Friday, June 12, 2015

Once, Twice, Three Times a Bunkmate

We just can't get out of the pull up's at night time with Rozzie.  Accidents during the day are pretty much down to nill, but we can't conquer those long summer evenings yet.  Most of the time she's dry the next day; in fact it's probably twice a week at most that we need to toss the pull up in the morning.  But every now and then. ....

And we know the cause; the kid clearly has a drinking problem.  She's obsessed with drinking the shower water. .. like seriously obsessed.  Our conversations when it's her turn in there are:

Don't drink the water
Soap you bottom
Don't drink the water
Stop drinking the water
Did you drink the water
Wash out your poupou
I said don't drink the water
Wash your face
Wash your face
Stop drinking the freakin' water!

So then we brush teeth and try to use the potty, but all that shower water hasn't quite made it down to the bladder just yet.

When I go to bed around 11, my last job of the night is to take her catatonic body back to the toilet for one more try.  It's good bonding I figure.  She tries to sleep walk off the toilet and I have to wrangler her back to the seat to avoid getting piss all over me and the floor. ... magical really. 

Well last night I went in to take her and she'd already pee'd and it had leaked out of the pull up on to the sheets.  Great.  I take her to the toilet and call Gina in to watch her while I change the sheets out.  Of course she's gone now so there's nothing left, so we put her back to bed.

Well who comes in around 3AM to announce she's wet the bed for a second time in one night?!

And it's not even like "sorry Mama and Daddy, I wet the bed again."  It's more like "Hey, you!  Clean up on aisle four!"

Friday, June 5, 2015

Because this really happened

 


Well hi there; it's been a while.  You'd think it would be one of the big things going on in our life right now that would bring me out:
Twins just wrapped up TK
Zozzy's gone a full 9 months with out breaking any part of her body
Baby number 4 is due any day now
 
But no. ... it's a much more crass reason.  My daughter inadvertently drew a penis on a birthday card for our neighbor.  It's the little things really.
 
Our good friend and neighbor had her 42nd birthday over the weekend and the girls (who adore her) were desperate to make birthday cards in celebration.  Keep in mind my neighbor is also home the past 2 weeks recovering from surgery.  So they get out their pencils and markers and start to work.  Our neighbor is an avid gardener so the girls drew flowers and trees and. ... apparently a shovel for her to garden with.
 


Naturally I made sure they gave this card to her - no way I was going to pass up this gem.
 
Happy Birthday, here's a d**k!

Monday, February 2, 2015

Super Bowl

Because it wouldn't be a party if one of my kids didn't shit all over the bathroom of someone else's home.  Rosaline's been doing really great with number two's.  Like so great that we've completely moved out of the potty training phase.  Unfortunately we spent the weekend up at the cabin and one by one the girls came down with a slight case of the diarrhea. ... of course, when has a slight case of diarrhea ever been slight?  Rosaline was the last to get hers, just after we got home and a few hours before we crossed the street to our neighbors to watch the big game.  At the time Gina noted how lucky we were that her bought happened before the party started.  I stared at the words as they hung in the air above us, then I shrugged my shoulders and moved on with life. ... like there was no reason what so ever to be concerned about the uncontrollable bowel of my recently potty trained offspring who has a propensity to dissapear upstairs at strangers houses and test the very finest cleaning solutions the planet has to offer.  Sure enough, two minutes into the third quarter - "Momma?!  Daddy?!  Zozzie has khaka on her legs."  She did.  It was true.  She also had it on the bathroom counter, the lid of the toilet, the outside of the toilet, the tile floor, the tub oh, and every inch of herself.  Touchdown!!!!!!!  I love how a bunch of the commercials yesterday were geared at dads, tugging on their heartstrings about the beauty of fatherhood.   You'll note that not one of them showed a kid covered in fecal matters and their pregnant wife bent over a toilet screaming the words "go get the Clorox wipies - we need reinforcements on this one!"

Thursday, January 22, 2015

And then there's this damn thing!

Do we really need all the dad's in the United States crying in unison?

Midnight Barter

The other night Rosaline came into to snuggle.  She's pretty consistent with these visits, but we try to limit them to a short time and then take her back to her bed.  Some times it's just her, sometimes she brings stuffed friends - sometimes she brings all her sisters like she did Sunday night and it's a real party.  This time she brought only her precious "buvvy" doll.  She's had this thing since day one so it's very important to her. ... like, "she'll cut you" important. 

So she comes in, get's her cuddle on, a few minutes (maybe hours, hard to tell between 12 and 2am how much time is really passing) and Gina takes her back to bed.  I fall back asleep but am woken back up a short time later with a proposition.  Rosaline has left buvvy in our bed and I am no sleeping on top of him/her/it (can't make up our mind on the gender of this half elephant half blanket thing).  Clearly I was cuddling and Rosaline felt back about the request, so she had brought me her back up buvvy - known as "khouka buvvy" because of it's female doll like head.  Naturally I accepted the swap and cuddled happily with khouka until it was time to get up.

I just love the thoughtfulness of a three year old.  She could have easily screamed and demanded that I return her precious, but instead she took my feelings into concern - perhaps I loved buvvy equally as much - and tried to make sure that after the buvvy removal, I would still have something to cuddle with.

I don't want them to grow up.  I mean I do, I do.  ... but I don't just the same.

Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Coming Down the Mountain

One of my all time "looking forward to this" moments finally came to fruition this past holiday weekend.  We took the girls up to the mountains and the twins took their first snowboarding lessons.  I was so proud.  I had always wanted them to start early before fear and trepidation really took hold.  I was up on skis by 3 but they've not always shown great command of their bodies or the over all desire to try new and exciting things.  But this year they were ready and - happily - they loved it.  Neither of them showed any reluctance and both were equally excited as we were getting their rental gear squared away.  Gina and I watched the first bit, for our own reassurance, but the further up the mountain they went the harder it got to observe so we finally retreated back to the cabin and waiting the 3 hours until class was done.  As we entered the ski school to pick them up, we braced ourselves for unhappy "why did you do this to us" children.  But there they were; laughing, drinking hot cocoa, completely thrilled with their day.  As they grow up in to womanhood I have no idea where they will go; how they will be; what they will love.  My hope, though, is that no matter where their lives take them or what passions they find for themselves, there will always be little bits of me in there; seeds that I have sewn, that we still have in common.  Even when they become the first sisterly President and VP of the US combo, we'll still strap our boards on together and slice up a mountain or two.
oh, and Rosaline puked about 1/3 of the way through the drive back down the mountain. ... nothing like cleaning up a vomit soaked kid and carseat on the side of a windy, narrow mountain pass while drunk snowboarders yell obsenties at you as they pass.  Thanks for that guys; makes parenting so much easier.