May the Force be with you

This is a tale about Potty training. If you are not interested, please feel free to visit some of the other awesome blogs you normally read and know that, in a couple of days, I'll eventually post about something else.

In the meantime...

I may have mentioned this before, but we are working on potty training with Miss O. She has a chart, she tells everyone she meets that she's going to have a Potty Party (though often they have NO CLUE what she's saying, her little happy voice is so high pitched), and she has been known to take herself into the bathroom to wee on the pot. We are very proud of her. Of course, she has yet to poop on the toilet, but we are hopeful. And she knows. She's told me a few times when she needs to pee. So we'll go. She'll get an M&M and a sticker. It's a very happy time, needless to say, when it happens.

Alas.

A few days ago, she decided to take a break from all sorts of potty training efforts.

How frustrating is that? Well, let me just say, frustrating.

I've been trying to guide her in the right direction because, as anyone knows who's done this before (and that would be me and Super J...twice. Not us being potty trained, twice, but teaching it, twice. You understand, right? Anyway.), you cannot force your toddler to do their business. At all. It won't work and it will, if you aren't careful, help them to avoid said training long enough to cause you to have anxiety palpitations that your child will be the only Kindergartner still in pull-ups for no good reason beyond stubbornness...right Miss E?

Happily, I know this is a phase. Frustrating, but a phase.

So, I hopped on the helpful Internet and re-read all the hints about potty training, especially helping the toddlers move those bowels in the toilet. I've tried my patented, "But the poop is soooooo happy when you put it in the toilet." And Super J took it a step further in saying, "You like to go swimming? Guess what your pee and poop like to do? Guess where their pool is?" To which, Miss O enthusiastically answers, "The TOILET!" Yay! She knows...she just doesn't know...or care.

Anyway, I bring all this up because Miss O came to me today after having stuck her fingers down her pants after doing her business. Ohdearheavens. We just don't do that here at the Zoo, because I tend to become a shrieking mess of hysteria. Luckily, I was Skyping my brother and so, had an immediate outlet and didn't freak out completely (only on the inside, Gentle Reader. Only on the inside). I went to change her and we then went and flushed the poo down the toilet, saying good-bye and wishing it well and wishing Miss O had just done her business there in the first place.

I am reminded that this potty training business cannot happen soon enough.

So, once again, any helpful suggestions for getting your kid ON the toilet after a brief stint of NOT wanting to use it, or any aid with the poo efforts, would be greatly appreciated.

Things I am loving and...not...at this stage

Gentle Reader, today is day 4 (or 3, if you ask Super J who is probably more correct in his calculations than my pregnant brain wants to give him credit for) of being "laid up and on crutches." I can officially say, I Ams Hating It. I am way too busy, have way too much stuff to do and WAY too fat and pregnant for me to be in this hot mess. ARGH!

There. That being said...

Things that I have appreciated about it:

1. My friends and loving thoughts sent along the way and childcare options and help options and visitations. Thank you, one and all. You are incredible. Though I am still feeling foolish and goofish and all that goes along with this, you have made me feel loved despite/in spite of myself. Thank you.

2. I actually am caught up on my book club books. When you can do practically nothing but sit "in your cell" (as Super J likes to call my love seat/prop your leg up area) or lie in bed, it's amazing how entertaining good books can be.

3. Going to the bathroom by myself. Shades of horrified future, on Friday when I could not put any weight on my foot, it was quite the experience to be accompanied to the toilet and I must admit to being terrified that it might have to continue for longer than it did. Ugh. I have never been so grateful to get crutches for this reason. And I never want to get old...just sayin'.

4. Which brings us to "Crutches". Even without a fracture (I'll have to call later this afternoon to find out one way or another, but I totally still think it's a sprain), I am supposed to use my crutches until I can manage walking on my own...which I told Super J was today. Hmmmmmm...maybe not (remember: I AM the queen of unrealistic expectations). It has made negotiating things (ie: the bathroom trips) sooooo much better and getting up and down the stairs. Yay.

5. The amazing thing called the human body and it's ability to heal, especially through the power of prayer and priesthood blessings. I am 100% sure that I am this far along because of it.

6. That I have not gone into labor! HALLELUJAH! I was telling Super J just last night how crazy it was that all my pregnancy aches and pains, while I'm still aware of them, have been lowered on the pain threshold level because of all these new and impressive boo-boos. And, let me just mention how wonderful it is to feel that baby moving in there, turning about and just reminding me that she's quite okay after all this drama.

7. Last, but not least: My family. Super J has been above and beyond Super. He took all three girls to a Primary activity and then the mall on Saturday and then to a baseball game (our nephews) and out and about and brought home GREEK FOOD for dinner. Yum. Heck! *I* haven't even taken all of them to the mall by myself. Yesterday, he took them all to church and worked with them and made dinner...I could go on. And you should see the girls thriving under his care. If I thought they LURVED him before, now I really know. Miss A and E have been sooooo sweet (though all three tend to be a wee bit oblivous when it comes to bumping into the foot when it's propped up...oh well) AND!!!! Miss O has been AWESOME going to bed and nap time for him. Yay! And I just found out that my mom might be able to come up later in the week, which will be great whether I'm in a cast, go into labor, or none of the above.

I know there are so many more things that I'm grateful for (spell-check being one of them! ha! Sorry if you got this before I ran the spell check..."throught"? What is that???). But for now, I'm grateful for the opportunity to go change a diaper...I think. lolol.

Ugh. Giggle. Snort.

Ugh: I have developed a strange rash on the back of my neck, right under the hairline. I put some hydro cortisone cream on it, so it no longer itches, but I was wondering what type of plague I have been gifted. Heat rash? Allergic reaction to something? Psoriasis? Eczema??? I called the Nurse Line at the ol' OBGYN (because you never know what they'll say about a mystery rash this far along) and we are "just keeping an eye on it, unless it gets worse" for now.

Giggle: Today I taught Miss O how to "Ugga Mugga" or Eskimo Kiss (rubbing noses). So cute. So potentially dangerous. She doesn't quite have the grasp of " be gentle" down, so it often begins with a head-butt (and as we learned with Miss E, nothing says I love you like a good solid unexpected smack in the head), but we're getting there.

Snort: Driving to get some lunch (I know, so pathetic), I hear this from the back of the Red Rocket...

Miss A: "Miss E, I bet you can't count to 10"
Miss E: counts to 10
Miss A: "I bet you can't count to 105!"
Miss E: "Oh yeah? I bet you can't count to the biggest number ever!"
Miss A: "Yes I can! What number?"
Miss E: With a big voice, "A Million!"
Miss A: (really fast) "1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 1 Million."
Miss E: With sincere awe, "Wow."
Me: while driving in the front, literally guffaw, and then I try to hush myself up before they notice I have laughed because I don't want to spoil a precious moment amongst sisters.

Randomness, often associated with Water (and Tigers and Cherries, Oh My!)

So many little thoughts that I wanted to record...where to start, where to start...

**Miss O no longer calls her sisters "Ado" for Miss A and "Odo" for Miss E. Instead, she calls Miss A "Adol" and Miss E, "Bith."

