Catching Up

I'm just feeling all stuck up from winning the Worst Mom In The Universe award or something.  Two things have happened over the course of the last couple of weeks that I've almost completely neglected to write about:

1. Happy 2nd Birthday to Count Crybaby

I know I mentioned it in passing in another post, but I thought it was worth it's own announcement.  The day was fun.  We went grocery shopping and almost forgot to pick up a cake.  Ugh, I suck at this.

2. First Day of Preschool for Count Crybaby

The very first chance we got, we enrolled him in preschool.  He is still really excited to get dressed and leave the house.  So far he hasn't cried when we've dropped him off and his teachers are still gushing over what a cute little boy he is, so it all seems to be going well.  We'll see how they feel when he has one of his super-whiny, clingy days.

I should be expecting a call...

Yeah...the backpack vest-thing was not our first choice, but we couldn't find any other little backpack for him.  He seems to like running around in it though, so maybe it's a keeper.

The Laws Of Ownership

Over the weekend, BillyBirthdayBoy amassed himself a good little stockpile of brand new toys.  I don't know how other families work, but the boundaries of "ownership" in our house are a little fuzzy.  Whenever we get toys, we try to keep both of our kids in mind, as they both end up equally claiming everything.

I thought maybe TashaToySnatcher was old enough to start grasping the concept of personal possessions, so we were working on the "these toys belong to Billy" lessons.  Yesterday morning, we were playing with some of the toys before her brother woke up. Apparently, she knows something I don't though, as per this conversation:

TashaToySnatcher: Oh, boy!  I love my new fire engine Mama!!
Awesomeness: BillyBirthdayBoy got those yesterday for his birthday; they belong to him.
TashaToySnatcher: *Looks down at the toy in her hand and thinks for a minute.* No, Mama.  This toy no brother's.  He's sleeping.

The lesson: Ownership begins and ends with consciousness.

The Birthday Tree

Today is Count Crybaby's second birthday.  I asked his sister what she wanted to do to celebrate.  Her answers:

We sing "Happy Birthday".  We hab presents.  And we put the presents unner the tree!

A tree?

Yeah, we put brudder's presents unner the tree!

Anyone know where I can pick up a birthday tree? 

Smells Like Kid Spirit

The kids woke up while I was getting ready for work.  I was already running late, so I brought them into my bedroom with me and just let them play around.  They love to bounce on my bed and were keeping each other company.  It was going great, until I hear:

SoniaSnifferson: Mama, you smell sumpin?
Awesomeness: ....Nooooooo....what do you smell?
SoniaSnifferson: It smell like danger.
Awesomeness: ......   ?   Did you say danger?
SoniaSnifferson: Yeah, it smell like danger.

I turned my head to ask her what she's talking about and see my son dangling off the edge of my bed.  I'm not too alarmed since his feet are only 6 inches off the ground, but little Sonia felt that she needed to sound the alarm.

Another crisis averted thanks to my danger-sniffing daughter.

Quotes From The Week

This last week I've been on vacation.  That means I've spent most of my waking moments with my destructive, back-talking maniacs sweet angel children. Here are my favorite quotes from the week courtesy of WandaWordsmith:

Tuesday:

We took her in for a speech evaluation (finally, I know) where she was walked through a series of pictures and she was asked to discern whether the pictured item was a food or a toy.  She did spectacularly; she only missed one:

[Orange]
Wanda: It's a toy.
SpeechEvaluator: No, that one's an orange.  It's a food...
Wanda: No, orange is a toy.  It's for juggling.

Wednesday:

When I opened her door in the morning, I noticed that she was clutching her blanket.  A guilty expression crossed her face for a split second, then she hands it to me.

Wanda: It's wet Mama.
Awesomeness: *drops the blanket to the floor* How did it get wet?  Did you peepee your bed?
Wanda: NO!!  I NOT PEEPEE!!!
Awesomeness: How did it get wet then?
Wanda: You see my woody?
Awesomeness: ?!
Awesomeness: ...
Awesomeness: *finally understands...gimme a break, it was 5:30 in the morning* You're missing your Cowboy Woody doll?
Wanda: Yeah.
Awesomeness: Does that have something to do with why your blanket is wet?
Wanda: Yeah.
Awesomeness: Are you saying that Woody peepeed your blanket?
Wanda: Yeeeeeeeaaaaaaaah....

