Centipedes are gross

So, I spent WAY TO LONG putting together the train tracks for the babies the other day, but I was proud of how simply I did it.

Sidenote: I am someone who likes the biggest and best of everything. I will always choose the most expensive thing, without even knowing the price. It is like a built in quality control button that is always going off. Luckily I pretty much shop at the thrift store and off of Craiglist (love) and I am getting better in my old age about being patient and waiting for the right price for something, rather then the other way around (buy now, pay later). I will always pull the Pottery Barn/Ralph Lauren bedding off the Goodwill rack and honestly, I am not surprised by it.

So I am doing really well with my Thomas the Train obsession. I haven't bought the roundhouse for my Mr. I also haven't bought the crane or the coal mine and I am mostly okay with my simple train table (ahem, if you are reading this and you have a roundhouse or coalmine your kids have outgrown, I will take it). I took a long while just putting the train tracks into a circle around the outside of the train table. That way they can go in a circle and it is fun to watch them.


The problem that I am having is that they don't realize how hard I work for them. They think that it is fun to take the track apart. It is best when many pieces come out at once. They also enjoy beating the crap out of each other with the tracks. And throwing the trains at each other. And standing on the table. And of course, peeing on the table. And the ground. And the bed.

My little boy baby is also having issues with his sister being very interested in what is hanging between his legs(I forget what it's called). She sees how much he enjoys playing with it, and I think might think that it is detachable. Her attempts to take it off of him have met with much resistance. It would help his cause if the boy would let me put clothing on him. He won't though, and while some children go limp, he goes limp plus 90 degrees the other way. I have never seen anything like it.

I am rambling so I am going to go now.

My kids feet smell like chicken poop and that's gross.

And oh yeah...the reason for my blog title: The Mr. put a centipede in his mouth this weekend and so I had to touch a centipede. And Ms. Rebecca came over today and found a centipede in my clean laundry bin and so now you all know what condidtion my basement is in. We sounded like small children the way we screamed. She was very manly and killed it for us though. Go Rebecca!