Typical

It's been a typical week as I continue to amaze myself with my nurturing skills. Four out of the last five breakfasts have included peanut butter kiss cookies, as evidenced by Cole's dripping chocolate goatee. I've come to the conclusion that some food is better than no food. Besides, if they see me pound 4 cookies for breakfast, how can I deny them the same privilege?

Strike two against me came in the form of Cole's first bloody nose. I was putting Keith in the car and Cole was standing right beside me, or so I thought, when he tripped and smacked his face on the sidewalk. It was bad. That's all I'm going to say about that fiasco. Fortunately, he won't commit this event to long-term memory and will hopefully still love me someday. I hope he can also learn to forgive me for not removing his fingers fast enough from the door jam at a play date and for not catching his ear infection before his ear drum ruptured for the second time this month. I know. If you want to nominate me for mother of the year, now would be a great time.

Keith continues to initiate regular wrestling sessions with Cole. He's reminiscent of a relentless little bull dog when he is on the attack. He does not shy away from kids much larger than him as he snakes their toys and makes them cry. I'm not proud of it. (well, okay, maybe a little.) He is a feisty little guy. But I am trying to teach him to back off when Cole and other kids don't want to play rough. This is Brent teaching the boys to kiss and make up after a wrestling session. Sadly, Keith has learned to use this as an "in" before assaulting his larger and unsuspecting brother.

And despite my best efforts to clear out the lower shelves of the pantry of anything harmful or messy, Keith discovered a box of lasagna noodles which he sneakily opened and then turned the noodles into convenient weapons of mass destruction, both to my kitchen floor and Cole.

Men at Work

Brent and I are back on the Home Improvement kick this week. Lucky for me, I have two little helpers who are really great at sanding, hammering and cleaning up (a.k.a. swallowing). When Keith began gnawing on sandpaper and Cole ate dried caulk, I decided it was time to switch gears for the afternoon.

The boys still love to go outside, no matter how cold the weather. I have to be careful when using the "O" word. They are experts at the pouty face...

and at bringing me their shoes when they need some fresh air. With weapons as cute as those, you can imagine how hard it is to keep them inside.

Survival

My mothering skills have been at peak performance in the last 7 days. Cole has bravely fought Croup, a nasty puking flu and an ear infection within the week. I don't know how Keith continues to escape each illness with nothing more than a cough and runny nose. I think all those gestational months fighting for his life gave him super-human powers.

So, today, I had to take both boys in to the doctor for their 15 month check. I was the mother in the waiting room that everyone pretends not to see, but keeps watching out of the corner of their eye in disbelief. Of course I hadn't showered and there's no possible way that I didn't wreak of vomit. Since Cole was on his fifth outfit for the day, his ensemble was not exactly out of a Baby Gap commercial if you know what I mean. And he only had one sock on because I ended up using the other one to wipe Keith's nose. Don't ask...
So, both babies were running in different directions while the receptionist took her sweet time with the co-pays and the insurance cards. I alternated holding them while I signed various routine documents to keep them from damaging any property.

Once in the exam room, Keith immediately started to scream. The nurse said he probably remembered last time we were here (ie: shots) and didn't exactly have fond memories. So now, I have two crying babies since Cole had been continuously crying since 5:30 this morning. Who can blame him? The nurse helped me undress the boys and then weighed and measured them, all while my offspring screamed their heads off.

Above the din, the doctor informed me of Cole's ear infection, probably a gift from the Croup he was getting over. I vaguely remembered the instructions of the anti-nausea and antibiotic medication, mixed in there somewhere with a few more hints on how to get my miniature children to gain weight. After 8 shots, (4 per child) the crying actually slowed to a soft whimper and I was able to get the boys dressed in relative quiet. I held both babies while I made their followup appointment since I didn't have to sign anything, much to the relief of the victims in the waiting room.

I then loaded them up and went directly to the pharmacy. Of course I didn't have the stroller with me since I had taken the boys for a walk yesterday and forgot to put it back in the car. So, here I go carrying both boys into Rite Aid. It took 25 minutes for them to fill two prescriptions, which is the equivalent of eternity when you are chasing sick toddlers around the hair-color aisle. Keith especially loved to knock down the brunette color boxes and chew on the hydrogen peroxide bottles. The louder my children cried, the slower the pharmacist moved...seriously. I think he was amused with my pitifulness. Thankfully, there were a few nice ladies who tried to entertain the boys at various points of the mayhem which was welcome relief. I hope I remember to be so kind someday--that is if I survive this life called young motherhood.

While driving home, I called Brent to report on the doctor visit. (He has conveniently been on a business trip and will return today, thankfully.) I tried to paint a picture of the doctor visit and obviously did not do a good job because the first question out of his mouth was, "So, how did the doctor say the boys were doing developmentally?"
Hmmm, well, it was a little difficult to have a shouting match with the doctor over our screaming children. I barely got the instructions down for all the medications or the directions if Cole gets dehydrated or if Keith gets the flu and so on and so forth. Clearly, I'm in motherhood survival mode here. I'm taking each second at a time and just grateful that I'm 1 mile from home so that at least if my kids are in misery, we can all be miserable in the privacy of our own home and not make a public spectacle of ourselves. So, no. We didn't discuss much about their development besides their weight. She had them walk around a little bit and I told her the handful of words they were saying and that was about it, or at least all that I remember. Hopefully at the 18 month visit I'll bring my "A game". Today it is all about survival.

Fortunately, I am not all doom and gloom today. Last weekend, we got to meet the newest cousin, Caden, and witness his baby blessing. (He is sooooo cute! He looks like a miniature Clint.) Well, most witnessed. I was in the hall with Keith, but I hear it was wonderful. Since I spent most of the weekend keeping my coughing children away from Caden, I didn't really get any good pictures. But I do have an updated picture of all the Burnett grandchildren. It's a little difficult to get them all together, so this is the best shot I could get. We had a fun weekend hanging out with all the cousins. We mostly battled to keep them from clawing at each other but it was still really fun to get together. It's crazy how fast the family is growing!

Caden, Jade, Cohen, Cole, Keith



Cohen licking the frosting bowl and "helping" Grandma make Uncle Clint's birthday cake.

Grandpa and Jade just hanging out. Jade is the sweetest baby ever. Keith dove at her several times and she never flinched.

Grandma teaching the 3 oldest boys how to play the piano. I hope it doesn't take her too long to degrease those piano keys...