**The other evening, right after showers but just before bed, I was getting Miss O dressed and noticed her leg seemed wet...especially considering that she'd just gotten dried off (fyi: we shower the girls in the "guest room" bathroom and then they literally run into their bedroom to get their pjs on). I asked her if she'd gone potty and she gave me the sign language sign for potty. I got her diaper on (just in case that sign was because she was NEEDING to go potty) and asked her WHERE she'd gone. Super J went with her...into OUR room...and followed her over where she had, indeed, peed. Right on Super J's shoes and a Dora the Explorer book. But she was so proud that she could associate "potty" with what she'd just done that she came running back to me, rather exultant. It was quite funny, though probably because they weren't MY shoes.

**My mother-in-law sent a small package (the idea that she has to send stuff in the mail in order for it to be received in our household is a post for another time) for Super J's birthday in which she gifted him a pink oxford shirt and a book called, "Moments for Fathers: Positive Reflections to Strengthen His Spirit." Okay. But more impressive is that she sent ME a "baby shower" card, saying that she was sorry, but she wasn't invited to any baby shower (?????) but wanted me to have a little something. Um...I'm not HAVING a baby shower, but I digress. She sent me...wait for it...a polyester aqua-colored peignoir from "Woman Within." Gentle Reader, that's lingerie. It is WILDLY inappropriate. Super J said that we should go ahead and dress up in them and take a picture and send it to his mom. I'm dying about a thousand deaths. For some reason, my m-i-l seems to think that gifting me stuff like this is quite acceptable (and has sent me a number of these types of "ensembles" over the years). For those who might wonder about such etiquette, the answer is NO! It is NOT acceptable. For crying out loud.

**Besides, we can't take pictures (*Shudder*...and no pun intended) because Super J left our camera in a little restaurant on his drive home from Nauvoo. They are supposed to be Fed-Ex-ing it, but we'll just have to wait and see if they really are going to. Sigh. I probably would have just driven back and gotten the camera instead of relying on the honesty of these people, but I hope to be proved wrong.

**Happily, on a different note: For F.H.E. last night, we took the girls swimming at our little neighborhood pool for the activity. The girls got to show off what they learned in Swim Class in the past two weeks, and it was both enlightening and terrifying at the same time. Their skill set has vastly improved, as has their confidence and I loved that. However, only Miss A can really "swim", but Miss E is determined that her ability to dunk her head in the water and cast herself off before losing her ability to hold her breath and emerge from the water gasping is officially a sign of her competence in the "swimming" category. She kept telling me over and over, "But I know how to swim!!!" (remember, this is the girl who thought that because she could kick her legs while floating in a pool ring that she was now qualified to teach a swim class). Yes, she knows how to swim...just enough to cause trouble.

**Which leads to these little gems: had TERRIBLE dreams all last night. One involved Miss E jumping into a Cherry Bog before anyone was able to either catch her or determine how deep the bog was. Now, I know cherries grow on trees and my subconscious was getting them confused with those cranberry drink commercials, tossed in with a strange mix of Star Wars, where Luke is in the trash compactor and you are worried he's going to be drowned by that weird creature, amongst the floating debris where you can't see the bottom, the water is so murky. I was so freaked out by this that I woke myself up (have you ever done that, mid-nightmare?). Ugh. Hard to shake off.

Then, that was followed up by yet ANOTHER bad dream closer to waking-up time, where we went to visit some new neighbors in our subdivision who had a cemetery right outside their house (I know, it's a WHAT????? kind of moment right there, because if you've ever been in our subdivision there is NO cemetery even near it, but so dreams go) and there were some unusual squash plants and an orange tree and Super J went to pick some oranges and this new neighbor husband guy went with him and then, out of no where, the family's pet tiger (?????) became HUGE and ANGRY and started mauling the two men and some random dog and...and...and I started running after them all with a rake. Ummmmmm...TERRIBLE!!!!!! As I type it, I realize just how dumb the whole things sounds, but at the time in that weird dream state, it was very scary. I woke up, feeling very...thick and stiff and bleary-eyed. And I must confess that even now, after breakfast, I'm still feeling a bit like that.

**Which leads to THIS gem: I'm taking the girls to a swim play date at noon...that I kinda set up...with some of Miss A's friends from preschool. Why oh why did I not simply set up a play date at McDonald's? I mean, then at least lunch would be taken care of and I could sit in some A/C. Nope. Instead, we'll pay $5.00 each for this "aquatic center" and hope there is enough shade as the temperature gets to be 90 degrees outside and that Miss E doesn't jump into a Cherry Bog and no tigers maul anyone around because I highly doubt there are any rakes nearby, only to end up going through the drivethru at McDonald's when it's all over, thus spending twice the money!.

Oh well. Maybe if I'm lucky, Miss O won't pee on my shoes, though I wouldn't be sad if she did on that polyester aqua-colored peignoir. Unless you want it, Gentle Reader. In that case, give me a call.

Discoveries and Fresh Produce

Well, official or no, I am now on "Maternity Leave" from the Primary (aka: the children's portion of Sunday School and Lessons) at church. I am, technically, still in this calling of music leader, but Good Krista said to me, "Let me just take over next week" (including picking the songs and maybe even cleaning and organizing the music closet!!!! See???? She's quite wonderful). Could have kissed her. Not because I won't miss the kids or hear them singing the music. I will. Alot, actually, because a) as we all know, I've grown attached and b) I'm a control freak. That being said, when I get home I am pretty much USELESS after lunch. Remember the swimming lessons? That is NOTHING compared to what I feel like after a morning in Primary and Nursery (18 months to 3 yr olds). But I only have 3 Sundays left before New Baby arrives, so it's kinda nice not to have that weighing on my mind, and the Primary President said today that they noticed I have having trouble with my breathes/singing ratio and they hoped I wouldn't pass out. lol.

ANYWHOOOOO, after a nap, I decided to tackle roasting some vegetables that Grandpa harvested when Super J dropped him off yesterday. I have a really great recipe for roasting said veggies from beloved Ina Garten (I probably shouldn't talk about her like I know her and/or stalk her, but I LOVE watching Barefoot Contessa on Food Network. One day, you'll come for dinner and I'll be so organized, you'll wonder if you stepped foot in MY house or Hers. In the meantime...), where you then turn around and add chicken broth and blend up the roasted veggies with chicken broth and turn the whole thing into a fabulous soup, or "po-tage" as Super J likes to call it. It really is quite lovely and, more importantly, quite easy. The biggest amount of work is just cutting things up.

So, prior to setting forth to take care of this, I had to take care of business and I went into the bathroom off of our bedroom (aka: Mommy & Daddy's bathroom) and what do I find???? Pretty much the entire roll of toilet paper unspooled, lying in a heap on the ground.

Miss O has struck again.

These are things she has learned in the past 2 weeks. Seriously, it's only been 2 weeks.

1. That she can turn on/off light switches (and fans' switches, if they happen to co-exist next to said light switches).

2. That she can, with a bit of effort and in moments of panic, turn the knob on bathrooms to join me whilst I'm in the middle of a bathroom break.

3. That she wants to "wipe, too, Momma!" which consists of her grabbing the toilet paper and starting to unroll vast quantities so that she can wipe...wait for it...her nose. Twice. Before wadding up the entire thing and trying to toss it in the commode.

