I have found A secret

This week the other parental unit (a.k.a. my lovely, breadwinning, awesome, beautiful wife) is away again on business.  At least that is what I was told for the reason for the trip to sunny Disney World Florida.  I know she is having a tough time.  Sitting by the pool.  In the warm sun.  When she really is longing for the confines of snowy, negative seventeen degree (windchill) New England home.  But someone has to take one for the team and I guess this time it was her.  Thanks, darling.  We all appreciate it.  I mean which looks better?

This?

Or this?

You all said option B, right?  I thought so.  

So I was giving the hellians a bath, and as usual they were berserk the second they get into water.  I don't know about you parents out there, but once my kids hit the bath water they go insane.  Throwing water.  Splashing uncontrollably as if they were having a seizure (which they aren't.  I've checked).  So last night as the bath was filling up they wanted it to go faster.  So I did what any semi-psychotic parent would do.  I filled a small bucket, usually used for rinsing, with water from the sink.  COLD water.  I have a well so it was really cold.  Seeing this the girls knew of their impending doom and calmed right down.  I put the bucket next to the bath within reach if things got out of hand again.  The rest of the bath went rather smoothly aside from the normal bumping and pushing to "get into warmer waters."  One kid was all washed and had gotten out of the tub.  The other, older and wiser child decided her ears no longer worked and ceased to heed my requests for tub exiting.

Oh, Looky here.  There's a big bucket of water here.  I sprinkled a little on her.  Still no compliance.  So I poured some out.  Onto her naked, yet submerged behind.  Oh the screams.  You'd think I put hydrochloric acid in the water and her skin was being devoured by tiny OH molecules.  I asked again for her to exit said tub.  The not-so-warm water must have unclogged her ears because she snapped right up and made a B line for the towel. Success!  Kind of.  I just hope I didn't scar her for the rest of her life.  Nah.  She's a trooper.  Much too strong for a little chilly water to forever footnote her childhood.

You may think of my actions last night down right cruel or sadistic.  I'm okay with that.  I had to do something.  Otherwise the mutiny would spread through the troops like wildfire and I would have had to turn the hose on them.  On a frigid night.  (The bucket doesn't seem so bad now, does it?)

I doubt they will try to pull that stunt again.  Until tonight at least.  Maybe I should grab a bucket of snow just incase.

Tonight is special

For those of you who read my last post, you know I have been playing single parent for a few days.  No big deal really.  Just another stroll in the park.  (Cue whistling and nonchalant stroll)  BTW bedtime last night went off without a hitch.  The girls stayed in the same room - ALL NIGHT - without incident.  Will that ever happen again?  Shake your Magic 8 Ball to find out;  I bet "Chances are Not Likely" will come up.  

Back to the topic du jour.  Tonight being special.  It is special because the lady of the house is returning home.  Please do not ask what time she will come home.  That question has been asked more than a million-gazilion times since she has left two days ago.  At least they spread em out over the entire span of their mom's absence.  Because if they asked that many times all at once, or all in a row, I would be curled up in a ball in the corner rocking myself to insanity.  

ANYWAY.....

My beautiful wife is coming back today and we have a date tonight.  These two occasions weren't planned to be in conjunction, but when God gives you limes, you make margaritas.  This date night isn't like the normal date night.  Its not "Oh, I'll watch your kids tonight so you can go out to dinner."  This is a full on, pre planned, dinner and a show date.  A while back I got tickets to Phil Vassar at a local venue.  (Honestly the only thing I know of Mr. Vassar is his song on our wedding CD that we made for our wedding favors.)  But he can't be too bad.  Adult Contemporary Country with a little hipness.  As long as it isn't One Direction or Ms. I-Can't-Really-Sing Swift.  I have heard enough of those two in my head when I wake up, when I go to sleep, when I drive the car.  Sometimes I think I have a brain tumor, then I just remember we only listen to Radio Disney.   (Woah, we have veered quite far from the topic.)  Maybe there's some validity to Radio Disney causing brain diseases.  I'll get back to you on that.  Please people of Disney, there is no scientific proof to my theory.  I am totally positive there is no correlation between your quality Satellite Radio Station and any body damaging sickness.  Please don't punish me by making me ride It's A Small World for eternity.  It will never happen again.  

