Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Sam's video

I wanted my MIL to see this. Sam is talking more and more and I got him to say Grandma the other day. He's so stinkin' cute. When he's not poopy. Then, he's just stinkin'.

video

So, there you have it. Proof that he speaks!

In other news, I have switched him over to his big boy bed this week. Not because I really needed to, but because his room is the smallest in the house and had so much furniture crammed in there it was making me crazy(er). So, we put him in the futon and took down the crib. There's a lot more room in there now. He does pretty well. The first time he slept there was at nap time and he just got up, checked the door and when he realized that he couldn't get out, he climbed back in and went to sleep. That night, he did great and in the morning, my little alarm clock was up at 6 sharp wandering around the house. He came in our room and pointed to the kitchen and started saying "pupper". Which means he wanted to eat. Of course. So, the only downfall so far is that I can't lay in bed until 6:15 knowing that he is awake but safe in his crib. Last night he did fall out, but we had a pillow on the edge of the bed just in case and when he fell the pillow fell first and he landed on it. I happened to be up with Katie (more on that later) and heard the thump. I never heard a peep out of him, so I went to see what happened. He was asleep on the floor on top of the pillow. It's a futon, so it's pretty low to the floor. I just put him back in and he never stirred again. Until 6.

Katie. Oh, Katie. She's gonna be 4 in a couple months and I was wondering if it was time to try to get her out of her night-time diaper. So, we bought some pull-ups and made the required big deal about her big girl bedtime panties. She was really excited. I told her that I was going to wake her up later and take her to the potty. She said okay. Until that time came. She screamed and screamed and never went potty. The next morning, her pull-up was soaked through and then some. Last night, I tried again. This time she didn't scream as much, but she still wasn't happy. She sat there for about 30 minutes telling me she couldn't go because her "butt wasn't used to it". I tried everything. Running water, soothing relaxation, threats, bribes, you name it. Finally, I gave up and took her back to bed and put a regular diaper on her. She WAS NOT happy about getting a "baby diaper". She wailed and wailed. She would not calm down. At about 3 am, she was still crying and woke Audrey up. She was telling Audrey all about the injustices done upon her and Audrey finally got her to calm down. Then they talked for another hour. I finally got them settled back down. Then around 4:30, Audrey came in saying she couldn't go back to sleep. Sheesh! I got her back to sleep around 5. I went back to bed finally and then Sam, regular as a clock, woke us up at 6. It's gonna be a loooong day! Audrey was not in the best mood this morning as you can imagine. Katie got to sleep in and apparently is holding no grudges this morning. Now the question is--do I try again tonight? Or do I let her wear diapers to bed until she's 16?

Thursday, November 12, 2009

New name?

Since my days are mostly consumed by my children, my blog reflects this. What happens when my days are spent covered in poo? I have written several times about Sam and his incredible exploding diapers. Lately it has gotten worse again. For a while things were slowing down and he was only sharing about 5 or 6 poopy diapers a day with me. But Lord! In the last few weeks, he is back to exploding and providing me with at least 10 crazily soiled diapers a day! I can't even take it. Last night, in the restaurant where we were trying to have a relaxed family meal, he literally runneth over into the high chair within a nanosecond of my meal being served. I covered him with a cloth napkin-I'm quite sure they won't want it back-and sprinted out the door. I only had an extra sweatshirt in the car, no pants, so after getting him cleaned up I took him back in half naked and tried to finish my meal. By then of course the kids were all done eating and getting extremely restless and my food was mostly cold, but oh, well. I swear, this kid's bowels are from Hell. So, in honor of my son and his nasty habits I'm thinking of re-naming this blog. Here are some that I have considered: The Diarrhea Diaries--too much alliteration I think.; The Poo Manifesto; The Butt Blogs--sounds like a porn flick; Memoirs of a Poo-filled Life...I could go on, but I think you get the point. On second thought, maybe I should just leave it as the Straight-jacket Express. That seems to cover the way my life is as a whole.

Oh, and I have to add a disclaimer about my last post. My husband would like to add that his list was also only partially represented and that sometimes I fall down on the job and have no clue where he last laid his keys or wallet, but on the whole he doesn't disagree with my assessment. There you go, honey. I let the world know how you feel.

Here are a couple of funnies from Katie: I put this one on my FB page, so you may have already seen it, but it's funny enough to repeat. At least I think so. One night she handed Vince a mirror and when he looked in it he said, "That's a good-looking fella." She goes, "No, Daddy, that's you!"

A few days later, she walked with me to take Audrey to school. On the way home, she says to me, "It smells like PaPa (my Dad) out here." I said, "What does Papa smell like?" She said, so serious, "beef." Oh, boy! I bet they heard me laughing for miles. When I got home I told Vince what she said and he told me that was especially funny because the night before she had been laying on his chest and told him he smelled like PaPa. He asked what PaPa smells like and she said "barbeque"!! I told my dad he needed to lay off the meat diet for a while! He said he was gonna call Stetson with an idea for a new cologne. Oh, the things that come out of her mouth. She keeps us all in stitches. And for the record, my dad smells like sawdust. I love that smell. I think I'll put piles of sawdust in Sam's room. I think you all know why.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Keeping track

This is a partial list of the things that I keep track of on a daily basis:

1. Daily schedules for everyone in my family, including the dogs. Who has doctor/dentist appointments, who has plans/playdates, what hours is Vince working, what time are these events occurring, what's happening at school/dance/church/MOPS/YMCA and do I have to bring anything?

2. The whereabouts of every single object in this house and the surrounding area at any given moment. For example: "Mom, where's the 1/4" long pink high-heeled Barbie shoe that I haven't played with in at least 6 months?"

3. The whereabouts of each child every minute of every day.

4. Family information, such as my children's birth info, my parents and siblings birthdays, his parents and siblings birthdays, the birthdate for our nieces, nephews and special friends, which cousin is getting married and the date/location, who is pregnant and how far along they are, etc.

5. The medical histories of my husband, children, and each of our extended families.

6. Who is on Facebook and what they are doing today.

7. What everyone within a 1,000 mile radius is getting for Christmas from us.

8. What's for dinner tonight, tomorrow and the rest of this week?

9. When is the car due for an oil change, how much money is in the bank and when is the next payday, when is the next sale on hamburger at Safeway, who has the cheapest gas in town, do the kids need new shoes, and so on.

Like I said, this is a partial list.

This is what my husband keeps track of on a daily basis:

1. How often we do (or do not) have sex.