Now, I KNOWS I wasn't in that bathroom when the toilet paper was getting unraveled because I know to stop it before it ends up, well, completely off it's cardboard holder and heaped on the floor. I have a feeling, Gentle Reader, that this was done when...(ominous music plays)...no one was around. This prompts Learning Moment #4:

4. That she can, when no one is around, unroll vasts amounts of toilet paper, thus stripping the toilet paper off its cardboard holder and leaving it heaped on the floor.

You know, I am all about my children learning and exploring and expanding their minds...I just wish it didn't involve all these HIGHLY annoying things! Argh!

Oh well. I shall just comfort myself in lots and lots of potage.

Screeching Halt

Probably last Friday or Saturday, we first heard it and then it continued, on and off, but since Super J is taking it on his vacation, we decided to get the brakes on the Red Rocket checked because they were shrieking in protest whenever we braked too hard or too quickly.

Sure enough, the pads were worn and the rotors had to be replaced.

Doesn't it just disgust you when you have an unexpected expense like that come up. And yet, you are also kinda relieved because now you know that it's a problem the most precious of passengers won't have to deal with on the road. So, I am immensely glad that it's been taken care of, even though it was a bit of a surprise.

It's also given me an opportunity to practice driving Super J's White Giant...his big ol' truck (makes you kinda want to start singing and humming, "I'm driving down Highway 40 in my big ol' pick-up truck" doesn't it?). Man that thing is big, and I'm not the best judge of spatial relations concerning how to park it because the length of the thing is still kinda mysterious to me, so I always look for spots with PLENTY of room. You should have seen where I parked it for swimming lessons. Ha.

And speaking of swim lessons...one day left. And Super J is going to take the girls and then they will leave from the pool. Can we get a "Hallelujah?" Hallelujah!!!! We made it. Whew.

So here's to getting brakes fixed, having transportation (even though it's massive) to use while the hubby takes the girls on vacation, and a few days of quality Miss O & Mommy time starting tomorrow. Even feeling SUPER tired, life is good. Let's just hope I don't go into preterm labor while Super J is out of town. That would be a bummer, just gotta say. :)

Too Much Ambition = Need for Bar of Soap = Probably Need A Nap

Miss A & E are going on a little vacay with Super J and his dad in a few days to visit some church history sites. They are all very excited, even though it means many hours in the car. It also means that I'm trying to pack interesting things to do for many hours in the car for Miss A & E, in addition to sunscreen and bug repellent. THIS means a trip to Target to get some supplies (and because they have this mascara that I want to get, truth be told. UPDATE: got the mascara, tried the mascara. Do NOT like the mascara. Ohhhhhh-yuck. Revlon 3D mascara comes out way tooooo clumpy and gloopy. I look like Tammy Faye Baker Messner, may she rest in peace, for those of you who remember her).

So. Why not go right after swim class, I reason to myself? I can save gas by not coming home AND we can just get these errands run and then BE DONE with them. It sounds so good, especially since Miss O and I are done with that Mommy & Me class, so I will not be soaking wet and utterly exhausted. Ha! However, we still dress in the ol' swimsuits so she can play in the "zero entry" pool area for kids 0-7 yrs old. She's very cute getting a teensy bit wet then running back to me. When Miss A & E are done, they join us for 10 minutes and then I call time and we go off to the "family changing room" to get changed. I do not realize that all the hugs Miss O has given me have saturated the left boob part of my swimsuit top, thus when I put my shirt over my swimsuit, it looks as if I am a nursing mother who has leaked profusely. Nice.

And, this is where *I* start falling apart...in the "family changing room" with my left side of my shirt completely wet and obvious. It is also hot and sticky in this cement hole. Meanwhile, the girls are really just being almost 6, 4, and 2. In other words, they are acting their age by being enamoured with all things in the bathroom, needing to use the toilet, dropping the towels and clothes on the wet floor, telling me I'm doing things wrong and, basically in general, just being kids. *I* do NOT act my age and start grousing (ARGH! Okay, okay...speaking in unkind tones) for them to LISTEN to MOMMY and PUT THEIR SHOES ON and GET DRESSED! AND *&^%$#. Yep. I swear. Right after I told them to specifically listen to me. ARGH!!!!!! It is, admittedly, one of my "finer" mothering moments.

I apologize for losing it and we get out to the car. I continue to apologize for losing it until we arrive at Target. We do some shopping. I get a weird ligament pain and long desperately for a place to sit down. Instead, we have to go all the way across the store to find some bug spray.

Let's pause here and share some annoyance, shall we? Can someone please tell me why they don't put insect repellent next to their many many displays of sunscreen? Both are for the outside activities. Why can they not have both together????? Why must I go to the CAMPING section to find any type of bug spray? And why will I find a perfectly good bottle of it, later after the next incident, suitable for children, tossed in with the $1.00 items at the front of the store? GRRRRRRRRRR.

On top of that, as we are looking, I run over Miss A's toes with the &*^%$! cart (swearing occurrence #2) and the little metal thing that is on the back right wheel catch her toes, which are currently revealed thanks to her swim class Princess flip flops she chose to wear, and it scrapes several of them up. Luckily, there is no bleeding (else, trust me, the mood I was in, I'd be YELLING for a manager to swear at...sigh), but there is pain and I feel TERRIBLE. AWFUL. And what do I say to her? "I'm so sorry honey. Next time, let's wear more reasonable shoes."

ARGH!!!!! Like it's her poor shoe choice that has caused her mother to run over her toes and scrape them up. I swear again (that makes THREE times, but who's counting????) as I hug her and reassure her that I truly am sorry.

And here we see an ugly character flaw of Miss L: besides the swearing and absolute loss of self control, we see that when I feel really bad and responsible for something, like if my kids fall and/or are injured or whatever, and especially if I have warned them to watch out or be careful or some such thing, the overwhelming emotion of concern that I feel mixes with my own guilt that I have failed them somehow and emerges as anger because I no longer have control over the situation. Thus I am not completely reassuring and comforting. In fact, I am the OPPOSITE. I shove most of the blame onto them because if ONLY they had HEEDED my ohsocareful warnings. And, especially, if they are crying, I want them to stop so *I* can calm down. It's incredibly selfish on my part, and I'm trying to be better, but I still slip up.

We end our very very trying trip to Target in their little food court, where of course the Pizza Hut cashiers must give a refund to some woman but neither of them know how, so we are actually stuck in line until almost the breaking point, but luckily we get some food in all of us just in time. And then we have actually a very nice lunch and make our way out to the car when Miss O somehow loses contact with her cup and her refilled medium size beverage slips out of her hands and spills out in the parking lot. Weeping and wailing commences in 3...2...1...now.

Of course. Of course!

Miss A magnanimously offers to share her lemonade with Miss O, and Miss O accepts but that does not stop the WAILING that is going on. Once again, I am not feeling very comforting because I told her to hold it with both hands and she did not listen. We get to the car and I tell Miss O that it's time to dry it up and I do not want to hear any more about it, especially since Miss A is going to share. Miss O complies. We get in the car. We start to drive home. We get caught in a TORRENTIAL downpour from a pop-up Thunderstorm. I kinda laugh maniacally to myself and we get home, get unloaded and here we are now.

