Katie's Kindergarten Registration? Already?

I got the letter from Katie's elementary school the other day telling me that we're scheduled for kindergarten registration next month.

This seems to be happening just a tiny bit too fast.

I checked off the list of things I needed and, happily, seem to have all of them ready to go.  All except one tiny thing.


The birth certificate.



The birth certificate that I never actually requested... 5 years ago.

Insert gasp here.

Now, I'll admit that it's not hard to return a form.  As a matter of fact, I thought I returned the form waaaaay back when Katie was a tiny baby. 

I realized about 3... years... later that I had not.  When I found the envelope (neatly stamped and addressed) in a planner I rarely (really rarely) use.

And when she was 3 or even 4, I didn't actually need her birth certificate so it wasn't a big deal.  I thought I could get around to it when I had a chance (probably at the same time I requested Jake's since I couldn't tell you if I sent the form in for him either).  And now?  Well NOW I need that birth certificate.  By early March.  So I can bring it to registration.

So I don't have to babble some incoherent explanation about how I didn't send it in when she was born even though I thought I had and when I found out I hadn't, I just didn't think I would need it so soon so I didn't send it in then either and now I sent the form but I have to wait for it to arrive because expediting the delivery and the process would have cost an arm and a leg... as I open a paper bag to breath into.  The kind of explanation I give, when inside my head I'm saying "Shut up already!"

So, I'm going home tonight to check the one place I've managed to successfully store the kids' social security cards and hope that maybe I'll find one certificate for Katie and one certificate for Jake in that same envelope and I'll be able to save the $45 per kid that it would cost to replace them.  You know, $26 for the birth certificate, certified of course, and $19 for the extra copy of the same certified birth certificate that I will keep as a backup. 

Because it's got to be some kind of Murphy's law that if you only order one of something important, you'll lose it...  or someone will cut it up with child scissors. 

BUT if you order two, you're golden.  No one will want anything to do with whatever you've got, as long as there is more than one.  Aaaaaaand as long as it's not candy.  Or anything colorful.  Or dangerous. 

Or any combination of the above.

The kids like to fix stuff with Grandpa

So, about 2 weeks ago we noticed our bathroom sink wasn't draining.  In fact, when we used one of the sinks it would start to fill up and then the other sink would fill up leaving us with two watery sinks.

John and Grandpa both looked at this but neither one could figure it out.  It seemed there was something blocking the pipe.  I thought it might be a cap from something, Katie thought it was a tiny shoe Jake "must have" put down the drain.  (I wasn't ready to lay the blame on Jake too quickly though.  I think that Katie thinks he's a good scapegoat because he doesn't really talk much and isn't able to defend his honor.  Soooo, I take Katie's finger pointing with a grain of salt.  A big one, the size of a salt lick.)

After mulling it over, Grandpa decided he needed to get to the pipe and hopefully the source of the problem.

Through a hole in Jake's bedroom wall.

Grandpa cut a hole in the wall (gasp!), daddy fixed the pipe (whew!), then it was time to patch things up (yay!).

 Katie helped on day 1... Jake held his toothbrushes.

Jacob got more into the process on day 2 (of course, he had just had a bath so he ended up with the mud in his hair and caked on his hands... but he had such fun using the tools and "helping"!) 

This is a "before" picture.  What you didn't get to see is the mud Grandpa put on the wall for him to work with.  I couldn't watch.  I have a big aversion to messes that I can't immediately clean up and this had the makings of a BIG mess.  But the kids had a ton of fun working with Grandpa.  (Jake was not a ton of fun once it came time to clean him up.  He did not want to let go of the tools of the trade.)

In other news, Katie went to cubbies (she's wearing pink pants with hearts to match her pink shirt with hearts... and her red dressy coat she got with her Christmas dress... two years ago.  Her cubbies vest completed the ensamble.  And her winter coat, that I didn't think would go over this, fit fine.

While she was at cubbies, we (me and Jake) went to Bakers Square with Grandma.  Jake ate fries and french toast.  Happy camper.  AND we each got a slice of free pie.  YUM.  Jake gave mommy his slice of pie.  He didn't tell me to eat it in so many words, but I know he would have wanted me to have it.  He's sweet like that.

That was last week.  I'm happy to report that the bathroom sink has stayed fixed and nothing else has broken, and I would like to say that we've been drama free ever since... but I can't. 

See, there was a tiny bottle of purple nailpolish... and a sweet almost-5-year-old girl... but that's another post.

Katie paints her fingernails. And the bathroom counter. And her Leapfrog. And the toilet, wall, and blinds.

I got home last night and saw my almost-5-year-old daughter in one of her designer outfit creations (this day happened to include her grey, pink, and cream mouse socks, her brown and pink skirt, her neon orange/green heart tank top, and her blue, pink, and white polkadot bathrobe) and after I admired how lovely she looked, I noticed the nail polish on her nails.  I exclaimed over the pretty color and asked if daddy had painted them for her.  She said yes but... daddy looked at me with raised eyebrows and said nope.