Thursday:

She was having...health issues.  For the sake of sparing you all, I will insinuate only that a) yes, indeed, the word "explosive" can be applied to her...health issue when it appears on every square inch of the bathroom b) it took 1/2 a container of Clorox wipes to get my bathroom right again c) it took a half hour long shower for me to feel clean again after wiping it all up d) I still won't walk barefoot across the floor. Bleh!

While the massive clean up effort was going on I asked her to wait for me in the bathtub, because she was going to get hosed down next.  She kept trying to get out and finally I'd had enough:

Awesomeness: You stay in that bathtub and don't try to get out again, young lady!
Wanda: No!!  I not a lady anymore!
Awesomeness: *looked down at the 5 more gallons of...health issues...I still needed to clean up* Yeah.  I would say that's pretty accurate right now.

Friday:

Mr. A and I were just discussing the pleasant prospect of dealing with a no nap baby for the next 5 hours.  The kid got up late, he's eaten like a shark all day and has been running around playing like a normal kid (for once...).

Mr. A: Still no nap, huh?
Awesomeness: No.  You know he'll pull that dick move where he wants to nap 2 hours before bedtime.
Mr. A: Should be fun!
Mr. A (to NoNapNorman): You will stay awake until bedtime, child!
Wanda: You calm down now, Daddy.
Mr. A: ...
Mr. A: I'm just going to walk away.

The Kids' Room

RonnieRoommate, you've been in our bedroom now for almost 2 years.  I mean really, that's 20 years in Grown-Ups-Who-Don't-Want-To-Share-Rooms-With-Babies time.  I think you were a couple of weeks away from studying for your college entrance exams.  It was time.

Yesterday your Dada and I spent most of the day reorganizing your sister's room to get your bed in there.  We crammed the dresser and the bookshelf in the closet (seriously, these kids have a bigger closet than I do, it would make you sick), we finished putting up outlet covers and put a door knob cover on the closet door so we wouldn't wake up to a million books and articles of clothing everywhere.

We were ready for a battle when we took you upstairs.  You've been in Mama's room so long that I wasn't sure you could even fall asleep anywhere else.  I was convinced that you were going to throw a fit that could be heard halfway around the world.

I got you in bed and you fussed a little.  I read Mickey and the Beanstalk and you calmed down a bit.  Time for the real test: lights out.

Not a peep.

We turned on the baby monitor, convinced that you were scaling the walls.

Not a peep.

We changed the batteries in the baby monitor, because they were obviously bad.

Not a peep.

Stupid defective baby monitor, I think it's garbage....

Then we hear: "Yaaaaaaaawn" from RonnieRoommate.

Followed by ShirleyShoosher, "No, no.  No makka noise!  You s'posta be sleeping."

Sweet!

Time for some stiff drinks and Mario Party 8.  We know how to celebrate good times 'round here.

New Naptime Strategy, Part 2: The Double Whammy

Grateful Dead's Casey Jones 

Survival 101

CaveBabyCalvin doesn't talk.  He's just over a month away from his second birthday and he just grunts and cries when he wants something.  We're trying not to freak out too much about it, because his sister was pretty much the same way.

We're working with him though.  So far: we read to him, we name everything he touches, but we have also put together a collection of pictures in different categories so we can show them on our TV to CaveBaby.  He, like most kids, will pay attention to anything on the TV.

The bigger of the folders is for animals.  What kid doesn't like animals?  It turns into a family event, where even AnnieAnimalLover gets involved.  We're then able to bring up a picture and name the animal for Calvin and then discuss other facts about the animals with Annie.

Camel, buddy!  That's a camel.  He lives in the desert, Annie.

 And so on.  For whatever reason, Mr. A decided to turn tonight's picture show into an episode of Survivorman For Babies.  Then I had to be a smartass and it turned into an episode of When Good Kids Go Bad.  Here's how that played out:

Mr. A: Look! A snake!  Ssssssnake.  Annie, what do you do when you see a snake?

Annie: I dunno Daddy.

Mr. A: You run away.  You always run away from a snake.  A snake will bite you and you'll get hurt.

Annie: A snake is very ouchie.

Mr. A: That's right, so when you see a snake, you run away.

Mr. A: Spi-der.  Spi-der.  You also run away from a spider, Annie.  Run away and tell daddy when you see a spider.

Annie:  I run away from the spider.

Mr. A: Fla-min-go.  That's a flamingo.

Awesomeness: When you see a flamingo, you run away.  Flamingos are dangerous.

Annie: Oh no!  Flamingos!  I run away from flamingos.

Mr. A: *Shoots me a dirty look.*  Really?

