Strategic plans of attack

Things have been quiet around here.

Well, if you can call the ear piercing screaming that has replaced my 3-year-old's beautiful little voice "quiet" that would be a fairly accurate statement.

By "quiet" I'm hoping you've read between the lines. The kids haven't gone totally berzerk and started climbing the walls again like they did when my husband was out of town for the better part of two weeks at the beginning of October. Yeah, they're less crazy (ie: quiet) lately, which makes me wonder what they're secretly plotting.


They hide in the Goob's closet and talk sometimes. I think that's their plotting room. If I ventured in under the clothes hanging in there I might even find paper stuck to the wall with Vaseline and drawings of the rooms in the house with routes mapped out like they've joined the front lines and will soon strike on enemy territory. I imagine things like "Best course to cookie jar" scribbled in crayon over a depiction of my kitchen or a drawing of my bed and the tactical plan for the invasion. I assume directions for how to best get under Mom's skin are somewhere in the mix.

Oh yes, I truly think my children are just waiting for their chance to turn into hellions. Likely, the next full moon.

Their normal behavior is, well, normal for their ages. They want nothing to do with me if my hands are empty, head is clear and mouth is shut. God forbid I make a phone call.

Yesterday. Oh, sweet Monday. I was trying to have a conversation with my husband's aunt about Thanksgiving - I bet you see what's about to happen here - it's not bad enough I get sidetracked with my own excitement over talking to another adult that I try to fit a full week's worth of topics into one conversation, but then add in three deer in the backyard and two crazy children who chose that particular 20-minute timeframe to be the most obnoxious they'd been all day.

Screaming, just to scream. No, I take that back. Screaming because she's 3 and thinks it's awesome she can be the loudest person on Earth. This kid is hitting notes lately that make the dog cringe. In retaliation, Bad Bailey tends to chew up A LOT of Mega Bloks. And after yesterday's episode she even took off with a picture Josie colored when we went to the gym ... she ate a corner of the picture before I could take it away. Seriously, even the dog is trying to tell her to STFU and CTFD where the screaming is concerned.

On top of screaming, they took to slapping the windows on the enclosed porch. Why, you ask? Because I had three tender and juicy deer standing in the backyard. And it's apparently hilarious to watch them flinch, stop eating and go stock still when they hear the *bang* of someone hitting the glass in a window. Hilarious, I tell you. Sidenote: I must be the only asshole in New York who holds a hunting license but has no gun in the house ... those deer, they're mocking me.

While all of this was going on, I caught Charlie riding her tricycle. I need to send her to the circus. She was holding the handlebars and standing on the seat while trying to bounce the bike forward. Pretty darn talented for two weeks shy of 2 years old.

No, no I did not make her get down. I tried talking her into it by mentioning the idea, though. No dice. At least she was wearing her helmet.

This is my life, with the added bonus of laundry, balancing the checkbook, (still) trying to get a house ready to be put into realty and attempting to figure out what I want to be when I grow up.

And with Charlie turning 2, I think it's time Boy Wonder and I have a serious discussion about turning her into a middle child and keeping the crazy going.

That's a discussion I can drink to. Or will need to offer him a drink to have. Or something.

Regardless, beer will be involved.