Then daddy told me to go look in the bathroom.

*sigh*

That's usually what I do when daddy tells me to "go look" at something.  Or when I hear Jake in the kitchen and the splat of liquid hitting the floor.

On my way to the bathroom, I noticed one of the brand new, child proof cabinet locks I got from Target the night before laying on the living room floor.  These were for the kitchen cabinets; one for the cupboard under the kitchen sink that I store our cleaner/detergent in, replacing the plastic bag we had tied around the knobs (it wasn't a good look, but it worked), and one for the cupboard with pots and pans because Jake's been using the shelf in the pots and pans cabinet to test his climbing skills and he can now reach about 2 feet higher onto our kitchen counters. Not good.

I asked John if he took them off and he said nooo, because he couldn't figure out how to use them (which would be funny if I hadn't had to consult the directions more than once myself to figure the things out) and I looked at Katie, who immediatly pointed the finger at Jacob.  I wondered if maybe I hadn't tightened them enough and Jake strong armed them off (because he's good at that) but really I figured it was her because I remembered that she was standing right.next.to.me. as I read and reread those cryptic directions.  So I put them back on, tighter than before in case it really was Jake.

*sigh*

Off I went to check the damage with a pit stop to glance into Katie's room.  I noticed the metal nail file on the floor and yelled to John that it was there and DANGEROUS!  He yelled back that he thought he already picked one up.  Which made me even more nervous about opening the bathroom door.

So I figured I would open it a bit at a time, slowly.  The first 6 inches revealed a Leapfrog Explorer that Katie LOVES to play with.  She had accessorized with polish on the screen and the buttons.  Lovely.  Oh, and lines of polish on a section of the counter.  Not... terrible... so I continued opening the door.

More polish on the other side of the sink.  And on the wall by the toilet.  And on one of the blinds slats.  And on the handle and step of the step stool.  And on my shower curtain.  I was a little less pleased about that (everything else would come off with polish remover).  I saw a little streak on her potty chair seat, still okay.  And then... I saw the bottle of nail polish remover.  The cover was laying on the floor and the bottle was empty.  I didn't see evidence of a spill anywhere so I decided to ignore that.

Katie knew I was upset, she got a time out because she used MOMMY's stuff.  This stuff isn't just laying around... It was in the bathroom cupboard UNDER the bathroom sink, secured with a little "child proof" thing you need to push down and at the same time pull the door open before the cupboard will open.  It was also in a little plastic case with tabs on each side that I have trouble opening.  And she got in and opened up her little bottle of polish all by herself.

Here's my question... How long are things that say "child proof" really supposed to be child proof?  At what age does the kid have the smarts and dexterity to open this so-called CHILD PROOF stuff?  I'll tell you... almost 5 years old.

*sigh*

While I was talking to her about the dangers of nail polish, I noticed that she had taken one of my new bins from my bedroom closet and packed it full of her books.  She totally took something of mine (new, in the wrapper) opened it up and stole it.  We talked again about MOMMY's stuff and how it is NOT Katie's.

*sigh*

Then, I noticed that there were a number of dish towels laying around the living room.  I asked what happened and she said she was trying to clean up water Jake had spilled.  I told her that it was nice of her to do that but she could just tell daddy.  She does not need to pull out 9 of my kitchen towels to clean up the water and then leave them all strewn about the room...

*sigh*

I wondered if it might be time for bed yet?  It was 6:00 p.m. after all...

But no, too early, and we hadn't eaten dinner yet.  John picked up Zantigo because I was just thinking that this was not going to be a "relaxing, make dinner for the gang while the kids play nicely" kind of a night.  I guessed that it might be more of a "scarf down dinner fast so I can be ready to follow the kids around so I could make sure they don't pick this one night to get into something they've never paid attention to ever before" kind of night (ahem, Katie).

So John gets home with the food, I head to the kitchen with Jake and get our chairs out (folding chairs we have to store behind the table between meals so Jacob doesn't use them to climb... you know, so he can hit the ice and water buttons on our fridge, for example) when I hear a thud, then Katie crying. 

I look into the living room to see Katie on the floor next to what used to be a table (the kind that you can scoot under furniture because it's only got legs on one side) but is now two pieces of wood - the base and side legs... and the top.  From what I can piece together, she had one hand on the arm of the couch and the other on the tabletop and pushed off... and landed chin first on the table.

She's got a little scar but it's not terrible.  I made her laugh and we continued on to dinner.  She posed for this before we ate.

After dinner I collapsed onto the couch enjoyed some relaxing time on the couch.  Till I heard Jake in the kitchen all by himself and wondered what he found in there.  I thought I might have forgotten to put one of the chairs back behind the table... then I heard the splat of liquid hitting the floor, and his laughter.

