening. I will have a baby right as Rip turns 3,19 months apart from Chet, who is 16 months apart from Rip. Three kids in three years. If you are wanting to vomit, know this, it doesn't help. And if you are considering calling Child Protective Services,  know this also, it doesn't help; I've already tried and they are not interested in adopting all three of my kids. Something about there being too many too fast?

So. Here I stand with 500 baby/toddlers, one of which is trying to plug the vacuum into my computer at the moment. I am sort of done with this stage, and yet, I just keep starting over. Remember how I have made it very clear that I don't do babies? That is putting it politely. I do not like the baby stage (also put mildly..). In fact, I saw a friend's new baby and I got slightly sick to my stomach thinking of holding that baby.

That is where things are at. I am anti-baby and am basically reproducing at rabbit rates. Pray for us. Pray for Chet for he is soulless. Pray for Rip that he doesn't end up going to jail for killing Chet one day, and pray for me that I don't kill all of us. Oh yeah. And pray for Josh too, but he's not really a factor in all this because he spends his entire life somewhere on Cornell's campus. Smart man. I wish I was going to pretend school so I could hide from the babies that are multiplying in our tiny apartment.

Do you have a 2 year old? I'm sorry.

I was talking with my mom and complaining about the sheer evil that is inhabiting my 2 year old and she responded that I was in good company. My sister's 2 year old has a similar list of evil-doing, and after talking with another friend with a 2 year old, she reported much the same behavior. Bottom line? Two-year olds are nasty. You may be convinced your adorable 1 year old would never and I am here to tell you that he would. And will. When he turns 2 that is.

So I've compiled a list in order to help anyone who might be wondering if they either have a 2 year old or some horrible demon from the underworld. Probably a 2 year old. Sorry.

You know you have a 2 year old when...

• The phrase 'Get down' is undoubtedly the first words to every sentence.
• Getting out of the shower is something like a horror film. The suspense of finding out what he/she has been doing while you've been pretending he/she is away at college is terrifying. And you are sincerely relieved to find that he/she has only lit half of the house on fire. Hey. It could have been the whole house. He/she must have been tired.
• Someone tells you, "It could be worse," and you think to yourself, "But could it? Really?"
• You wonder if you're the only one raising a soulless underling
• During one of his/her bolts from the store/car/wherever you think, "Maybe someone will pick him/her up. Maybe someone nice who doesn't mind tending a power-hungry, opinionated little monster who generally thrives on chaos." Maybe. But you generally don't have that kind of luck.
• Potty training is a source of constant confusion. Is he/she ready? What does 'ready' look like? Will he/she just one day inform me that he/she is ready to stop pooping on themselves? So confusing...
• You spend most the day fantasizing about boarding school. For you.
• Your house looks like a tornado on crack was there.
• Your neighbors below you complain of earthquakes. Nope. That's just your 2 year old jumping off of everything and then laughing manically when he nearly breaks his ankle.
• Going to the grocery store alone is some kind of spa retreat. There are no commands of "This way! This way mama!" pointing in the direction of the donuts the entire time. And definitely no apologies once he/she throws his sucker stick at some random shopper's head.

So yes, I most definitely have a 2 year old. 

Uh Yeah

Alright. Here goes a major picture narration. And if you're basically in disbelief due to the back-to-back blog posts, don't worry. It won't happen again. And if you really don't care about seeing 500 pictures of me and my family, skip this post. This one is for the sisters and mom.

Here is Halloween. I did not go as anything, Josh was some guy with a mullet, Rip was a dragon/dinosaur/we still don't know, and Chet was a monkey. We went trick or treating with some friends. Check out Rapunzel!

 Here are the kids making Halloween cookies. Really I just love that Chet is sitting on the table like he belongs there. I worship him.

 And here are my boys before church. I basically was going ballistic on how cute the boys looked in their sweaters with a collared shirt coming out. Seriously. Josh was like, "Then just take a freaking picture and stop!" So I did. Take a picture. Still didn't stop me though.

