We get home and put both children down for a nap because we desperately need to recoup from the episode that just happened in public. Lincoln's usual routine for naps now that he's in a toddler bed consists of playing for five minutes and then falling asleep on the floor. Well that day he decided to mix it up by removing his diaper, pooping on the floor, and then painting a mural on the wall with his new art medium. Then he gets into bed while leaving traces of poo on the wood of the bed as he climbs in. He then sleeps and awakens with now crusted-on crud on his hands. Not the scene I was hoping to find after I came out of my shower. I was emotionally spent after cleaning him and his room.
But Saturday was a new day right? Nah, my kids decided to keep things interesting. After playing an amazing soccer game in the morning, Beckett sits at the table for the post-game snack. A few minutes later he decides he's ready to leave, and stands near the exit gate. I tell him not to leave the gated area, turn for two seconds to help Lincoln, and Beckett's out of sight. He ran all the way around the building towards the parking lot...cue mommy panic attack. We leave after having ANOTHER conversation about obedience.
The rest of the day was actually quite pleasant being spent at parties and with friends. Just as Jeremy and I are getting into bed that night, we hear Lincoln start screaming. He then proceeds to have his worst yet bout of 'night terrors' lasting over 30 minutes. If you aren't familiar, it is when a child is stuck in a dream-like terrified state where they can't stop crying/screaming, and they won't open their eyes and can't hear you trying to calm them. You basically have to stay with them until they cry themselves awake, because nothing you do will stir them out of this state. I've noticed with him that he tends to have them on days where he ate a lot of sugar (thanks a lot birthday cake).
Sometimes you just have to laugh.
"Is this real life?"
