T-minus 13 days until we move into our townhouse.
And I have 3 boxes packed.
I packed up our dishes, the picture frames off the walls, and our kitchen appliances.  Apparently my brain forgot that we have to eat the next 13 days.  So we’ll be eating out of saucepans.
With spatulas.
For the next 2 weeks, because I am NOT unpacking again.

My brain also forgot that packing is a gigantic waste of time with a 2 year old and a newborn.  The only time I can pack is when both of them are napping.
Which is never.
And trying to pack while the almost 2 year old wants to play is dangerous.  I’m in the kitchen, packing up the toaster and other appliances and Little S comes up to me and starts his usual, “Mommy. Mommy.  Mom.  Hi.  Mom.  Mama.  Mama.  Mommy.  A Goat?”
“Not now, Little S.  Go show Rae how you race your cars! She’d love that!”
Not even 30 seconds later I hear “OOOOH!”
“Whatcha doin’, bud?”
And I peek my head over the unusually high “breakfast bar” (aka, storage for all our crap) in our apartment and see Little S just looking at the “dining room” (aka, 4 square feet next to our living room) wall.
With a bright blue pen in hand.
And COLORING THE WALL.
The white wall…

Now, I’m not shocked.  Kids, color on the walls.  But why did MY kid have to color on the wall?! 2 weeks before we’re about to move?!
So then when nap time finally DID come around, I ended up spending it attempting to get all the pen markings off the wall.

I’m about at the point where it would just make sense to just throw away EVERYTHING we own and buy new stuff.  In all actuality the only things we really need are diapers.  Diapers and food.  And caffeine.  Caffeine is pretty much the only things I get to consume while Big S is at work.
I’m back on Weight Watchers to start working on losing this baby weight and this is pretty much what my tracking looks like everyday.

Then Big S gets home and it looks like this.

Side note, to earn one glass of wine I have to run 2 miles to give myself the extra points for it.  Ridiculous.

But on the bright side, we did accomplish something HUGE yesterday.
We went to the grocery store.  Both children.  By myself.  And there were no meltdowns.  Now, that may be because I bribed Little S with a piece of Easter candy and my iPhone.  Whatever, judge me all you want.  I will always keep candy in my diaper bag to distract from a meltdown.  Either for myself or Little S.  I’m sure everyone at Giant would much rather see my toddler happily eating a few gummy bears, talking to me about every single ballon he sees, than to see both of us sobbing on the floor.

Then on the way home he says “Ready. Set. GO!”
Alright, I’ll play along.  “Who are we racing, Little S?”
“A quee!” (Translation: A pig.  Don’t ask.  I have no idea.)
“A pig?”
“A quee!”
Well okay then.

Then I ask him
“Little S, who is your best friend?”
“MAMA!”
“Who else?”
“My baby!”
“Baby Rae?  That’s so sweet!  Who else?  Daddy?  Amelie?  Nathan?”
“A goat.”
Apparently all Little S thinks about in the car is farm animals.

These tiny little conversations with Little S give me little glimmers of hope, like maybe my son will one day use words instead of tantrums and/or incomprehensible blabbering.  Now, granted, the conversations may always be about cars and farm animals, but I can take that if the tantrums stop.

Also, caught these little moments that make me pretty optimistic that my son isn’t always going to be a terror energetic.  Yeah…let’s go with energetic.