We have survived The Errands. I think next time, I'll just come home and assess the situation and maybe go AFTER naps and lunch and downtime. And this is how I gain my pearls of wisdom...sigh.

How's YOUR morning going?

I need to start this post by saying, "Happy Birthday, Miss O!!!!"

Thank heavens you are now 2 and still have NO expectations about birthdays, because this one has sure started out in an interesting way.

That being said, I wish I believed that there would only be five or six...maybe seven...tests that we had to pass to gain life experience and then we could be through and we could enjoy the beaches and sunsets of the world. Wouldn't that be nice? I mean, I'm a really good test taker, especially when I know how many to expect and what kinds of tests are coming at me. There's a reason I loved school so much.

But then there are other tests that you just aren't prepared for, when you are often literally standing in the crap that life throws at you.

Do you know where I am going with this? No?

One of our toilets overflowed this morning. And I am the Parent at Home.

When I realized what had happened, I kinda had a stupor of thought along the lines of...what on earth do I do next? Where was the magic Sanitation Patrol, who'd come and take care of this. Ohhhhh, wait. That would be ME. I had COMPLETELY forgotten that toilet overflow clean-up was in my job description. Man, it's a good thing I am completely hooked on the emotional buzz of this job, because I am NOT getting paid enough to deal with this! The silver lining? At least it's not the sewer backing up in the basement (please knock on whatever wood is near you right now. Thank you).

And furthermore, like I said, I'm a pretty good test taker and after the initial shock, I set about working to get it cleared up, literally and figuratively. I also am still having a prayer in my heart that the magical bottle of Lemon Cleaning Liquid really does kill 99.9% of bacteria. PLEASE let that be right. UGh.

I'm comforting myself that soon, I shall be doused in so much chlorine at swim lessons that anything that I happened to have missed will be killed on contact.

In the meantime, hope your morning is going, if nothing else, a little better than mine. :)

Life...continued.

Driving to swimming lessons (more on that later):

Miss A: "Mom! I saw some Queen's Ant's Lace!"

Miss E: "Yeah, Mom! We see some Queen Ant's Lace!!!"

Pause, pause.

Me: "You mean, Queen ANNE'S Lace?"

Both: "Who?"

"Queen Anne. That's was her name. Not as in the bugs, but her name is ANNE."

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh."
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Update: Super J fixed the broom. And there was much rejoicing in Crumb Land ("hooray!").

I asked, are you sure you can fix it? He just looked at me like I'd asked him if he had two eyes. I'm sure, somewhere in the distance, theme music started. He went out to the garage and, using who knows what, he got the broken-off screw thingy out of the broom head and put a very green handle (from an old broom or mop, I dunno. It looked vaguely familiar, but I haven't used something with a green handle for quite some time) on the yellow broom head. It's not real pretty to look at, but it works. And it didn't cost a thing.
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I have a fear that Miss O is currently enjoying an ear infection. There is no fever, but the child refuses to go down for bed tonight! It's 12:00ish, and I have finally succumbed to letting her just cry. She's been given ibruprofen, some ear drops and finally something to releave congestion (and hopefully some pressure in the ear). It's either ear infection or 2 year old molars are starting to come in. Either way, now we are both tired of each other and I am done. Argh. I hate getting to this point because I feel like a bad mommy. Oh well. I shall not dwell.

Instead, let me enthrall you with the fact that we went to our first Mommy & me swimming lesson today (Misses A & E had "real" lessons during the same time. Blessedly, they are all 30 minutes long, which truly is quite short when one is actually in the water). Initially, Miss O was JOYOUS to be there. She kicked like a pro--both on her tummy and on her back. She put her chin in the water. She kinda put her ear in the water. She did GREAT.

For 15 minutes.

And then she was done and wanted out of the pool and wanted NOTHING more to do with it...until the "lesson" was done and everyone else was getting out of the pool, and then she was DESPERATE to get back into the pool. Ugh. Very hard to pick up fit-pitching child who should not be quite so close to the pool when pitching said fit when one has swallowed a bowling ball which currently resides in el stomacho (you may not be able to tell by this word choice, but I don't know Spanish. Sorry). So, I don't know what's wrong with her. Swimmers ear? Ear infection? Molars? She's almost 2 (in a week! Holy Smokes (or smocks, as I just typed...that seems to kinda work, too).

In the meantime, Miss A & E were very very good, both behaviorally and at their swim lessons. They do want to stay and play in the little adjoining water park, that is right next to the pools where the swim lessons take place. I, honestly, don't know if I have that in me. I was EXHAUSTED by the time we got home. It takes about an hour to prep for swim lessons and get everyone fed, pottied, dressed, buckled in the car and then readied for the lesson, then it takes 20 minutes to get back to the car AFTER swim lessons and then you come home, get everyone changed and snacked (but not too much snack because lunch is just around the corner). Yep. Tired.

And on that happy note, I cannot believe we are going to swim lessons for the next 7 weekdays. What was I thinking??? Oh yeah. I don't want my kids to drown when they go to our local, un-life-guarded pool because they have a false sense that they "can swim" because they use one of those blow-up tube thingies.

True story: The other day, I was reminding Miss E that she was starting swimming classes and she happily chirped, "Can I be the teacher?"

"Ummmm, no honey. They are lessons for you to take."

"But I already know how to swim" (with the inner tube thingy).

"And that's why you are taking more lessons, hon."
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So, Super J left town this afternoon (after fixing the broom...Ta Da!) for a business trip.

In honor of that, I took the liberty of going to Panera Bread for a little something for Momma and then took the kids to McDonald's for some Happy Meals and Playland playtime (and, honestly, a Redbox Chick flick for me).

Here's the quick and dirty review of the evenings events:

Panera Bread: a little slice of the hot place when one has 3 kiddos and Miss O decides she is going to do her impression of a legless sack of potatoes (I know, I know, potato sacks often do NOT have legs and if they did, they'd be very scary indeed, but let's just say she went boneless practically the entire time we were there because she DID NOT WANT TO HOLD MY HAND and was OFFENDED that I was making her. Ugh). AND, on top of that...where do they get the help these days. No, wait. That's not fair. But let's call a spade a spade and say that the highschoolers at Panera on this particular evening were about as helpful as...rotted basil. And as filled with energy and happiness to be working at Panera, I might add, as that rotted basil. Not impressed.

Walking out to the car from Panera Bread: HUGE slice of the hot place because some idiot older man driver in a little sporty coupe decided he was going to speed through the parking lot, give me and my little ducklings the right of way to cross the street, only to then turn into the lane at a quick speed trying to get the empty parking spot that was right next to where we were walking. Miss O TRIPS (of course), luckily NOT in the path of the car, but parallel to it, successfully freaking me, Misses A & E, and I hope with any good fortune, that asinine driver completely OUT. Seriously, she totally could have been hit because of this #$%@*&(^% speedy driving.

