My daughter is giving me fits!

Look at that little face in that picture, happily drawing a pretty little work of art, little peach-colored bows in her hair, smiling away.

Ain't she cute, y'all? So so sweet, right?

Do you want her?

Because seriously.
The 'tude? (Already!) The sass? The defiance? The screaming? The INSUBORDINATION! (That was one of my favorite words from the Code of Student Conduct in school.)

Last night, I told her several times to stop pushing herself away from the dinner table, because she was making a mess with all her food. Finally, I pushed her in (again) and said sternly, "Clair, do not push this chair out from the table again. Do you understand?"

She turned her head away from me -- and sloooooowly pushed her chair out, just a hair, and said, "I can do whatever I want."

I. can. do. whatever. I. want.

Folks, I didn't even know what to do, or say. How does one respond to that coming from a 2-year-old with a runny nose and crazy hair?

I do not know what to do with her, y'all. 

I bought her four pairs of sandals for the spring/summer. She flat out refuses to wear any of them. Screams bloody murder and cries huge crocodile tears, chest heaving, face contorted, "WHY DO YOU ABUSE ME SO MOMMY?! I JUST WANT TO WEAR MY NEEKERS!"

Do you know how many adorable little dresses will not get worn because they won't look right with her big clunky sneakers? Do you know how much time it took me to find just the right pairs of cute little-girl sandals? Do you know how much money it costs to buy four pairs of just the right little girl sandals? Do you know this is my personal horror?! A little girl in the summer without cute little sandals and adorable dresses? Why does Clair HATE ME?

You should have seen how terrible she was to Matty this weekend. She was so mad that he was there, touching her toys, breathing her air. She absolutely WOULD NOT share. Like, not even a little bit. And no amount of bribing, cajoling, praising, or time-outing worked. Her will is iron strong, folks. She's like a war-torn spy or something. She does. not. break.

She's started this refusing-to-go-to-sleep thing at naptime and at bedtime. And as is now par for the course with her, she brings on the drama, crying hysterically, "I DON'T WANNA GODABED!" And Lester melts, holding her in his arms while she fake cries into his shoulder and he rubs her back and looks at me like, "Why are you forcing her to go to sleep at night, Mommy Dearest?"

Last night, after I made her cry it out at 8:15 because she didn't want to go to bed, she was awake again at 11 p.m., crying because she has a horrible case of the sniffles and can't breathe. I wiped her nose, comforted her, sung her a little song, and tried to get her back to sleep, but to no avail. Lester -- ever the sucker for her tiny, tear-stained face -- eventually just brought her into our bed, and there she stayed -- kicking and pulling at the covers and poking me and whispering and kicking some more -- until I finally carried her conked out body back into her crib at FOUR A.M.

Lester's alarm went off at 5 a.m. Cary came into my room at 6:05, whining that his mouth hurts.(Is this the age when kids get molars or something? He seems to have a toothache, which confounds me because I really thought we were past this teething business.) I dragged myself out of bed at 6:15 - missed my morning walk, thank you CLAIR! -- and figured I'd at least have a somewhat quiet morning without Princess Cray-Cray because she would likely sleep the morning away after the night she had.

So when Clair was up at 7:15, I nearly lost it. REALLY? You were up all night! How are you awake already, whining about being hungry and needing water and "Can I watch TV?"

Y'all -- I do not know what to do with her. I always said I wanted my children to have strong personalities, but COME ON.

When I was pregnant with her, all I prayed for was sweet, compliant and healthy. All I got was healthy.

God has a sense of humor, I know. But I am too exhausted to laugh.

Update on the crazy kitty

Sara has now been a part of our family for two weeks and four days.

In that time, we have learned that:

1. I am terribly allergic to her. :-(  She makes my eyes all itchy and watery and my nose stuffy and my throat tight. It's really, really frustrating, because it makes me not want her around me. But it is really hard to keep her away because...

2. She is the sweetest, most affectionate, most playful, most social kitty I have ever known. She loves being petted, rubbed, stroked and played with. She wants to be in whatever room we're all in. She follows us around like a puppy. She wants to sleep in my room, on the end of my bed, and cries if I shut her out.  She acts like she is on a perpetual catnip high: She jumps, rolls, pounces, darts, bats at our feet from under the bed, hides around corners and attacks our legs when we walk by. She is hilariously cute and funny, but also a little bit irritating (just being honest) because she is ALWAYS under foot. We don't get a break from her! I'm like, seriously, can you occasionally hide under the sofa like all the other cats in the world? Sheesh.

