Ballerinas, Tantrums, Tampons, Poop and Ladies

First off, I'd like to say to Spencer, I can't believe you have me listed under "Family" and not under "Cool People." That hurts. Jerk.

Secondly, we just finished another exciting second weekend of November, where my husband proved that he is the strongest and most secure man in the world. Last weekend, Mark donned his tights, lined his eyes, dusted off his ballet shoes, and pointed his toes in his ninth fall performance with Blue Springs Ballet. He showcased his freakish strength by lifting many girls, some of whom had lifted many ho-hos (I'm serious. Ask Sharel how big that girl was). Also, I made his costume this year and he looked so good in it. So, now we get to relax until next year when the whirlwind of rehearsals, costume fittings and tantrums from emotional ballerinas who've soothed their feelings with a truckload of doritos (I should have gotten the lead this year! It's not fair!) continues.

Thirdly, Brick is in his tantrum phase, so I spend most of my days wishing I drank something stronger than Diet Dr. Pepper. Nearly everyday when he wakes up from his nap he screams for about 30 minutes or until I am able to distract him into calming down. It goes something like this:
From his crib in Brick talk, "Mooooommm! I'm up now! Come get me!"
I go into the room. "Hey, mom. How's it goi...wait a minute. You left me in here to sleep and I have just remembered that you are the worst mom ever. And, I know you aren't going to nurse me when you get me out of here." I walk towards him and reach down to pick him up. He pushes my hands away. "Don't touch me! I hate you! Get out of my room!" I back away and say, "All right, if you aren't ready to get out then I will leave." Then he screams, "Where are you going? Get me out of here! No! Don't touch me! I hate you!" It goes on like this until I walk out and shut the door (at which point he starts saying words that shouldn't be repeated) or until I just pick him up and set him on the floor. Once I do get him out and put him down he screams for me to pick him up and the screams for me to put him down and then throws in more stuff about how he hates me and I have ruined his life. It is a vicious cycle that was only interrupted today because Mailee threw her ballet skirt over his head and yelled, "Where'd Bricky go?" and then he started laughing. Bless her for her distractions.

Fourthly, Brick is now into everything. He likes to pull the underwear out of my drawers and play with the toilet brush. He likes to turn the hot water on in the tub and crawl under the sink. He pulls shirts off hangers and bowls out of drawers. But, his absolute favorite thing to do is play with feminine hygiene products. He likes to pull tampons out of the box and string them all over the upstairs. Then he likes to go back and pick them up and put them back in the box. Repeat process. Thankfully, he has not yet figured out how to unwrap them.

Lastly, Mailee is such a lady. Last night we had burrito/haystacks for dinner. She finished her burrito and proudly proclaimed, "Mother, I ate all my burrito!"
"Good job, Mailee. I am so proud of you!" I said. "Good job!" Mark said between bites.
"It just went into my stomach," she said. "That's right," I said. Mark grunted. Brick made the sign for "more" (he just learned it!) and I gave him more rice.
"Now it's just going into my bottom," she giggled. "And I'm going to have to go potty again soon," she sang it out. "Ok, Mailee," I said. "Yeah, it's going to come out poopy and I'm going to sit down and go uhhnnnn," she grunted like she was going to the potty.
Mark piped up from his end of the table. "Mailee, that is not appropriate dinner conversation. We don't talk about poop at the table." She looked at him for a minute and I believe she actually sighed. Then she turned to me and said, "Mother, can I have another burrito?"