 Here are Graham, Drew, and Rip watching Yo Gabba Gabba. I love these boys. But I might love their moms more. Sara and LIndsey are the bomb.

 This is at a park a short walk from our house. Really, the fall was so beautiful. Note that I said 'was?' Fall is over. Winter is here.

 This is just a glimpse of Rip's spatula obsession. He calls his spatula 'pancake.'

 PANCAKE!!!

We went to Buttermilk Falls the other day on a hike. It was spectacular but pretty dang cold. Please don't take offense by my lack of makeup. I look scary, I know. But I'm at a point in my life where I don't really care. Not really .I still care.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving and since we live in outer darkness and it costs at least $400,000 to fly home, we are staying here. But I'm actually excited because we're going to do it with a few other couples and we're doing it all ourselves. Like real adults!

The worst blogger? Nah...

Josh told me yesterday that I am the worst blogger in the world. Now, pretty sure I fall in the bottom 5% but the worst? Come on...

So an update. Here it is. Rip is insane (not much of an update, but rather a reminder...), and Chet is very likely a genius. Seriously. I feel I have a pretty realistic grasp on my kids and their abilities, and Chet is honestly brilliant. He was trying to put a piece of toast on his spoon! Amazing! Doesn't sound like much now, but you would have been flabbergasted had you been there. Obviously. But really, I hate to sound cliche but Chet is so much fun right now. I forgot how much I liked this age (10 months). He's just so pleasant and he accepts most of Rip's abuse without too much complaining. We love him. He has started taking steps and eats well, sleeps well, and is snuggly. Chet is our rock star.

Rip, on the other hand, is clinically insane. He spends most of his day using a spatula to do one of two things. He is either using it as a sword and shouting 'Pancakes!' at me, or he is shoving the spatula in Chet's face screaming, 'Two bites!' or 'Mo bite Keck!' Apparently me forcing Rip to take 'two more bites' on occasion (every meal) has scarred him and he is transferring his frustration onto Chet.  This is what Rip is taking from his childhood. Hmph. Yes, food is still an issue with Rip. He generally sticks to his basic food groups of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, cold cereal, and yogurt. Oh. Toast. Can't forget toast. So feeding Rip is still the bane of my existence.

Also worth noting, Rip is obsessed with the movie Spirit. It's the Disney horse one (Thanks, Lindsey for letting us borrow this)? Yeah, so he has been waking up early and coming in our room at 6:30 asking for 'Mo neigh show?' When I say 'asking' I really mean he is demanding vehemently. He has watched it at least 4000 times just today. I think I am starting to like the show. If you've never seen it, it's definitely a must-see. It gets better by the 5 billionth time. Can't wait for tomorrow's showing.

Josh has been busy busy, which is really just a cutesy way of saying I hardly see him and the boys are starting to look at the produce guy at the grocery store as a father figure. I usually am okay with it, being that it gives me ample time to watch Say Yes to the Dress, but being that I have already watched all 86 episodes available on Netflix, I'm sort of sad right now about his absence. The only thing that helping with flying solo is that I don't have to make dinner. Rip doesn't eat anything I make anyway (except the aforementioned token 'two bites'), so we eat pancakes for dinner when Josh won't be home. We eat a lot of pancakes.

That about wraps up this random blabber. I'll post some pictures next time. Probably Halloween costumes or something original. Stay tuned.

Yearly Update

Okay, okay, settle down. I was texting my sister-in-law and she replied that she hardly knew me anymore and that it was time I updated my blog. Fair enough. I will try to recap some of the events of the past month or two.

First off, my parents came to see us. It was amazing. Needless to say, I was pretty depressed to see them go. I should have taken more pictures, but considering I took any at all is a miracle in and of itself. Here we are at Taughanock Falls. My dad carried Chet in the backpack. It was pretty adorable.

We took my parents to see Cornell's campus, which really is beautiful. This is the only picture we took there. Again, it sort of is amazing that I got even one, so...