She is especially cute when she hides in shopping bags or barricades herself in packing boxes. This box has the kids' Halloween costumes, which makes Dean very agitated: "Mommy! Mommy! Sara is on my Halloween!!"

3. Cary loves her, and always wants to play with her. She completely CRACKS him up! Especially when she is darting around, jumping, rolling, pouncing, chasing her tail or batting, swiping and nipping at him. (He doesn't always love being nipped and scratched, but he's fairly good-natured about it.) Sara is like a celebrity to him. When he comes home, he first looks for her. And when she comes in a room, he lights up and coos, "Hiiiiiii, Sarrrrrra! Hiiiiiiii!" He totally harasses that poor kitty, who likes the attention 99-percent of the time, except when she's trying to catnap on our living room arm chair.

4. Dean is sorta interested in her, but still mostly freaked out by all her darting around, jumping, rolling, pouncing, chasing her tail and batting, swiping and nipping at him. He mostly enjoys correcting and disciplining Sara. "No Sara! No. Don't get me! Stop it!" He also wants to know where she is at all times, but I think it is just so that he can know not to be wherever she might be lying in wait to pounce.

5. Clair adores Sara, but we're afraid Sara might think Clair is another kitty friend, especially since she crawls around on all fours, just like she does. She is constantly pouncing on poor unsuspecting Clair, and nipping at her little chubby fists. Clair, to her credit, has not yet cried, but she does look very confused and slightly put-out at being "attacked" by her kitty-love-interest. And I am desperately trying to teach Sara -- with a spray bottle at the ready -- that you do NOT, under any circumstances, bite the baby! Even if she is deliciously cute.

Embrace the crazy

I think I am coming to the end of my crazy-at-work-days, or at least, I'm getting close. There still may be one or two days next week that are hectic. But I can see a light at the end of the tunnel.

Meanwhile, my boys have stepped up the crazy!

Yesterday they woke up at 5:30 a.m. (Ugggggh!)We put them in our bed and told them to lie there quietly (yeah, right) so we could snooze until the alarm went off. Genius that I am, I placed my trusty body pillow between them, to prevent them from kicking each other, stealing each other's loveys and just generally being pests to one another.

Did this stop them? Pllllbbbt! What was I thinking? They kept popping their little heads up over the body pillow, peeking at one another and giggling hysterically. They reminded me so much of a live version of Whack-a-mole, I couldn't help but laugh. And then I was wide awake, and not grumpy at all.
You two are craaazy, I thought! But so, so cute!

Then this morning, while I was in the shower, the boys pulled the clothes out of their hamper and crawled into it. They do this a lot, actually, and we don't stop them because they find it so fun, calling the "amper" a "nunnel" (tunnel) and laughing. But today, apparently, they were laughing and frolicking a little too hard, and so rolled the hamper -- while inside of it -- out of their bedroom, into the hallway and down the STAIRS!!
Thank GOD we have a landing just two steps down, so they rolled only as far as the landing. But it scared them to no end, especially poor Dean, who took a spill out of the hamper and bumped his little (big) head. It also scared Lester who I heard go barreling into the hallway, screaming, "Noooooo!"
(I won't make any sweeping judgmental comments here about certain people who NEVER did install the baby gate at the top of the stairs...Ahem.)

Like I said, thank God for the landing and thank God no one was hurt. But still ... those two are craaaazy, no? How much mischief can they manage to get into before 7:30 a.m.? Sheesh.

Lately, they have found more and more ways to be crazy. They push their blocks and small toys into the slats of our living room radiator. They drink so much bath water, they choke themselves just about every night. They have learned to take their clothes off, and so, as often as not, are shirtless in the house, speeding around, yelling "running! running!"

(Lester sent me this picture this morning, showing me that Cary didn't last 5 minutes downstairs before discarding his pajama top. What they were doing lying side-by-side on the floor is anyone's guess.)

They make us laugh so much with their antics and the things they say: like waking up this morning immediately asking to go "ow-sye" to "pway" with our next-door-neighbor's son, "Baby Greg." And then reciting the names of Michelle's dogs, whom they've only met through pictures on her phone: "Petto, pees! Zoe!!" And then demanding we turn the "noose on!" And then asking us to give their loveys a "tiss." Over and over.

All this before Lester and I can muster the energy to even get out of bed.

Their boundless energy and happiness is a total pick-me-up, and I'm so glad -- even at 6:10 a.m. -- to have their little toes kneading my thighs, and their smiling faces leaned over my head, waaaay too close for that time of the morning, demanding I get up and get this party started!!

I love, love, love their utter craziness. And I'm crazy in love with them.