We are planned to drop the kids off for a sleepover at the grandparents and head to our show.  I'm sure there will be some date stops in between.  Some really romantic stops.  Like the clearance isle at Target or a romantic stroll through the drug store on our way to pick up pictures that were printed, yet we have no room for any more photo albums.  And since the rise in popularity of digital cameras, who has photo albums anymore?  (I'm noticing a theme today - not staying on topic.  Mental note:  Don't blog in the morning.)  If we can keep ourselves under control on our romantic stops, we should be able to get to our show a little early for a pre dinner cocktail (for me) and an unleaded beverage for the one with the baby bump.  

And after the show we are to pick up the older one from her slumber and return her to home in preparation for her upcoming school day and leave the younger child to sleep.  (Don't worry, we aren't leaving her there for good.  She'll be dropped off in the morning.  If we haven't run off to Tijuana.)  All in all it seems like a good plan.  I'm excited for a night off.  The Wife has expressed her excitement for a night out.  The kids are excited to take over The House That Grandpa Built.  

Everything looks great, on paper.  What could possibly go wrong?

Its that time again. The time where I make a blog post.

Its that time again.  The time where I make a blog post.  The first post of 2014.  Big news, I know.  Try to hold back your excitement.  Naahh.  Get excited.

This week my co-habitator/significant other/wife/baby-mamma is away on work business.  At least that's what she's telling me.  I think she just needed time away after the holidays.  Or she might actually be doing work things;  she's always doing work things.  So its just me and the girls doing what we do.

A funny thing has been happening lately at bedtime.  Usually we (the mother of said children and I) break off and each read stories or are read stories to, by the children.  Then its off to la-la land for them.  We just get some quiet time together.  Which means we watch some TV or clean up some giant mess that was left from the daily kid tornado.  Lately the older one is getting frustrated with her younger counterpart.  She is really into reading and genuinely likes it.  Who knew?  Must take after her mother.  Needless to say she needs peace and quiet, and anyone with a three year old knows, peace and quiet are things only read about in science fiction novels.  Or after the offspring have grown and moved out.  So she reads her books in our bed, usually reading herself to sleep.  Its great.  Unless you create a pattern and she is reading herself to sleep every night in your bed and you are transporting a sleeping first grader to their bed without trying to wake up her younger sister.  But that's my gripe with it.

Her sister on the other hand does not want to fall asleep alone.  She is fine playing alone.  She is fine watching the iPad or Idiot Box alone.  She's probably fine blowing up a building alone.  But sleeping?  That can't happen without a partner?  I feel her pain.  Sleeping alone isn't the same.  But my experience with solo sleeping and her's vary differently.  She just wants another human in HER ROOM.  My wife has been stealing my covers, stealing my body heat, and leaving socks in the bed for almost eleven years all the while building a fortress of pillows around her.  It has turned into a modern day Goldie Locks and The Three Bears.  This pillow is too flat.  This pillow is too hard.   This pillow is not hard enough.  This one is not soft enough.  I swear my bed is starting to look like one of those beds you see on HGTV where the pillows take up 95% of the bed space.  How are you supposed to sleep in it?  If they all are going to end up on the floor, what's the point of all the pillows?  You need one pillow.  Just one to rest your noggin on while you sleep.  And I'm not even sure about that.  I'm a little off topic here.

After last nights mini tantrum about falling asleep alone, I calmly break the news to Me. Sleepypants that she needs to keep quiet in order for her sister to sleep in the same room.  And after a few more coddling words, she finally agrees (basically I told her that it isn't going to happen) that for tonight, she will go off to sleepiness bliss without the company of her elder sister.  But maybe tomorrow night.  If she can keep quiet.  Here's hoping.

One day they won't want to be within earshot of each other.  But for now, I'm glad at least one of them wants to be with their sister.  And they will have to band together and form an alliance once the new baby comes along.  That will go over like a fart in church.