The Perks of Being a Mudder.

Handsome Dude.

You have all heard me speak of this 3-year-old boy from time to time . . . no?

He is exhausting, busy, unpredictable, stubborn, and naughty.  He has peed on my washing machine, defrosted our freezer full of beef, peed on my dryer, made me question why God made me a mother,  and broken no less than 78 pairs of glasses.

And he is precious to my heart.

Yesterday was a glorious day in which he decided to be my little helper.  You see, Handsome Dude, as precious as he is,  had created colossal messes in 4 separate rooms of our house.  So, I asked him to start cleaning.

This never goes well.

Usually he throws himself on the ground for all the injustice and inhumanity in his world and shouts furious statements, such as:

"The Libbing Woom is too tired!  I can't clean it."

"Cokey not helping me!  He wee naughty."

Cokey is his name for his brother.

And my personal favorite:

"I don't like this.  I'M GOING TO BED!"

Ah.  That would be a shame.

Well, yesterday, as soon as I asked him to clean, he ran downstairs and cleaned his room.  Then he proudly marched over to me and asked:

"What's next, Mudder?"

Obviously, this means I am an awesome parent.  Feel free to email me your quandaries with our own offspring and I will try to help you.

Handsome Dude also decided yesterday was the day for him to learn how to hang up clean shirts.

This task frustrated him.

(Look!  See?  There's Horton Hatches the Egg!  I told you people I have to read that darn book 3 times a day. I meant what I said and I said what I meant, I am not a liar, one hundred per cent.)

Finally, last night before bed, Handsome Dude was showing Little Dude a candle and telling him to smell it.

Calm down.  The candle was not lit.

HD (short for Handsome Dude . . . keep up, people!):  See, Cokey?  Smewl it.  Is nummy!

LD (short for Little Dude):  Uh-huh!

HD:  Cokey, wanna hold it?

LD:  Uh-huh!

HD:  Ok.  But you gotta use three hands!  I help you.

LD:  K!

Little Dude.

Little Dude isn't as helpful these days.  If I ask him to do something, he yells,

"Just a minute!"  or, more accurately, "Nah-Blah-Min-In!"

Yes.

My boys' early language skills are impressive.

My boys.

They exhaust me.  But I love being their mudder.

***

After the boys went to bed, The Lumberjack and I participated in, what I like to call,

"The Same Thing Happens Every Night."

We are both exhausted, but like to pretend not to be.  One of us suggests a show.  The other agrees.  One of us suggests a snack, even though neither of us are hungry.  The other agrees.  We eat.  We watch.  We sit.  I ask my husband if he wants to go to bed or watch one more show.

"Another show is fine."

Like the fool that I am,  I fall for this trick of his nightly and in no time, he is twitching and snoring and snoring and twitching.

Such is my life.

Does anyone else have a spouse who does the weird tired-twitching thing when they are falling asleep?

Well, last night, while I was watching a show and LJ was twitching, the power went off!

Me:  David!  The electricity is out!

LJ:  So?

Me:  So?  I'm scared.

LJ in his "I'm-too-tired-sassy-pants-voice":  Why are you scared?

Am I the only human who gets scared when wind is howling, the house is in complete darkness, and the fear of no electrical appliances in the morning lurks about?

Right then, we hear Little Dude wailing from downstairs in his crib.  Little Dude is wee afraid of the dark.  The Lumberjack and I try to get ourselves from the upstairs loft to the main living room and find some flashlights.  We find a tiny one and use that one to help us find the bigger one.

Which is, of course, out of batteries.

The Lumberjack holds the tiny one for me so I can put in new batteries.  I do and the flashlight doesn't work.

Me:  I wonder if I put them in wrong?

LJ:  You did.

Me:  Why didn't you tell me I was doing it wrong?

LJ:  Because you are an adult and you should know how to put batteries in.

Great.  I see he is still hanging onto the "I'm-too-tired-Sassy-Pants-voice."

I finally rush downstairs to Little Dude.

Little Dude was not wee afraid of the dark, friends.

Little Dude was wee covered in chunky vomit.

Ah.  The joys of being a mudder.

So, I call to LJ that I need help and try to assess the damage.  LJ comes down and, oddly enough, is annoyed at how I am handling things.  He informs me that I need to get our son out of the crib.

This is information I am aware of.

However, it gets tricky because, may I remind you, OUR SON IS COVERED IN VOMIT.

LJ decides what I need is some trash bags and he heads upstairs to get some.  When he returns, he is holding open the bag as I dump all the soiled linens in.

As I am dumping, he keeps sighing and rolling his eyes.  Yes.  He is still sassy.

Are we surprised?

No.

Me:  Is something wrong, David?

LJ:  Yes, Taylor.  Why are you putting blankets in that don't look like they have throw up on them?

Me:  Hon.  I'm just washing everything.

LJ:  Whatever, Taylor.

Me:  Can you get him in the bath?

LJ:  Taylor.  We can't.  There's no power.

Me:  We have no water?

LJ, again baffled by my stupidity:  No, Taylor.  But our pump is not going to work.

Me:  Huh?

So, LJ disappears with vomit-boy into the dark abyss and somehow manages to wash him up, sans water pump, while I make up a new bed.

We get the sickly dude back to sleep and then go upstairs to get ourselves ready for bed.

Me:  David, can I flush the toilet?

LJ:  Kind of.

Me:  David.  Should I save flushes?

LJ:  Taylor.  We only have so much water and when it is gone it is gone because the PUMP is on ELECTRICITY.

Me:  NEAT!  Do you want me to not flush?

LJ:  That would be great.

Then, I had the audacity to brush my teeth.  As I was watering my toothbrush, he slammed off the water.

LJ:  You just don't get it, do you?

Me:  Nope.  Guess not.

So, we went to bed, grumpy and smelling like vomit.  I was confused and scared and LJ was twitching and snoring.

A couple of hours later, I was awakened to a few lights and a very cheerful husband.

LJ:  Look, hon!  The electricity is back on!  Love you!

Then he kissed me and went back to twitching and snoring.

That man exhausts me.  All my boys exhaust me.

***

Alright!  Thank you for voting for me in the Babble Top 50 Mom Blogs!  I am now at #9!

Holla, Voters!

Holla!

I have no idea how long this contest lasts or how the voting works.  I have heard from some people that you can vote once a day, while others say you can vote once.  I don't know when this will end.  I don't know how many more times I will shamelessly beg you do vote for me.

I apologize for all the unknowns.

If you wouldn't mind, you can click here to vote.  Once you click on the link, you scroll down a bit and find my blog's name and then you click on the little "thumbs up" picture that says, "I like this Blogger."

I would really love to remain in the Top Ten.

Thank you again!

Happy Tuesday!