It has become apparent that mothering three children is impossible.
See, I *thought* Oliver was 16 months today.
He's 15 months.
How did I skip an entire month?
I can't keep it straight.
Beyond that, Oliver thinks his name is "Oliver, Oliver!" Because he is usually far enough away from me, when he begins his shenanigans, that I have to cry, "OLIVER! OLIVER!" as I am launching myself in his direction, trying to get him to stop whatever illicit behavior he's engaging in.
So, like I said. Once your child-que hits three, keeping up is virtually impossible. Now, to be clear, I have known this since the day Oliver was born, but still, it's kind of a bummer.
But, for the record, Oliver is only 15 months old. NOT 16.
And his name is NOT "Oliver Oliver!" It's just plain Oliver.
Glad I cleared that up.