I mean, if it was AT ALL busy, I might have understood his rush to Get. That. Spot. But there was no other car coming or going near us. AND there was another empty spot two cars down from this particular spot. AND there were 3 empty car spots open from that second option spot. I must admit, I was NOT thinking kind Christian thoughts about this gentleman (clearly). Instead, I wanted to really light into him for his Total Display of Stupidity. I was hashed. But I was still freaked from my child almost being hit and so I just got us all in the Red Rocket and took a big drag from my beverage (diet caffine free Pepsi with a shot of Pepsi. Very nice. I like it better than Coke products, as stated before...somewhere), and, true confessions, horked down my half turkey sandwich.

McDonald's: Thus in my stellar mood, we drive around the outdoor mall and arrive at McDonald's. We go in, order the food, and I get a beverage (they have Light Minute Maid Lemonade at this McDonald's. Also very nice and refreshing). I realize after I paid that I should have gotten a large because then I'd get a free redbox DVD rental. Argh. I ask the cashier, "Is it too late to upgrade my drink to a large?"

"Nope," she says, and starts swapping the cups.

"How much?" I ask, digging through my wallet and getting some change ready.

Get this: "No charge."

I could have reached over and kissed her. I mean, how nice was that. And she even gave me one of the free DVD rental cups.

I also wanted to say, "Panera Bread has NOTHING on you tonight, friendly helpful people at McDonald's!"

AND to make things, seriously, even better...there were hardly any people in the Playland. I hesitate to say this, but it was almost soothing to be there. The kids played...used the bathroom facilities (Alot...ohholycow, they must have been saving up for a trip to use public restrooms!)...and had a nice, low key time.

Holy Smocks! It's after 1:00am. Okay, tomorrow, I shall continue this enthralling tale of my Monday evening, with a riviting story of how much of a dork I am when trying to get a movie out of the Red Box. Yegads. And I'll give you a review of the movie, 27 Dresses.

Things spoken, heard, seen and felt this weekend...

Let's start this off with this, from Miss A.

The whole family was driving to Costco on Saturday and from the back seat, I hear very excitedly, "Mom! Mom! I just saw some Queen Anne's Lice!"

Pause, pause.

"You mean, Queen Anne's Lace?"

"Oh, yeah."
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During Primary (our Children's Meeting), our Primary President started talking about one of the girls in the congregation who was just baptized on Saturday and was talking it up, saying that something very exciting had happened to someone and asked if anyone knew what it was.

Miss E raises her hands, gets called on, and then proceeds to stand and tell everyone, "We have been very good and must think...(about who knows what because she said something I couldn't quite understand)...and it's so wonderful that tomorrow we get to start swimming lessons!!!!"

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While at Costco, one of the ladies (who was probably 50-ish and of Latin descent, based on her accent) who hands out samples was starting with her little sales pitch when all of a sudden she stops and says, "Where did you get your top????"

I was wearing a maternity top that my mom had gotten for me from the Army Post near where she lives. I told this sweet lady this and she said, "I love the colors and it looks super comfortable. I wish I could get one!"

I made some lame comment about needing to be comfortable at this stage and then walked off...not sure if I should be complimented about how a retiree enjoyed my wardrobe selection or offended that she just joined the throngs who people who don't realize that, once again, I'm PREGNANT!

*********************************************
And speaking of things felt this weekend...I had a TERRIBLE, tear (as in salt water leaking from the eye, not a ripping tear) inducing pain this morning. It was definitely not a contraction, but a literal pain that felt like it took probably 10 minutes of laying down to vanquish. Ugh. My mantra is now: I only need to get through 4 more weeks. Four more weeks. That's it.

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We have a "toddler" bird living near our house...I believe it's a Robin...and it's learning to fly. Watching it the past few days, it's been fascinating to see the interactions with the parental birds as it is literally getting its wings. I'm not sure where the nest is located (it's NOT in the swing set), but the birds fly and land on the banister of our deck and sometimes they all just sit there, like the parents are waiting for the youngling to catch it's proverbial wind. Ahhhhh, Nature. Fascinating to watch.

The girls particularly enjoyed today when we saw a parent bird feed the "toddler" and then later saw the same parent bird fly with a worm in its mouth, but the "baby" wasn't there. Interesting. On a completely different note about Nature, these birds sure poop alot on the ol' banister.

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And we'll end with yet another fine example of my parenting:

Miss A and E were throwing some nerf ball at each other (both have very poor aim and were laughing and running away from one another). Miss E kept saying, "Don't hit my nose! Don't hit my nose" and Miss A finally reassured her that Miss E could move her hand (which had been covering said nose) because she wasn't going to hit her there and then Miss A proceeded to...throw the ball and hit Miss E on the nose.

I caught the whole thing and said, "Miss A! Why did you do that? You know what happens to liars, don't you? They go to the Hot Place." (and I literally said, "hot place," just so you know)

Well, it was dinner time and we got everyone settled and served, prayed over the food and everyone was digging in when Miss A says, very earnestly, "Mom, can you tell me more about this 'Hot Place?'"

Ohhhhhhhhhfortheloveofpancakes!!!!!

I tried to get her to wait until after supper, but she said, "No. I'd rather hear about it now."

Super J jumps in with the oh-so-helpful, "Well, according to 'true' church doctrine," AHEM!!!!! I thinks in my head, "...the Hot Place is truly only reserved for those who openly rebel against Christ, and I highly doubt that you will be included in this, so don't worry about it."

Ummmmm, yeah. That really didn't do anything to help.

So then I, with even more clumsy finesse, start in with, "Well, you know that if we want to go back to be with Heavenly Father, we must be on our best behavior and so we can't lie, because we can't be with Heavenly Father and our families if we make the decision to lie to people, so it's best to tell the truth, because any place without our Father in Heaven or our Families is going to be the Hot Place and they call it the Hot Place because you are so embarrassed and sad that you aren't with those you love." (Ugh!!!!! At this point, I'm just so glad she hasn't asked a direct question about sex! I wonder how bad I'd be blathering about that, when the time comes. Yegads!)

Super J and I both look at each other and then say, to Miss A who still looks very concerned, "Honey, you really don't need to worry about it. Let's just not lie."

Miss A says, "So, I'll just work to do better."

"Yes, Honey, that's a great idea."

...And something I'll work on, too.

And then along comes Polly...

I have moments of parenting where I realize I must take responsibility for the error of my ways. Sometimes, it's more obvious than others...such as when I hear one of my daughters utter a word they have heard me speak in moments of frustration. A recent example, when Miss A said, "I am FREAKIN' hot!" Oh, uh huh. She's 5. She did not learn "freakin'" from her father, nor I suspect, from her Baptist Preschool. Alas, that one is all mine.

Something else that is all mine? Miss A and E's current obsession with the Polly Pocket line of dolls (this picture is NOT our collection, but sadly comes kinda close). These dolls are almost 4 inches tall and are made with some sort of plastic that makes their arms and legs kinda bend...which is needed when trying to get them into the spandex-like plastic fashions that accompany them. Even Miss O loves these things, but I have to admit that I normally confine Polly Pocket playtime during her naps because at least Miss A and E don't pester me as much to change dresses every few minutes. That, and I needed to be sure that Miss O wouldn't try to EAT any of Polly Pockets and her vast assortment of accessories, which she didn't/doesn't. Happily, Miss O rarely tries to eat a toy...I'm rather grateful for that, and I chalk that up there with her rare back washes as something I really like about her.

