A valentines weekend to remember.

 

 

 

 

May I start by saying my hubby was awesome and got me a beautiful necklace with our son’s birthstone. With that said, I’ve decided that once you hit that age between “our sweet baby”, and “thank God we don’t have to pay daycare anymore”, you have the death point of romantic valentines alone. Now there are a few exceptions for this, however it’s not us.

To paint a picture of how valentines went for my home, let me start by saying hubby’s Grandma turned 80 on valentine’s days, and my sister in-law had her birthday the day after. So Saturday we met up with the entire Wolther clan, and then went to a nice dinner for Grandma’s birthday. I was impressed; normally my father in-law tries to do this on her birthday. Now in years past we’ve gone, and felt incredibly guilty for invading a nice restaurant on valentines with a table full of under 5. This year, we went Saturday, but still it was a table of 22, and 7 were 6 and under. 4 of which NEVER eat out. Kudos to hubby for getting us there a few minutes before the other parents. We were able to get the end of the table with the adults, handed our son my cell phone to play games, and not a peep from our crew. I do have to admit though, past experience had me very concerned with this dinner, and may have even encouraged a few pre-funk drinks and one as soon as I was seated at the table. The kids were all great! I was shocked!!!! No screaming tantrums, no yelling, no fighting, I was impressed. I know that was partly due to the staff, we warned beforehand. They were prepared with actual coloring books and crayons. Good coloring books too. I think there was strawberry shortcake, ninja turtles, dinosaurs, and bubble guppies or something. It kept the kids happy and quiet.

After dinner we took my brother in-laws kids so he could spoil his wife for her birthday. I have one son, that’s it. I more or less fall into the “where’s your mommy” aspect of caring for other’s kids. So you can imagine taking on their two kids had me a bit nervous. Hubby would be home though, and no way was he ditching me. We had an agreement. Now keep in mind, they have always been awesome about being willing to watch our son especially for short notice, our daycare lady is sick type days. So obviously I was more than willing to return the favor, just nervous. Plus they have a girl. A girl I usually keep preoccupied letting her examine whatever necklace and rings I happen to be wearing. That only works for so long.

Anyway, I made a deal with Hubby, if he would be DD for dinner, I’d take on the kid stuff once we got back to the house. PJs, story time, “hey stay in bed”, the works. Seemed like a great plan. For Christmas I made our son a giant tent fire station, so I agreed the kids could camp out in the fire station in the living room as long as they were good and went to sleep. Yeah, fire station did not last long. The girl was kicked out 1st, couldn’t stay on her own side & leave the boys alone. My son was evicted next, couldn’t handle not talking. The last one made it all of 2 minutes and he was kicked out too. So now I had, a little girl in the recliner, my son in his bed, and my nephew on the couch. I felt like the hall monitor pacing the house making sure no one was up running around. I made it to bed about 930. Seemed pretty good to me, until I couldn’t sleep. I think I was too concerned about someone getting up and getting into something, mainly little missy as she has food allergies out the ying yang, and last thing I needed was a sick little girl that’s barely potty trained.

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So 6 am rolls around and tada! Everyones awake. Good Morning! In all fairness I planned to get up around then anyway. My father in-law was bringing my hubby’s uncle and aunt over to see our new house, and that man doesn’t understand the idea of acceptable morning hours. I have found him at my house before 5am more times than I’d like to remember. The most recent of which my grandma was sleeping in my living room and he let 2 dogs run around all crazy on hard wood floor, but I digress.

So anyway, we’re up, figuring out a milk free, gluten free, diabetic appropriate, and kid friendly breakfast. Blah! But I’m going, “I got this”. And I did. Hubby took care of dishes, while I made scrambled eggs, sausage patties, and bananas. I even thought about taking a picture to prove we rocked it. I decided that may be a bit much. The day actually went pretty good, even managed to get 2 down for rest, and a certain little girl to nap! Who-Rah! Now I will admit, I have not dealt with the newly potty trained in a couple years, so I forgot to keep asking her if she needed to go potty, or ask her to try. Should have, because pretty soon hubby asks me if she always changes her clothes that much, and why she felt the need to take off her panties in the living room. Hint hint, take care of girly problems wifey. I rush in, turns out she copped a squat on our chair hovering over the crack between chair and ottoman, and I now had a wet mess to clean up. Her mom was awesome enough to send a couple outfits, so between that, towels, and carpet cleaner, we were good.

In the end, I may have had toys everywhere, marbles in a humidifier, a blanket on my French doors blocking out sun, and a fire station in my living room, but I learned that I have a pretty awesome hubby who helped me keep my sanity, and I’m probably not equipped for twins.

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