Athlete's Crotch?

Why we bother to buy our kids toys is beyond me.  When they play, they always choose something that was never intended for entertainment.  A flashlight, a water bottle, a toilet paper tube.  Not items you find on a shelf in the toy department anywhere.

PlayfulPam made up a new game today.  She took her Dada's sock, a dryer sheet and a wind-up Eeyore toy and stuff it all in her underwear, then ran around the house.  My little girl is stuffing her panties.  

Her Dada and I both hope that sock was clean.

Much Better!

A couple of weeks ago, GracelessGretta fell down and scraped her elbow at school.  I was upset about it because none of the teachers noticed this.  Half her damn elbow is missing skin and no one sees this?  I complained to the owner.

In true 3-year old fashion, she refused to keep a band-aid on it.  In true dirty-kid-wound fashion, the damn thing got infected and developed a pus pocket.  Mr. Awesomeness was left with the honors of pinning her down to clean that out.  Hurk!

It's finally healed (thanks StaphAseptic!) but now she's done a 180 with her stance on band aids.  Now she Must. Have. One.  Not only have we created a band aid monster, but now she wants all of her boo-boos kissed. 

Much better!  Thank you!

She even wants us to kiss the ones on her tushie.  (No, we don't kiss her butt.)

She also clutches her arm protectively whenever her Dada approaches her now.  Yikes!  It doesn't help that I giggle at this...  She clasps her little hand over her elbow owie and asks him in this little pitiful voice, "Is it much better?"  He has to reassure her every day that it, in fact, is much better.

Hope that blows over soon.

What's That Shiny Sharp Thing?

If my son could type, this is what he would blog about today:

6:30 a.m. Yaaaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwwwwwwnnnnn!  I'm not ready to get up.  Oh man, there's that old lady again.  Where's Mama going?  WWWWAAAAAAAAHHHH!

12:30 p.m. Hey!  It's Mama!! Mama!  Mama!  Why are you putting clothes on me?  I hate clothes.  I. Don't. Want. Clothes.  I'll wiggle around and be a noodle so I don't have to get clothes on.  Drat.  She's stronger than me.  Where are we going?

1:30 p.m. What's this room?  It has a cool picture of a doggy thing on the wall.  What's this padded bench thing?  Ooooooh!  Crinkly paper!

1:35 p.m. Who are you and why are you sticking that doohickey on my head?  Yeah, you better run away.

1:40 p.m. Now who's this person?  Why are you putting that cold thing on my chest?  Get that thing outta my ear!!  Oh, now you're gonna shine a light in my eye?  Well, let me tell ya lady, I......are you taking my diaper off?  DO. I. KNOW. YOU?  Oh, now you're gonna run away?

1:42 p.m. Oh?  Back for more forehead doohickey lady?  Well, let me tell you, I've had just about enough of.........OH MY GOD!  I just got stabbed in the leg.  OH MY GOD!  I just got stabbed in the other leg.  Mama!  Waaaaaahhhh!  I want up!  OH MY GOD!  That bitch just stabbed me in the arm!  Get me outta here, I'm under attack!  OH MY GOD!  She just got the other arm!  You're not even trying to fight her off.  Some mother you are.

Beauty Cabinet

Well, I messed up big time today. I got all exhausted and took a nap. What was I thinking? I wake up to Mr. A standing over me holding a huge wad of SallyScissorHands's hair. Ugh.

She climbed up onto the bathroom sink and proceeded to give herself a haircut. After she was done, she took all of the items out of the medicine cabinet and had them scattered all around her. When he walked in on her she was simultaneously applying Chap Stick and deodorant.

Pretty hair Dada! Pretty hair!

Lava Zombie

LavaLarry has been running a fever for the last 2 days. It finally broke last night, thank goodness, but sick babies = glued to mommy. I feel incredibly bad for my babies when they don't feel good but that doesn't mean I want to spend all my time wearing them.

Now, he won't sleep.

He'll scream his head off for 3 hours.

He'll toss his bottle onto the floor and smack my hands for trying to give it to him.

He'll slide off my lap onto the floor then scream louder because he just figured out he can't be on my lap and the floor at the same time.

He'll claw my arms, chest and neck and then get all indignant when I have to put him down because I can't take it anymore.

He'll finally cry himself out, but then wake up every 2 minutes or so to continue crying for about 30 seconds before passing out again.

But sleep? Nope. What sense would that make?

Decisions, Decisions

This is the nightly dinner conversation with HerRoyalPickiness:

Me: What do you want for dinner PickyPatty?
PP: Cheese!
Me: You can't just eat cheese. What else do you want?
PP: Cheese!
Me: What do you want with your cheese? Noodles? Bread?
PP: No. No noodles. No bread.
Me: Then no cheese.
PP: WWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!
Me: Those are your choices if you want cheese for dinner.
PP: CCCCCHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSEEEEEE!
Me: No.
PP: 'Roni cheese.
Me: What, honey? I can't hear you.
PP: 'Ro-o-o-o-o-o-o-ni ccccchhhheeeeeeeeeeeessssse. Waaaaaaahhhhh!
Me: *Bangs head against wall.* (I heard if you do that long enough you can actually burn calories.) Do you want macaroni and cheese?
PP: Yeah.
Me: *fixes mac 'n cheese* Here you go!
PP: Nnnnooooo!!!! No want 'roni cheese.
Me: *Bangs head against wall.* (I'll be a size 2 before you know it.) Too bad honey. This is what I fixed because you said you wanted it.
PP: Cccccccchhhhhhhheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeessssssseeeeee!
Me: Yep. 'Roni and cheese. Just what you asked for.
PP: Nnnnnnnoooooooo! Waaaaaaahhhhh!
Me: It'll be on your table if you get hungry.