Anyhoo...it takes a certain dexterity to manipulate these "dresses" and accessories on and off of Polly. And when I mean dexterity, I probably mean patience and a true desire to play with the goshdarn things (see? And I wonder where my girls get this from!). Frankly, it's HARD to do! I think this is one reason why the girls end up dressing Polly (and I should mention, most of our Polly's are from the Disney Princess line, which is it's own little slice of the hot place because they have the most obnoxious lump of plastic atop their heads...yes, yes, I know it's supposed to be their luscious locks of hair, but seriously, it makes getting the dresses on and off even harder!!!!) in very extravagant gowns (they are easier to change in and out of because they have bigger neck openings) or letting them frolic about in their painted on underwear (the latter being seen most often).

I don't know why I even gave initial approval for them, but if I recall, they were all prizes when we were trying to potty train one of the girls and then they seemed like nice gifts for Holidays and...well...as a parent, sometimes you just start to glaze over when reality and plastic toys combine. It's a scary moment and a scary thing to admit, but it's true.

I bring this up, Gentle Reader, because of an episode we "enjoyed" yesterday. As you can imagine, the accessories for Polly (who, remember, is less than 4 inches high and quite stick-like with almost non-existent feet) are intsy. Tiny. Very very small. You get the picture.

I was on my way out the door to meet some friends for a girls' night out, leaving the Misses A, E, and O in Super J's awesome care, when I hear shrieking. I walk into the "office" and see the girls are sitting in mourning by my Dyson vacuum, which has a container in which you can see all dirt, dust and debris you've sucked up. True confessions: I love love love to vacuum and love love love to see the result of this passion, but I also love to empty that part of the vacuum because, let's face it, it's pretty gross. Alas, I had not emptied it yet and (can you see where this is going????) I had inadvertently sucked up a single accessory (I think they identified it as a belt. Of all things. A belt.) from the Polly Pocket collection.

Let the weeping and wailing commence in 3...2...1...and it begins.

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhholycow.

Super J shoos me from the house. I feel guilty for about 3 minutes (ha! Obviously a bit more if I'm blogging about it) until I get on the road, because seriously, I had NO CLUE I had vacuumed up that wee bit o'plastic.

When I get home, I hear more of the story. Turns out that the weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth did not end for at least...half an hour, if not longer? And it took some tough lovin' from Daddy (and an escalation of events from being sent to their room to a swat) to finally get the girls to quiet down because Super J was not, based on the weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth, going to dig through the dusty debris and pull out Polly's belt. Nope. He did the opposite. He took the canister and threw it all away. Gone went the dust and debris. Gone went Polly's belt. Holler, holler, holler went Miss A and E (and Miss O, I understand, tried to squeeze out a tear or two in honor of her sisters' distress, but really couldn't maintain any semblance of sadness because...well, she could care less at this age what's going on, especially if it doesn't concern her directly).

Eventually, the tide of woe subsided and, so I'm told by all, they had a lovely evening together, even enjoying some Otter pops out on the deck.

And more interestingly still, today the girls have been quite fastidious about picking up all their toys. Go Daddy. True confessions? I'd have just plucked the belt out of the canister and called it a day. lol.

In which some (somewhat sad) truths must be told...

Last night...er, well, I should say earlier this morning around 4:30ish, I am awakened by a scream of terror from Miss O. Yegads! I heft myself out of bed and waddle as well as my incapacitated right leg ligaments will let me (I swear, I look about 70 yrs old trying to walk because my right leg won't seem to work. Think Barbie [I know, that's being generous, but it's for the mental image] and how her legs connect to the torso by a single plastic bolt. Well, just imagine that plastic bolt NOT wanting to turn at all. Yes. This is the joy of walking if I've been laying down or sitting for any length of time and must, for any reason, hustle someplace else.)

Turns out that Miss O has gotten her arm stuck in one of the slats of her crib and has been awakened out of a deep slumber (and in a panic, has now awakened her mother from a deep slumber. Kinda a shame, because I was dreaming I was swimming free-style, through space. I dunno what that means, but it was very surreal to say the least). I get the arm free and go to make a bottle for her and get her settled and then try to go back to bed. A half hour later, she starts fussing again so I go in and end up rocking her (and falling asleep in the rocker) back to sweet sweet slumber. I wake up when I feel drool on my arm (her's, not mine...though, let's be honest. Who really knows) and I go back to my own bed around 6:00ish. Miss A joins me (remember, she's my early riser) around 7:15ish (late for her, but they didn't get to bed until 10pm last night) and about half hour later, Miss E joins us. I am finally roused for the morning around 8:00 when Miss O wakes up. And new baby starts kicking. It seems EVERYONE wants to get up, except for me.

Thus we arrive at the first (somewhat sad) truth that must be told: I am often the one that does not want to participate and do anything except SIT in front of a cold air source (even a fan going on high is appealing to me) with a nice beverage. I have reached that point of my pregnancy. I have arrived at the "I just want to sit and not move" stage. Hence one reason for all the great blogging I seem to be doing. :). I am 31 weeks. I have (hopefully) 8 weeks to go. More to go, I should say.

The second sad truth that must be told: After all my grousing about my pediatrician and my online guffaws at him suggesting we move Miss O to her toddler bed within the next two weeks, I must now admit that we might have to move Miss O into her toddler bed within the next few weeks. Not to make sure we squelch any jealous tendencies aimed at the new baby, but because if she keeps getting appendages stuck in the slats...well, that's just not safe.

A third sad truth that must be told:
My sister has found what sounds like a GREAT gift to send to my dad for Father's Day. The sad truth is that we were talking about how hard it is to know what to get him (does he need socks? A tie?), because we haven't seen him in years, and it's kinda hard to glean a meaningful something from some random phone calls. But she found a floral arrangement "from the fields of Germany" which sounds GREAT. I guess you'd have to know that most of my ancestors (especially paternal) have come from these said fields. So, it really seems a great idea. I hope the presentation lives up to expectations, though. :) And I hope he doesn't think it's too "girlie", but according to the site,

these exquisite blooms are accompanied by a ceramic, cream-colored vase that's finished using the Old World tradition of salt glazing and decorated with a gorgeous blue floral painting, the national color of Germany. It's a gift as unique as the country it's inspired by.

I think it's lovely.

A fourth sad truth to be told is that Miss O wipes my kisses off. I don't know why this bothers me, but every time I smooch her--especially a kiss on her little rosebud lips--she enthusiastically kisses me back and then wipes her lips with the back of her hand. What is that about. It's not like I lick my lips before planting one on her. If anything, that's what she does to me, because I've gotten plenty of slobbery smacks from her. Indeed, I don't see how a little kid who doesn't backwash in a cup can have such goopy smooches.

The fifth sad truth to be told: Some of you know that Super J has gone up to St Louis to visit with his Dad concerning his Mom, and Aunt D went with him. They were there to have an in-hospital "intervention" and finally face the elephant in the room: his mom needs some mental help. When we finally talked on the phone last night, I asked how it went and he sounded really optimistic, and said that it was kind of more an intervention for his dad (who was starting to have second thoughts) and a team planning meeting. What? says I. Turns out that they met with the psych doctor and actually had a great meeting about what it really means to have someone committed, how it's done, and had gained a realistic vision of what it means: it's not just a week getaway for Grandma Peters. The doctor said that this woman needed to be committed 30 years ago and there is at least 4 years of work ahead. It means that someone must become her guardian to get this accomplished. It means much more responsibility than just putting her in some building. It means...work.

