When Life Deals You Blueberry Pie... Smear It On Your Mommy's Bed

We are full swing into the terrible two's right now. Actually, most days, Beastie's not that "terrible", just plain naughty. Case and point: I was folding laundry in the dining room about twenty minutes ago and he emerged from his brother's room wearing a fully-satisfied smile. He stopped and looked at me. "What did you do?", I ask him. He runs for it. I investigate into Max's room to find that Miles has torn apart a goody bag from a recent party Max attended. He had about five chocolate coins in there, which looked like a wild animal had torn apart. I mean, there was gold foil and bits of chocolate strewn all over that bedroom. Next, I noticed the package of sugar. You know, the little pack of sugar that comes with a sugar stick to lick and dip, lick and dip, lick and dip... until your child is in a sugar-induced coma. Whoever invented that delightful little treat deserves a nice smack upside the head. I digress. Miles has indeed gotten into THAT as well. I clean everything up, hoping to high heaven that Max doesn't notice that his beloved goodies have been eaten. I go to find the Beast who I still haven't seen since he made his initial gettaway. I find him laying on my bed eating blueberry pie. BLUE...BERRY... PIE. I shriek, and in that minute of busted-ness, he decides to hide the evidence by way of smearing it into my brocade comforter. Sweet lord have mercy, it's my worst nightmare. Blueberry juice smeared into my bed. Now, you're perhaps wondering what terrible mommy doesn't notice that her son is sneaking blueberry pie from the kitchen? My head just spins at how fast this all went down. He was stealth. He had pinpoint accuracy. He's a man with a mission.

Thus is life here in the Jordan household of late. Miles is my handful and Max is along for the ride. After weeks of Miles climbing out of his crib, we decided it's just plain silly to have him sleep in a crib. Isn't the point of a crib to safely confine a child? Miles just uses it as a jungle gym. His new "big boy" bed will be here this week. I shudder to think of what hell he can raise if he doesn't have to exert energy climbing out of his crib and he can just stand up and create mischief.

So, there's your update on Miles. Think twice before you make that blueberry pie. I know I will.

I Wanna Be a Ghost Hunter

A few weeks ago my favorite t.v. guys appeared in person at the Eastfield Mall. Like a true fan, I entered into the meet and great contest, but alas, did not win. I did drag Rob and the boys to the mall that day, determined to see my buddies in person and perhaps even pay for an overpriced item they were autographing. However, we arrived to the hub-bub to find a line that stretched down the mall corridor beyond my view that wound up spiraling around and around the food court center until at last it reached the table where the guys stood shaking hands. That line must've been hours long. I looked despairingly at my two children, an antsy 5-year-old in search of a "good deal on pants", and a ticking timebomb of a 2-year-old, determined to break out of his stroller and run shrieking like a lunatic down into the nearest store to break something. I sighed and gave up hope of personally shaking hands with my most favoritist of favorite t.v. show people and snapped some shots on my camera... I think Jason actually looked my way in this pic! Anyhoo, that's my story on how close I came to meeting the Ghost Hunters, and in the end my antsy 5-year-old did, in fact, find a good deal on some pants!