To The Store

The store is still a magical wonderland for SissySuperShopper.  She gets more excited about going to the store than the zoo, which is saying something.

 

You don't get to do this at the store, little girl.

Today we needed to make our monthlyish trip to Sam's Club.  "The Big Store".  She is amazingly well behaved when we go to the store.  She isn't "that kid".  You know, the whining, crying, screaming, flailing "gotta have everything I see NOW" one.  (She leaves that honor for her brother.)

This morning while we were getting ready:  

Awesomeness: Do you know where we're going today?

SissySuperShopper: THE STOOOOOOORE!

Awesomeness: Yep, the store.  What are we getting at the store.

SissySuperShopper: APPLE JUICE! OH BOY! OH BOY! APPLE JUICE!

Awesomeness: ... Okay, I guess we can get some apple juice.

SissySuperShopper: AND SOME CHIPS AND CHEEEEEEESE!

Awesomeness: ?

SissySuperShopper: YAY!YAY!YAY!YAY! Dada, are you ready to get chips and cheese?

How in the hell do you not get chips and cheese after that?

What Is That Smell?

You know any time you ever have that thought, the outcome isn't good.  It never turns out to be: "Aw!  Will ya look at that!  The kids teamed up and made me some French Toast.  They're the best kids ever."  No, when this thought first pops into my head, I know I'm in for it.  So it starts:

What is that smell?

It smells kind of mediciny.

Kind of like....diaper rash cream.

Well, that would make sense, since I did just change PeterPoopyPants.

Gosh, why is it that I can still smell this even when PPP moves away?

And why is it getting stronger and stronger by the minute?

And where is MarshaMischiefMaker?

And why is she being so quiet?

And this is where panic strikes.  Any parent can tell you of the absolute horror when your brain finally registers that your kids aren't making any noise. 

Don't worry though, it was nothing.  Just MarshaMischiefMaker painting herself and the playpen with her brother's diaper rash ointment...

I Just Don't Know

I haven't been able to (yes, yes, I'll get you some juice) write much lately and I (stop biting my arm) really don't know what the (are you okay?  where's the booboo?) problem is. 

I have (no, we don't take off our peedy diapers and put them on Mama's laptop while she's typing) plenty of time and the kids (get that basket off your brother's head!) like playing together (give your sister back her train!).

Mr. A helps keep them out of my (is it time for PerpetuallySickPetunia's medicine?) hair so I can get stuff (GET OFF THE COUNTER!!!) done.  NappyTimeNorman still takes some (SHHH! No screaming while your brother's sleeping.  Let's play in your room.) pretty good naps.

It's just so (stop using my arm as a monkey bar) amazing how lazy I've been (get off my neck, you're choking me) lately about keeping (yes, we'll watch Team Umizoomi in a minute, Mama's busy) up with my blogs.  It's, like, worse than (quit crying in my face...I said in a minute) usual lately.

Maybe (aw, do your teeth hurt little buddy?) it's because I've been (GET OUT OF THE BLINDS YOUNG LADY!) sick this last week...

I mean I feel (where's your panties?  you had them on a second ago) much better and I'm getting plenty (stop pushing the couch into your brother) of rest.  There's really nothing (PUT DOWN MAMA'S WII!) stopping me from getting anything (I hear you, I'll get you a sandwich in a minute) done.  I just need to find (do you have to go potty?) some inspiration.  I might just (NO! NOT ON THE FLOOR!  WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU!!?)...

I give up.

The Guys

The invasion is upon us.

We use Pez dispensers as a cheap, non-candy reward for PeggyPezHoarder (well, as far as she knows there's no candy) for when she behaves and doesn't beg for things in the store.  Turns out, she's the best child ever (in the store), which means that we are now overrun with, what she calls, "The Guys". 

They're in her bed, in my coffee table, under the couch, in the couch, in the entertainment center, on the stairs, in the tub, on Dada's desk, on the breakfast bar, in the mop bucket, the laundry bins...

Missing Ingredients

No matter what we're feeding FrankieFoodFiend, there's always 2 missing ingredients.  He adds them in a ritualistic fashion whenever he eats:

1. The first ingredient is hair.  Everything must be worn as a hat and smashed down flat before going on to the second ingredient...
2. Floor sprinkles.  When he's done mashing hair into his food, he drops it to the floor.  

He'll repeat this ritual until all of his food is laying on the floor, then he'll finally pick it up and eat it.

I spend a lot of money on baby shampoo and Swiffer cleaning pads.

Me Too! Me Too!

LittleLuluMeToo:  I like lollipops!

Awesomeness: You like lollipops?

LittleLuluMeToo: Me too!

*when we were playing Mario Wii*
Awesomeness: Oh, good job, you got 20 coins!

LittleLuluMeToo: Yeah, me too!

Awesomeness: Did you have fun with your friends today?

LittleLuluMeToo: Me too!  Me too, Mama!

Meet Filthy McNasty

Who is this pile of dirt with me?
That's my kid, Filthy McNasty!

She's cute underneath all the grime
It comes off for a limited time
Then back to school she goes
And from her head to her toes
She piles on crud by the pound
Leaves no speck of dust on the ground

 A walking pit of slime and pee
That's my kid, Filthy McNasty!

I Tawt I Taw A Birthday Tat!

So, the speech thing again with MissyMushMouth...She's coming along, but still has some struggles.  What she'll do sometimes is substitute words she's fairly unfamiliar with for words that sound similar.  Then, often, she will also choose to substitute those words for ... well, just words she likes better.

We're watching Looney Tunes (because I'm the best mom ever... *cough*) and it's one of the Sylvester / Tweety cartoons.  Tweety does his usual speech and MMM is fascinated.

MMM: Oooooh!  Mama, mama!  Look, he saw a birthday cat!!

Awesomeness: ... a what cat?

MMM:  Look!  It's the birthday cat!

Awesomeness:  No, sweetie he's a pus....yep, that's right, he's a birthday cat.  Good job, big girl.

Overheard Around The House

MumbleMouthMartha: *mumblemumblemumble*

Mr. Awesomeness: Speak up baby, I cant hear you.

Mumbler: Want some apple juice.

Mr. A: I can get you some apple juice in just a minute.

Mumbler: *whiiiiiiiine!*

Mr. A: Do you see this guy?  I'm going to kill this guy, then I'll get you some juice.  Okay?

Mumbler: Okay...





For the record, Mr. A plays W.O.W. and was talking about killing a cartoon character.  I'm not sure I should have to disclaim that, but you never know when a body's going to show up unexpectedly.

That Explains It

The last week or so has been particularly cruel.  SharkToothSeamus has been a screaming non-stop like he's being eviscerated.  The screams could freeze your soul.  He's not eating well, he's hardly sleeping at all.  It's been a nightmare.

Last night, I tried to keep him calm by playing with him.  I turned him upside down and he's actually laughing -- for once.  That's when I notice 8 new teeth.  8.  All at once.

This kid needs a trophy.  And some Motrin.