Rory vs. the world

August has been a really busy month for us; between weddings, family parties, and vacation. Since we’ve seen friends and family we don’t normally see on a daily or weekly basis, I often get the question, “how are the kids?”

Most days the answer is easy….but then there are days where tank has just finished squishing a grasshopper between his fingers, turned the stovetop burners on a my moms house, chewed a piece of chalk, dialed a random number on one of our phones, or ripped apart my dishwasher…..

Some days I shake my head at the magnitude of difference between my two kids. At 15 months, Cardin would sit for hours and play quietly with puzzles and read a bin full of books. She is my reserved kid; ever faithful in helping me out. At 15 months old, Rory chews the faces off the animal puzzle pieces and uses pages out of his books as floss for his incoming teeth. His energy is boundless and his fear is non-existent. Each night he comes home with a new bruise or boo-boo from his latest climbing adventure

Last night, during dinner, Rory discovered the uncharted territory of goober diving. And you just know he is totally gonna be one of those kids who just pops a fresh one in his mouth.

Laying on the floor is an instant trigger for a wrestling match. Rory, also known as, Macho Man Randy Savage does a flying leap and jumps on top of you,with a fit of giggles to follow, and then slams you in the face with a hand as if to say “snap into a slim Jim, bitch.”

Listen lady, you kids come from the same genetic makeup, how can you be so widely different?? Talk about a nature vs. nurture debate. Dear science, I think I have the answer.

Top notch marketing

We left yesterday to take the kids on an overnight trip to buffalo. Our first stop was the galleria mall. Since school is starting soon for Cardin we decided to hit up the mall and get some fall clothes to outfit her.

Plus tank has once again outgrown all his clothes. Likely due to the excessive quantity of food he shovels into his mouth, but then again, at least I’m not fighting to get him to eat.

While we were perusing the shops in the mall, I came across this sign.

Listen lady, this might be better than a HUGE BABY SALE. People are totally free at this event! Top notch marketing.

Spoons

You know those moments when your kids do something wrong and you are too far away or there are too many obstacles in your way to get to them so you resort to shouting, in your slow motion voice, “Noooooooooooooooooo”.

This is our life with Rory. Mr curiosity touches everything and is afraid of nothing. I’m convinced that, given the opportunity, my son would hunt small game with his bare hands, squeeze it to death, and then taste test it. All with a smile on his face. Not just any smile, a devilish grin. Like, I totally know how to manipulate you bitch and I’m going to pull out every ace, until you fold.

Take for example, this weekend. Cardin is using the potty and Rory slips through our grasp and takes off running; wielding a large serving spoon. I’m already shouting “noooooo” even though I don’t yet know the results, but I’m a mom, so predicting a disaster is part of my job. Before either Brett or I can chase him down and navigate through the minefield of toys he has already jammed the spoon into the toilet full of pee.

Cardin finds this hysterical, Rory is grinning ear to ear as he stirs his pee potion, and Brett just says “ewww”. I hang my head, knowing that my future with this boy is nothing short of these reoccurring episodes of pure chaos; and then I fish the spoon out of the toilet.

Just another day at the Mayer house.

HUGE BABY SALE

That’s right folks, I’m selling a huge baby! Just one. The baby is related to fuccillo.

Listen lady, I’m advertising all over town about my ginormous baby sale next week. Come on out, there will be circus performers and lion wranglers. And by this I totally mean I’ll be the fool dancing around while I tame Rory from running rampant into the street or taking a bite out of any guest.

This weekend I started sorting through baby clothes that I’ve been saving, like newborn baby clothes. I pulled out the newborn onesies and, holy batman those things are tiny. For a second I got a twinge of desire to have another little cuddly frog baby to hold.

You forget just how tiny a newborn is until you compare to Rory the tank…just as he whips a little people pig at your head and beats you with his plastic hammer. Rest assured folks, my tiny twinge went away really fast.

Cardin is finding it hard to part with many of her old outfits and spent a good part of the weekend squeezing her non-existent butt into pants that were clearly too tight and then rested mid calf. She went out to the store and a family party, dressed to the nines, in sporting some older clothes that clearly didn’t fit. Sometimes I feel like I should put a note on her that reads, “I didn’t dress her today” and then other times I feel like it’s pretty self explanatory.

Know no boundary!

Listen lady….we finally got new neighbors. The house next door has been empty for nearly two years and we’d hope a nice family with some kids would move in; someone who would care for the house and maintain the exterior. It’s worse than you imagine folks.

A family did move in, but it’s not quite the “nuclear family” we anticipated. Dad, in his 50’s, lives there with his two daughters and grandson. Not bad, until you factor in that one daughter is 25 and the other is 4. The son is 5. Correct-o. Normally, I wouldn’t mind this, except that the kids don’t quite understand boundaries as they are constantly in our yard or attempting to enter our screened in garage when the door is up.

This isn’t kosher with us. We don’t mind the kids playing together on occasion, with actual adult supervision, which is another area that seems to be lacking, but I digress. What we dislike is the kids popping over and showing up like unwanted pimples; especially when their caretakers consider it free babysitting.

Since the weather has been nice, the neighbors have been outside nearly everyday when I get home with the kids and they practically tackle us like linebackers as I haul in the bags and two dangling children.

We have revamped our outside playing strategy. We used to primarily play in the front yard, but now we play in the back as we have bushes and trees that afford us more privacy.

Perhaps this is selfish of us, but I truly believe the kids should be invited over to play before they make an unwelcome visit and we shouldn’t be responsible for watching them all the time. Brett and I both work all day, by the time we get home, finish dinner, and do a bath, we are only afforded a short window of playtime with the kids each night before they need to go to bed.

This is a difficult topic to broach with Cardin. She wants to play with them because they are her age and well….quite frankly, she doesn’t know better. Listen lady, my instinct, as I see them climbing 8 foot ladders and running into the street with oncoming traffic zipping down the road, is to hide her and Rory away in a closet.

In other news…. Brett and I have started to look for a new house.