I guess this reveals something that isn't really a sad truth, but just truth: all families take work. None of us are perfect, despite trying to portray and project that image. We all have ugly underbellies, somewhere, that would betray this faux perfect image we try to convince ourselves we actually have. Some of us are more upfront about that underbelly, but some of us don't want to face it...or the real extent of what must be done.

I mean, look at my side of the family. I have a brother who has just declared bankruptcy and foreclosure and his wife has never worked outside the home. To me, this is a HUGE elephant that needs to be addressed because there's an inequity to that...but that's for another post. All of my family has weight issues and none of us drink enough water or exercise enough or deal with the reasons behind this obesity. Heck! We don't even know what to get my dad for Father's Day because none of us have a consistent relationship with him. Now that is some sad truths being exposed. Oh. And my house seems like it cannot get and/or stay cleaned. That's less sad than just the way it is, but still...since I'm brimming with such honesty, let's call a spade a spade.

So, regardless of what happens with Grandma Peters, they are going forward with it and are letting the consequence follow. Super J said at least they aren't coming out of a vengeful place, but from a sincere hope that she can get and be helped. The consequences will happen, be they positive or negative, but they will happen because...that's what this life is about. And that, my Gentle Reader, is a truth both happy and sad.

Simple Pleasures

Sometimes, simple is so wonderful. Why do I not take advantage of simple things more often??????

Tonight we decided to have F.H.E. because tomorrow is going to be a crazy day (and Super J decided we needed to address a few issues on reverence that came up today during Sacrament Meeting...I wouldn't know about those issues as I was OUT in the hall, literally chasing Miss O who was dashing about like a crazed animal in our very humid church building. Nothing like going into Primary already worked up in sweat and lather. Pretty. And now, let us sing.)...wonderful but busy, you know?

So, tonight we had Cheesy Tuna Helper for dinner. That's it. No veggies. No salad. No fruit. Just tuna helper, which took maybe 15 minutes to make. Oh. And Lemon/Lime "Cool-aid" (some off brand) with only about 3/4th the sugar, but a treat none-the-less.

And for the after F.H.E. treat? Brownies. From the box. Made exactly as they were directed with nothing added (I'm quite fond of adding chocolate chips or nuts or a combo and maybe something for the top...anything to make it "special." So when I say I made it just from the box, that's something for me). Confessedly, I did offer the girls a scoop of ice cream, which 2 of the three accepted. So I gave them vanilla. Simple. Delicious (though still messy).

Okay, have to add that Miss A (the abstainer) just asked for a scoop of ice cream saying, "I always planned to have my ice cream AFTER my brownie."

Oh, uh huh? Really? I'm a sucker right now, though, so I gave her one.

Simple. Not complicated. I need to do this more often. Will I??? Nah. Probably not. But it's something I need to consider. :)

And more random musings

1. David Cook won American Idol. Yay. Good for him. I think David A. will be just fine and maybe a little better without all that pressure to be an A.I. winner. David C. is a little more mature. Super J said that he thought it was much better for David A. because he is, after all, 17 and can now do all sorts of things with his life besides being bound to a recording contract. He's probably right.

2. Miss O did not nap yesterday (remember?). Last night, I put her to bed at 8:30pm (she normally goes down around 9:30-10:00), but not before giving all the girls a little medicine because they all have been coughing up phlegm. ugh.

Guess what.

She got up this morning at 10:50am (Miss A got up at 7:00ish, which for her is late, but she came and got in bed with us and then started to snuggle with me (????) and kept talking to new baby, so I've been up since 7:00, too). I sincerely tried waking her up earlier. I even opened up her window blinds, which makes her room incredibly bright. But she was ZONKED OUT. Guess who is not napping again today? Oh yeah. Guess who's going to be a bright shiny star at Miss A's graduation tonight? Oh yeah. (answer: probably me. lolol. For both questions! lol.)

3. FINALLY! "Texas seizure of polygamist-sect kids thrown out"

"A Texas appeals court said Thursday that the state had no right to take more than 400 children from a polygamist sect's ranch, a ruling that could unravel one of the biggest child-custody cases in U.S. history.

The Third Court of Appeals in Austin ruled that the state offered "legally and factually insufficient" grounds for the "extreme" measure of removing all children from the ranch, from babies to teenagers."

This may not be enough to get the kids home (or only a small portion of it), but at least some authority has noticed. I am amazed at how little coverage it is getting, though, by the MSM. So frustrating.

More can be found HERE

4. Last night, I had trouble falling asleep. While waiting for Super J to watch A.I., I was sneaking in a bit of a chick flick and was watching a segment of the new version of Masterpiece Theatre's "Sense and Sensibility" (so beautiful! Love it) and saw the part where Marianne is talking to Elinor after she's recovered from her whole humiliation and terrible fever experience. They are speaking of the whole Willoughby fiasco and Elinor says to Marianne, "Surely you don't compare your behavior to his?" And Marianne replies, "No, I compare it to what it should have been. I compare it to yours." (that's the basic feel of the quote, though I doubt it's exact).

Boy, that got me thinking of recent events in my life where I smugly feel self-righteous about one thing or another, and then something happens where I realize how puny and insignificant I am and that I could of and SHOULD have behaved better. Been the better person.

Just ONE sad Example from only this past week (ohhhhhh, how many there have been in just this week!!!!): I was in Walmart with all three girls, prepping for Miss E's Astronaut Party. We witnessed a mom talking really mean to her kids about something goofy and trivial and I kind of "tsk, tsk'd" in my head. Well, after paying for our stuff, we head out to the car. I'm loading in bags, realizing that we'd been at Walmart for 2 hours (yegads!) and I'm tired and grumpy and I look in and Miss A is clearly not letting Miss E into the car, much less getting into her own seat and getting buckled, as instructed. So, what do *I* do? I say, "Miss A (including her middle name) Peters, what in the holy crap is that all about? Get to your seat and get buckled!" I did say crap, nothing more serious, but in that same tone we'd just heard. And guess what? Yep. Some lady was walking behind me when I said it. UGH! What goes around, comes around, I tell ya.

5. I got a call from a nurse from my insurance company. Turns out that I'd signed up for some pregnancy thing, where a nurse calls periodically to check in on you and see how you are doing. I feel a wee bit sheepish doing this, because this is my 4 and hopefully last baby. But, it was nice chatting with her. She's sending me a DVD called "Happiest Baby on the Block," which I'm excited about and she gave me some great websites. One is called Obstetrix.com and it has a section for telling your kids about pregnancy and stuff, and even has these little "cartoon" segments explaining the joys of pregnancy. So, I let Miss A watch them.

Oh dear.

She now can inform you that Super J has "sperm cells" that have secret instructions on whether the new baby will be a boy or girl (depending on whether they carry a "Y" or an "X"). I have "ovary cells," or something like that. She got to "see" how a baby grows and how the uterus contracts for the baby to come out and that we all used to have "M-bilical cords" attached to our belly buttons to feed us and give us oxygen. Good times. If you ever want to know more, just ask her. She is MORE than happy to share this new information.

