I should have known what kind of a day it was going to be when I heard Max climb out of bed at 5:45 a.m. I took him back to bed 5 times before I gave up and grabbed a blanket and tried to crash on the chair in his room. I kept explaining to him that it was still "Night, night" time. He would open the blinds, let the 6:30 a.m sun shine in and say, "No, night-night, Mama, see." Sigh. Anyway, I gave up and we went downstairs, where he promptly opened the back door setting off our house alarm. That woke me up from my not-enough-sleep stupor. Things went fairly smoothly the rest of the day with only one tantrum (me taking away the chocolate milk he helped himself to and him objecting vigorously) and a few wrestling matches at the Dr.'s office (Ella got her cast removed today!) and only one small chase out the front door and down the street. I didn't mind too much since I had my clothes on this time.
Then 6:30p.m. rolls around. I rush out the door to get to soccer sign ups so I don't have to wait in line with 4 kids for an eternity. I even fill out my forms ahead of time. I make it out of the garage and half way there when I realize that I have to bring the kids' birth certificates so we turn around and I run and grab them. Then I wait in line only to find out that they want 2 copies of each form not one. So then I wait in another line for a computer so I can print out the extra form only to find that the computer is not working. Wait, wait, wait and wait and then the computer starts to work and 10 minutes later the printer spit out 3 forms. By this time, the kids were going crazy. I told the girls to take Max and play in the corner for a minute while I waited in yet another line. I realized as I got my wallet out that I did not have my check book (Max had dumped my purse out earlier in the day) almost the same moment Max pulled the fire alarm. Nice. I loaded the kids up in the car, drove 10 minutes to the nearest ATM to take out the requisite amount because the Soccer league only deals in checks or cash. Then drove back to pay, by the time we got home it was 7:30 and I still hadn't fed the kids. I rushed them through dinner to get them to bed on time only to discover in that Max had been up in the girls' room. He had dumped the entire contents of fish food into the tank. The water was so murky we had trouble finding the fish. While Kate was on a search and rescue mission, I decided it was time for Max to go to bed. Enough is enough! I put him down and then returned to the fun process of emptying out the fish tank and cleaning it. 15 minutes later, Max joins us in Kate and Ella's room to see what is going on. I scold him and send him back to bed. We finish the fish tank by 9p.m. and I try and get the kids to bed. I check on Max only to find that he is out of his crib and has dumped baby powder all over his room. After I clean up the mess, swat him on the bum (I know, but !!!) and put him down for bed. I go downstairs and am greeted by the mess pictured above. Is it tomorrow yet?
The broken thumb and subsequent blue cast is all a distant memory now. We celebrated Reynolds' style--with FOOD. Ella helped me make these brownies and insisted on the "words" on the brownies. As Ella says, "Like a birthday cake, Mom." Although it was an agonizing decision for her to choose between brownies and a slurpee. She decided that she would rather have a slurpee on a warm day and that she could do chores to earn the slurpee, so it wouldn't be that hard to get one when she wanted. Robert says he is glad her cast is off because, "she can hit hard with that thing." :)
Max likes to come up behind me when I am sitting at the computer and put his arms around my neck and holler, "EEEE HAAA." Think cowboy riding on a horse with a two-year old limited language spin. This is my cue to stand up and run around the house with him. Since I'm tired this morning, I talked him into a photo shoot instead. It kept him busy for ten minutes. At least he wasn't dragging one of my kitchen chairs out the back door and through the yard around to our side gate to see if he could get the latch unlocked and run wild in the dangerous streets. Maybe I should call this photo session a battle won for me instead of a truce.
This afternoon, I was peacefully cooking in my kitchen thinking pleasant thoughts, when I heard some strange noises upstairs. I checked Max's crib first since he was suppose to be in it taking his nap. What I found on my way to his crib was a nicely formed, smelly, brown piece of poo resting comfortably on his soon-to-be sanitized blue rug. But no Max. I started calling his name and heard some muffled noises coming from the bathroom. I went to the door only to find it locked. I told Max to open it and he said my least favorite word, "No, Mama." I cajoled, I ranted, I banged on the door and imagined horrible things but still he would not unlock the door. Finally, I had to pick the lock. I found Max at the sink with his pants around his ankles and his white bum bared for all to see, playing happily with a cup and the running faucet. I considered putting him time out for the rest of his life. 