I rushed into the kitchen to find him holding Katie's almost empty juice glass.  Right next to the juice he dumped out on the floor.  I don't know how he manages to dump out the glass but avoid the splatter.

Grandpa came upstairs to hang a shelf, then take it down again because it wasn't very sturdy.  Jake started to walk around with the hammer.  Cried because I took that away.

Finally decided that it was jammy time at around 9 and the kids ran around like crazies till I put on "An American in Paris" which (surprisingly) they both liked... at least, they enjoyed the song and dance parts.

Katie was laying on the floor to watch and holding a package of wipes and Jake saw that and picked up the other package of wipes and the bag of diapers from the diaper box and he laid down too.
They both hung out till I said it was bedtime (about 30 minutes).  Jake got up, put back the packet of wipes, then went back and grabbed the diapers to put those away too (much to my amazement).  Then he went to the chair all of his toys were on and we both picked up some toys and walked to his room.  Put them in his crib, put him in his crib, shut the door and went to find Katie.  She was in bed (much to my amazement).  She got up a few minutes later which was good, because I had forgotten about the nailpolish just waiting for a cleaner. 

I asked her if I would find nailpolish anywhere else that I hadn't already seen and she opened up the CHILD PROOF lock on the cabinet to show me a little burst of color on the inside of the door.  I left that as a reminder to myself that she's not so little anymore...

*sigh*

She cleaned up some of the mess with the nailpolish remover (luckily I had a little left in another bottle) and then I sent her to bed while I finished.

Later that night, I went into the bathroom, lifted the toilet lid, and shook my head at the streaks of polish there.  Was nothing left untouched?

I checked on her before I went to bed and she was wearing the sleep mask all tucked in.  Looked like a little angel.

What a stinker.

Huh? Whaaa? How?

The weekend?  One word... Awesome. 

Fun Saturday night at a friends (the men watched some fight on pay-per-view upstairs while the moms watched a movie downstairs and the kids ran around the whole house like savages - minus any face paint), grocery shopping alone (yay), Jake and Katie playing "chef" with my pots and pans while I made caldo de res (which was DElicious), the kids running around in their matching Sponge Bob jammies and eating uncooked pop tarts for a snack (somehow this has become their favorite food), and silence at 8 p.m. on Sunday night because Jake went to bed early after a nap-less day leaving me to watch Glee (with Katie snuggling and half asleep next to me) in peace.

Something big also happened this weekend and even though I knew it was coming, I suddenly realized that my baby wasn't a baby anymore.

No way. 

Jake can.not be 2 years old. 

It's like I blinked and went from c-section recovery to chasing an active crawler, another blink and I went from crawler to climber (um, scary), and I blinked again and went from baby to BIG boy (with a lot of other blinks in between just speading the growing up along).

It went so fast.

I mean, sometimes I'll admit that I'm watching the figurative clock waiting for the day when these kids decide that I'm not the best thing since sliced bread (or Sponge Bob) and they're okay with me leaving the room for the minimal amount of time it takes me to use the facilities... 

~ Start tangent ~

I almost long for a day when Katie doesn't open the door and wander into the bathroom to see what I'm doing and to have a very important, right-that-minute-urgent, long discussion about favorite animals. 

Which leaves the door open for Jake to wander on in and check things out. 

Which usually leads to a fight over who gets to sit on the step stool (situated less than 1 foot away from where I happen to be trying to do something I don't ever need company for). 

Which usually leads to me getting stressed out over the potential for injury on the many hard bathroom surfaces (not to mention the scary possibility of one kid pushing the other into the tub during any scuffles).  Which makes what I'm trying to do very difficult to do quickly. 

Which leads to many a sigh over one of the great injustices of mommyness.  Why is it (at least in our house) that the kids feel the need to follow mommy into the bathroom on almost every occasion, but daddy can wander about, even looking like he's got something important to accomplish, and NO ONE feels the need to follow him around?  If I look like I might have a purpose for leaving the room (not including picking up toys... somehow neither of my kids even twitches when I get up for that purpose), I've got two shadows attaching themselves to me.

~ End tangent ~

So, yes, sometimes I'm clock watching... but other times, the other 90% of the time, I'm hoping they stay right where they are for the next 10 years... maybe longer.  My babies.  Smelling sweet from their bath, cuddling next to me on the couch, running over to give my leg a hug before they shoot off to another adventure, heads together talking... all of those moments that make me forget the not-so-fun stuff (like throw up and spilled milk and the quickly resolved drama of the weekend that came when Katie, upset that it wasn't her birthday, told me that "all she wanted was for me to say Happy Birthday to her so she could stop crying" which I did, and she did.)

Oh, back to Jake.  We sang Happy Birthday at Katie's urging (a few times) but we're having the official birthday party later this month so I don't have any pics yet.