Awesomeness: Look at them.  They're pink because they're bathed in blood. (blah, blah, blah ... because they eat shrimp ... that's not nearly as funny)

Annie: Flamingo is very ouchie.

Mr. A: That's a seahorse.  Sea-horse.

Annie: I luvva seahorse!

Mr. A: Great!  When you see a seahorse, you put a saddle on him and take him for a ride.

Awesomeness: Mine was funnier.

Mr. A: ...I think that's a monkey.

Awesomeness: It's clearly a lemur.  Look at that pizazz!  He obviously likes to move it, move it.

Mr. A: He looks like he's saying, "What's up motherfucker?!"

Awesomeness: He's saying, "I'm on the deck with my boys motherfucker."

Annie: Yeah motherfutter.

Mr. A: .... um

Awesomeness: Next picture please.

Future Therapy Sessions

Yep.  My kids are going to need some therapy when we get done with them.  Today's reason:

Every once in a while, PeggyPeePeePants will get too involved in whatever she's doing and forget to go to the bathroom until the last minute.  A year ago, we let her slide on that.  She'd just gotten the hang of going on the toilet, so we figured she needed a break.  Now, however, she's 4 years old.  She's been potty trained for well over a year now.  There's no excuse for it.

Slowly over the last year it became obvious to us that this problem wasn't resolving itself so we needed to step in.  Behaviorists we read up on had us reward her for going on the potty.  To that, I'll say, "That's not for my kid."  It just doesn't work.  We tried stickers, treats, stickers and treats, fake tattoos, extra computer time.  All sorts of fun things.  We were consistent with each reward and gave each one more than enough time to work.  Nothing.

This isn't to say that she doesn't go on the toilet the majority of the time.  She just has bad days.  Days where she goes through, on average, six pairs of underpants because she started going on her way to the toilet.  It's frustrating for her and frustrating for us.  So, when rewarding didn't work out, we tried punishment.

Time out.  STRIKE ONE.  Spanking.  STRIKE TWO. Grounding from cartoons/computer games/coloring and other enjoyable passtimes.  STRIKE THREE.  YEEEEEEER OUT!

Regrouping ... Thinking ...

Stand in the corner.  STRIKE ONE.  Make her wear her dirty panties.  EJECTED FROM THE GAME EARLY ON.  Well, shit...

Make her wear her daddy's clothes?  HOMERUN!!

This morning she peed her panties, then somehow got her dress in the toilet.  I didn't have another outfit downstairs and I wasn't about to run upstairs for another one, so I just grabbed one of her daddy's t-shirts and slapped it on her.  Listening to her carry on about it, you would think I stuck a rotting skunk carcass on the kid (you'll know I'm desperate when I actually do this).

PPPP: I don't wanna wear this.  This not a dress.  It's daddy's.
Awesomeness: Well, that's too bad honey.  You shouldn't have put your dress in the toilet.
PPPP: I wanna wear my clothes. PWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE Mama!
Awesomeness: I'll put your clothes on you when you stop sticking them in the toilet.  Until then you get to wear your daddy's shirt.
PPPP: I WANT MY CLOTHES NOW MAMA!
Awesomeness: Really?  Let's go show your daddy your new dress and see if he likes it.

I take her by her arm and lead her down the hallway to Mr. A's office.
PPPP: NO!  Dada, don't look at me!

She curls up in a little ball in the corner of the hallway to avoid being seen.

Mr. A: Huh.  She used to like wearing my shirts.
Awesomeness: Yeah, not so much anymore.  Now she's totally embarrassed to be seen in your stuff, dude.
Mr. A: I wonder if we could get her school to cooperate with her new dress code.
Awesomeness: It would probably be harder for them to keep it on her.  We could make her a special dress.  An ugly, gray one with a big red 'P' on the chest.  You know, for Pants Pisser.
Mr. A: I don't think she'd understand.  It would have to be something she doesn't like.
Awesomeness: She doesn't like meat.  We could just hang a steak around her neck.

I wonder how much therapy will cost in the year 2024...

Too Much, Ya Think?

I'm beginning to think that we allow SuzieSquarePantsFan to watch a little too much SpongeBob SquarePants.  It's been her favorite show since she was a year old and she still frequently asks to watch old episodes.  Sometimes enough is enough though...

Suzie: I wanna watch more SpongeBob.
Awesomeness: No, ma'am.  We've seen enough of him for the day.
Suzie: I wanna just watch that one SpongeBob...
Awesomeness: No.  No more Bob for the day.
Suzie: Aw, barnacles!