We all seem to have Myspace, Facebook, or a blog. I get hits on each daily. Yet no one seems to post anything to say that they're reading. I'm not sure that they're strangers just lurking or people I know reading b/c they're interested or reading b/c they're nosey or maybe a little of both. I don't write these for people to read necessarily, I just write them to write. I know that there are a few that read them b/c the post other places that I am a part of to comment on something I said in here. There's no real point to this, just thoughts.
So as we all know, the Superbowl was Sunday. Well, you could say that I was the referee yesterday of the Superbowl of fighting/bickering and whining inthis house. And I do have to say I came out the winner if only by default since I chose their bedtime and that in and of itself was a mini victory. Grace decided that 4 something was a great time to start the day yesterday. Lovely. I plopped her down on the couch and turned the tv on and promptly tried to go back to sleep in between bouts of having my eyelids pulled open and being poked listening to "Mama, are you sleeping?" Mama wake up." She won that fight. As for all the 'no tv for kids' advocates. Pish Tosh. When a little bit of tv will help a sleep deprived mother of 2 gain a little more shut eye, my motto "turn on the tube". Go ahead, flame me. I don't care.
As 7 approached, Evan decided to get up. I thought this might actually be a good thing. It would give her something to do that didn't include yelling at me since I had turned the tv off at about 6 and gave in to the 'mama get up' lecture I had been getting since 4ish. Yes, for all of you mathameticians, I let her watch tv from 4 something until close to 6...almost 2 hours, in a row!! I guess I let her IQ drop a few points yesterday. Bad Mommy.
Well, I was wrong. I spent the remainder of the day guarding Evan from being pushed, slapped, smacked, and having his head smashed into the carpet or hardwood floor by his oh so adoring sister who wouldn't let him play with anything except maybe a piece of stale goldfish or cheerio that he happened to find lurking somewhere under something that I apparently forgot to clean.
Evan is finding that pound for pound, he's pretty close to her size so when she tries to edge him away from the playtable, he squats down a little, plants his feet, and puts some shoulder behind it and stands firm. There are going to be some major battles as soon as he decides to walk. (Which i'm hoping will be any day now. ) Grace doesn't know what she's in for!