the twenty-sixth

Ms. Demi,

Happy Third Birthday!!!!!
Today, three years ago, our lives changed. And while there are times where I would gladly post you in the freebies section of Craig's List, you have given me gifts that I can never repay. Never.

Someday you will read this blog and will probably disown me for a few months, maybe even years. But I hope this blog shows you how much humor frustration you have brought to our lives. You have shown me things that I could never imagine. You have taught me things about myself and about life that one cannot learn by reading a book or taking a class or browsing the interwebs. As my child,
I am your mother, but you my sweet,
darling, amazing girl, are my teacher.
Thank you.

Happy Birthday!


the twenty-fifth

They are a year now, so their antics are now open for blogging.....have to make it a fair game. Might as well embarrass all of them so that the level of hatred is even among my children.

They are drunk gnomes. Drunk wandering gnomes. The act of walking is so exciting to them. So much so that they usually fall because they are so happy. Wow, I wish I remembered when life was so simple.
I had been threatening to push them down swoop them up when they took their first steps, as it would be an official sign of my life ending. Over. No longer mine. Complete.madness. But so far it's not that bad. It could be worse.

As a result of their decision (or mother natures decision) to walk, our house has become a bit like Fort Knox. Gates, locks, guards, special passwords, handshakes...well maybe the last few are a stretch, but you catch my drift.

Nothing is safe. The other day they pulled down the round side table. Let me repeat that,...... they pull down the the round side table. While no one was hurt, the loud crash did not deter them much. They were back at it within minutes. I have affectionately named them Hummingbird Moving Company (thank you Becky C) because they rearrange the kitchen chairs (yes, you are reading that correctly), push or shove on anything that is in their way and when there is no movement they get so so so so frustrated. I laugh at them which just seems to fuel their fire. Awesome.

When gates block their entry, they shake it back and forth. If you impede their forward motion, you'd better watch yourself. They are one year old and they are bad to the bone. Holler!

the twenty-fourth

She will be three and she still poops her pants. Not little cute turds. We are talking emptying bowels....yes, it's disgusting. She is just about potty trained with peeing, but pooping...OMG...she is a challenging child. Lord help me and forgive me for all my sins. I surrender.

When I was a kid we had a dog who ate the crotch out of dirty underwear....again, yes, it was just plain disgusting. He was obsessed...he was a strange dog. Anyhow, in an attempt to get him not to eat the underwear, we would tie the underwear around his neck. It was supposed to shame him. However, looking back I think it probably did the opposite. He flaunted his "treasure" (barf) for the world to see. I don't remember if the technique worked, but it certainly has potential.

The point of this is, she had just finished telling screaming that she did not have to go on the POTTY!!!  At the time I was just not in the mood to deal with it. Fine. Get of the potty and go play in the street (just kidding...sorta). Minutes later.....she emptied herself. I mean every ounce was no longer in her body and was in her underwear. Awesome. Women with teenage daughters sent them on over for a little lesson we will call birth control.

I saw red. All red. Will this ever end? Will she be pooping her pants till she is in school and kids make fun of her? Will she be know as the poopy girl? Will I make it through this? I have two more kids to potty train...
After feeling secure that I was not going to strangle her. I took her upstairs and cleaned her up. While I was holding back the urge to gag, I was doing a quick list (I heart lists. Physical and mental lists) of the tactics we has already tried and have not tried. While some techniques might work they probably are too mean and not very sanitary (don't ask), but that stupid dog and his underwear eating came to my mind.....let's face it some times lists lead us in the wrong direction.
With all the noise and the extremely nosy-tattle tail neighbor I won't be surprised when child protective services comes 'a knocking. And something tells me it won't go to well when she skips to the CPS agent with shitty underwear around her neck. I can picture it now.....she will tell the agent "my mommy put my poopy panties around my neck." I'll be in the background disheveled, red faced with a glass of chard....mom of the year.