10 minutes later:
PP: *eating macaroni and cheese*
Me: What do you want with your mac 'n cheese? Applesauce? Peaches?...
PP: Cheese, please.
Me: *slowly backs out of the room*

Backfire!

Don't lie to your kids. They might not have the reasoning skills to process the information you're giving them correctly. They will also supplement their lack of reasoning with imagination. Or even worse, they might just take you literally.

We're sticklers for teaching our children to clean their own messes. MissMess has been cleaning up her toys since she could walk to the toy bin. When it comes to the bathtub, we have a tub toy bin and we ask her to collect her toys and put them away before leaving the tub.

Unfortunately, she's not always compliant with these requests and we're completely stubborn about her doing this every time. So, at some point, Mr. Awesomeness felt it was a good idea to tell her that if she doesn't pick up her toys, they'll get sucked down the drain with the water.

I forget this and often pull the plug on the tub before even requesting that she clean up. The screams can be heard around the neighborhood. She frantically scrambles, crying, for every toy. Because she's freaking out, though, she doesn't always make it into the bin with the toy before moving on to the next.

So all that time I spend getting her calmed down with a nice, warm, fun bath is for nothing. Now I'm dealing with a frantic, crying mess. Way to go Dada.

Dammit!

This is PattyPottyMouth's new word in the car. It's my fault because it just slips out. When we're driving along and I hear a *click* I know that she's unbuckled her seat belt. Dammit!

When she drops her breakfast on the floor of the car. Dammit!

When she unbuckles herself to pick it up and eat it anyway. Dammit!

It's been overused. I'm really trying very hard to stifle the word, but it's already caught on. She just says it randomly and throughout the entire car trip.

We hit a bump. Dammit!

We brake too hard. Dammit!

We turn too quickly. Dammit!

Happy Birthday!

SaberTooth had his first birthday. I can't believe it's already been a year. Well, sometimes. Other times, I can't believe he's not ready for college yet.

1 Year Ago

Today

Hardly looks like the same kid. Anyway, happy birthday little SaberTooth!

Open Up And Say NNNNNOOOOOO!!

Monday was ToothyTina's first visit to a dentist. We've been getting a lot of pressure to take her to a pediatric dentist, but we thought we'd try to take her to the family dentist first. I don't know what advantages there are to the pediatric dentist, but I don't want to end up sitting in a place where some bozos are wearing clown suits and singing "Skip To My Lou" to drown out the drill.

So, in case you were wondering, this is exactly what I think of when someone mentions pretty much anything that caters strictly to children.

She was actually having a great time. There was a cool fountain in the waiting area that she looked at for quite some time. She also had a lot of fun comparing leaves on the plants. There was a cool video about tooth decay playing on a flat screen. A bobble head with braces. The staff was really nice to her and she was enjoying their company. The dentist even came out and asked her name and how old she was. She wasn't shy at all to tell him anything.

When it's time for her to go back to the room, Dada takes her back and all anyone hears is....
"NNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!"

Do you wanna brush the big play teeth?
"NNNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

Do you wanna....
"NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

I had an appointment at the same time. I could hear cries followed by the assistants all running up and down the hall clucking, "She's crying. She won't even let Amy count her teeth."

Meanwhile, I'm slinking further down in my chair. I didn't expect her to love it there, but I was kinda hoping that someone would at least get a good look at her teeth. I don't think she has cavities, but I'd like a professional observation on that.

On the way out, she's got her little goody bag full of non-candy prizes. I ask her on the way home, "Did you like the dentist?" She says, "I luvva dentist!" We need to work on her definition of the word "luvva."

The good news: they didn't charge me for her visit. Pretty nice!

No Blue House

It's beginning. SchoolGirlSally doesn't want to go to school. I really thought that the novelty wouldn't wear off until she went to grade school, but she's done.

AwesomeMom: We're going to the blue house (her name for the school).
SchoolGirl: No. No blue house.
AwesomeMom: Don't you want to play with your friends?
SchoolGirl: No. No play.
AwesomeMom: Oooookay. Don't you want to color pictures and sing songs.
SchoolGirl: No. No color. Go to Wal-Mart!
AwesomeMom: You want to go to Wal-Mart?
SchoolGirl: Yeah! Go to Wal-Mart

So, my kid would rather go to Wal-Mart than preschool. That's beyond sad.

That's Disgusting! or Look At Me! I'm A Total Copycat!

I was reading someone else's blog just a minute ago. They listed the top 5 most disgusting things their kids ever ate. I guess I was imagining something horrific based on my experience with my own GarbagePailKids. I was disappointed that her list contained nothing but food items. I'm also ashamed to admit that I have eaten 2 of those items and think a 3rd actually sounded good.

So, in true copycat fashion, here's my top 5 disgusting things I've seen my kids eat:

1. Rug strings. I may have mentioned a few times that we have a shag rug. My preschooler enjoys picking those strings out, wadding them into a ball, and chewing on them. Now I can't say for sure that she actually swallows them, but I can say that it wouldn't surprise me.
2. Foam letters. The kind that you buy for your kids to stick to the bathroom wall. Alone, they are unusual food items, but not terribly disgusting. Until you consider that little kids piss in the tub all the time. My little kids especially.
3. Cat hair. Both my kids have done this. They don't even wait for the hair to die of natural causes and fall off the cat. They just grab a handful right off the kitty and jam it right into their mouth.
4. Toy cars. The wooden kind. My kids are part beaver I think.
5. Dead bugs. Needs no clarification.