Here we are on a family hike. We are so active. Probably the only picture you'll see of Chet not in the bjorn. Hey, he likes it so I like it.

 We actually like Chet a lot more than Rip right now, but we seem to be taking only pictures of Rip. I"ll explain that it a bit.

 Rip likes to dress in my clothes. No, he is most definitely not normal. Never claimed he was though.

This is Sapsucker Woods, the woods right in front of our apartment. Let me just say that they are incredible right now. So beautiful. I take the boys in them a couple times a week. So pretty. This was a few days after a lot of rain.

 And then a few weeks ago we went to some sound maze. I'm not going to explain it other than Rip did not quite grasp the idea of following the paths. He liked best walking straight through the corn. Uh, he's 2 remember?

So basically here is the update. Rip turned two, waited a month or two, and then decided he was going to transform into what we call, 'El Diablo.' He is a monster. He isn't the worst two year old in the world, but he most definitely has a mind of his own and that mind is usually working overtime to prove how independent he is. Josh usually is wondering if we should discipline him more. I say yes.

We do catch glimpses of our old Rip right before bed when he is so snuggly and we can maul him to death. I love mauling the kids. Anyway, he allows it before he goes to bed and even asks for 'mo kisses' at times, which usually means I forget about the fact that he is sheer evil. He is still pretty hilarious, albeit insane.

Chet, on the other hand, is without a doubt the cutest baby in the entire universe (and that says a lot considering I typically don't like babies that much). Talk about good natured. Maybe I just compare him to El Diablo (Rip), but he is so pleasant now. He had a rough go, but once I stopped nursing and put him on soy formula, he morphed into such a happy baby, even when Rip is wrestling him (i.e. every hour of the day). He even seems to like the wrestling, to a certain point. He loves Rip and has even started acknowledging Josh (he pretty much couldn't stand the sight of Josh until a month ago). Imagine! It is soooooo nice having a kid who will eat. So nice.

So Chet is awesome, Rip is a demon, and Josh is at school A LOT. That about sums up our lives. Now here is a video of the good child and the bad child. Take a guess of who is who.

Old enough for a minivan

Let me just start by saying that I hate those stupid secret questions you have to answer when trying to retrieve a forgotten password. I've been trying to hack into my own AT&T account and see what my current text messaging balance is (I got a text from AT&T telling me I was at least $20 over... not good), but I have no clue what my password is. So I've spent the last hour trying to figure out what famous person I would most like to meet, living or dead. Uhh... it seems like the secret question is a little too secret since I have no freaking clue and it's my secret question. I've literally put down every variation of Jerry Seinfeld I can think of and from there I'm plum out of ideas.

But that's beside the point (is there ever really a point?). I was talking to a bunch of ladies in the complex (our complex is considered the Wymount of Ithaca; scary), and they were all commenting on how Suzy (not the real name; I am protecting people's identity here) has the most amazing minivan (I really need to stop using these parenthesis to make side comments). They were lamenting on how Suzy's minivan has cameras in the back and tvs in the front and yadayadayada. What is so disheartening about all this is not that Suzy has a camera and a tv and I have a civic that barely holds two carseats, but that I have reached an age where a 'cool' minivan deserves the envying of my friends. I'm that old. Minivans! Imagine! I remember playing MASH as a kid and inevitably the car that was undesirable was either a garbage truck (which would actually be sort of cool... damn these parentheses!) or a minivan. Now look at me. Drooling over Suzy's van because it can fit a big stroller plus all your groceries plus the strangely huge umbrella I seem to be lugging around! Such luxury.

And it gets worse. It really hit me I was old when I was talking to all the ladies and someone mentioned bunions, which naturally led to comparing and contrasting bunions. I am fortunate to not have any bunions, but the fact that it did not strike me as strange or frightening that these women were comparing bunion surgery scars, leads  me to believe I am no longer 26, but 86. Put me in a home now, because I'm looking longingly at minivans and thinking about the recovery time of a bunion surgery. I am old.