This was another one of those days. You know, a day when it's hard to determine if it was a success or a failure.
Success:
Car licensed for the next two years
Daisy weighs 11 pounds, 4 ounces!
Caleb was funny and Daisy was cheerful
Dinner was crock-pot-o-riffic
Failure:
2 trips to the DMV to successfully license the car
45 minutes in the car to get Daisy's weight, and Babymoon was out of the item that justified the trip
Caleb had several meltdowns, including one involving hitting me and a timeout
Chris got home an hour late, so it was a great thing that dinner was in the slow cooker
Chris' 30th birthday is tomorrow, and I have nothing for him. Not even a cake.
My head hurts
See what I mean? I think my headache means today falls into the failure category. Or maybe I should just create a third category: Meh.
I think I like that solution best.
Here are my cute kids.
Daisy wore a really cute new outfit from her Grandmother today. It was awesome, until she had a poopy diaper and I somehow managed to smear the poop on the outfit. See? Failure day.
But Daisy was cheerful and content all day. And did I mention the 11 pounds, 4 ounces part? Yay, Daisy!
Caleb is a bargain shopper who is always prepared for rain. He's just that kind of a guy.
This is Caleb's home-made "rescue pack".
Thanks to GREAT Aunt Maggie, Caleb is obsessed with Diego. And Diego has an orange backpack named Rescue Pack, which has its own snazzy little jingle. And Caleb LOVES it.
So today, Caleb happened upon a soft, clear plastic box that a gift had come in. He held it up to me, gave me this sorrowful look, and said, "Wear it ON back?"
How could I say no? I had to find a way for him to wear it on his back! All of my mom-cred hinged on this moment.
I switched into Mom-MacGyver mode, and the wheels started turning in my head. I grabbed a length of ribbon and my stapler and... voila! A rescue pack!
He immediately put his toy camera inside (Diego has a camera named Click) and walked (very carefully) all over the living room. I say it's a pretty passable rescue pack, and he was pleased. Too bad it doesn't sing the snazzy jingle!
So we'll end on a success, and not talk about the tantrums. OK?
You know that every two-year-old in the history of the world has thrown tantrums, right? And that handling the tantrums now is not a failure, but the first steps in creating the success of having an eight-year-old who does not throw tantrums? I know you know this. Just thought I'd remind you. :)
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