6. We got a call from our house painter. Turns out that tomorrow they are coming to power wash the house and will start painting next Tuesday. That's great, except we have yet to pick a color for our house. YEGADS! Super J went to get some color swatch thingies and all, because we have to pick our color and then get it approved by the HOA of our neighborhood. Of course, I'm sleeping with the President of the HOA, so you'd think this wouldn't be a problem (ummmm...FYI: Super J *is* the Pres of the HOA, in case you didn't know), but we still need to go through the proper channels, so to speak. Nothing like making a big decision on the fly.

7. The In-laws may be coming to Miss A's graduation tonight. Will keep you posted.

8. I feel so tired. Definitely missed my nap. Will not miss this part of pregnancy. I will be an awesome mom in about...16 months. lol.

Another new skill

As I've been sitting reading our dear friend Jennifer's latest entry on her crazy great blog (and which I would love for you to read and let me know what YOU think...read the comments and you'll see what I think), Miss O has come up to me with my empty-ish EasydeX 50 bottle. She has unscrewed the lid.

Yes. That is right. She can now unscrew caps...from bottles. And sippies. Over and over. Sometimes, like just a moment ago, she'll take a cup of water that once belonged to one of her sisters from lunch and try to pour the contents into the empty-ish EasydeX 50 bottle. On the carpet.

And the good times with her just keep'a rolling along.

The good, the bad...

I...am in recovery mode.

I'm not sure what happened last night, but Miss O was up several times and Miss E kept popping up and finally decided she couldn't sleep until she'd spent at least an hour in our bed with us (I lost track of time). I eventually asked Super J to put her back to bed around 2:12 A.M. because I couldn't sleep with my sweet bambino breathing on my arm...over and over again...hot moist breath...on my arm, continuously. Or my back, if I turned over. Kinda freaked me out, as I normally am hugging a pillow that tends to be on the cool side.

Miss E is a sweetie and I don't begrudge her needing a little...security? I mean, after all, we were gone for 4 days and I think we are seeing some of the aftermath happening. But still. Holy cow.

So, I thought I'm going to look for some silver linings. Are you ready? Me, too.

1) Hopefully, this evening I'm going to a book warehouse sale with the awesome Miss A.L. Wahoo! I feel sure to find some great deals, because you get $10 off if you spend $50. I know, I know. This is the wrong reason to spend $50, but with Summer coming up, we are ready for some new books in our house collection that I don't have to hyperventilate about when Miss O starts pulling out pages and ripping covers off (which happens with library books and our preschool books). So, taking that into consideration: It is, comparatively, a SMALL price to pay.

2) Um...

3)...I know there are more.

4) Hang on...one is coming to me. Um...I am awake and here to face a new day! Unfortunately, that 85% crabbiness has been up-ed to about 97%, but that's not focusing on the silver linings in life. Moving on...

5) Oh! We are regular viewers of American Idol, and the two Davids are in the AI finale! That's fun. Out of all of the contestants, I like them the best. It took me a while to become a David Cook fan, but surely it happened. I'm not necessarily a David A. fan, but I do find his voice is often smooth and creamy, like a good yogurt (is that a compliment??? Hmmm), and I think he's honestly sweet. Unfortunately, he suffers from Mitt Romney/Mormon syndrome, where people think he's a fake kind of nice, but I think it's a mixture of being a Utah Mormon ("Gosh!" and a lack of dancing ability...not that that is a consistant thing in Utah, because BYU has some amazing dancers...holy cow!...but let's be honest and say this boy is a prime example of "The Deacon Shuffle." Sad.) and then I read an article about him being super shy, and thinking of some family members, I could actually see that, so I started cutting him some slack. How overwhelming an experience for both of these young men (Ohhhhhhh, that I am at the point to call them young men! I used to date guys the age of David Cook when I was still single. Now I'd be a cougar. Ewwwww. Thank goodness for Super J).

Anyway, I think it'll be an interesting contest because they both have such different appeals and fan bases. Seriously, Gentle Reader, did you see all the crying girls and rapturous audiences???? Truth be told, I myself cried during each of the visits back home, thinking how crazy tired these AI contestants must be and how overwhelming to feel such support from strangers who are embracing you while you are trying to fulfil a dream/goal. Craziness! This is one reason I would never want to be on AI. I get no sleep as it is, and look at how happy I am. Sheesh! I'd have been voted off very early, even if people were in love with my choir voice.

What kind of voice do you have? I mean, obviously there are people who have voices to be soloists, voices cut out to be in bands and then there are those of us who can be in choirs. I have a choir voice. It's nothing too much on it's own, but it blends really well with others. I'm okay with that. When they come out with "American Consensus Singers," I might have to sign up. There's no way I'd be cut out for the actual "AI," though. Just being honest.

6) There are more, obviously, when I look at overt silver linings that are all around me. I mean, seriously, I am BLESSED with Super J and The Misses A,E, and O. I'm enjoying a regular pregnancy and it's progressing just fine. We live in a country where there have been no earthquakes that have trapped over 20,000 and killed over 10,000 via natural disaster. I live in the land of plenty and definitely have my 3 months of storage...even as gas prices are going up, there is a sense of security. We have enough. Heck! I can afford to go buy some books for my household. So, yes. I am blessed and those are HUGE silver linings.

Perhaps I just wish that consistent sleep was part of 'em, too, at this point because I gotta tell ya...I feel like I was hit by a bus!

Have a great day! I'm working on mine. :)

Skill Learning: The Wonders of Closing a Door

There are many things we learn as we grow and gain experience and wisdom. Don't you agree with that, Gentle Reader?

One of the things that I am waiting for my sweet offspring to learn is how to shut a door...properly. Don't get me wrong...they can shut the door just fine. But when they shut it, they don't turn the knob--at all. Instead, they just pull the door closed and it comes awfully close to a slam, but without the mean intent or intensity.

Miss E is especially adept at this type of closure.

I've been noticing the past few days since my return that she closes all doors this way, especially bathrooms. When I'm in them (Note to parents of smaller children who are not capable of turning knobs yet: when they figure it out, you'd better be prepared to lock the bathroom doors OR have visitors while taking care of business. Seriously. I don't think I've...um...powered my nose during the day, by myself [not counting recent vacation] since eh, maybe 5 years ago, that I have not greeted at least once by a daughter. It's not the worst thing in the world, but I'm just saying, don't say you haven't been warned). I'd be a little worried if I hadn't noticed Miss A doing this as well.

So, what does one do? I've verbally explained stuff to them, but so far, no takers. Hmmmm. Perhaps this is a special F.H.E. family activity where we go over it and practice??? Would that be good? The only problem is that right now, Miss O has not figured out how to turn knobs yet, so I don't really want to draw attention to it just yet. I think.

Instead, I shall just grouse to you, Gentle Reader. For now. I'll keep you posted on these events. Much like yesterday's bout with Miss O, if I weren't crabby 85% of the time, it probably wouldn't bother me (as I said before, I've just recently caught on to this fact myself--not that I'm crabby 85% of the time [sadly, I'm all to aware of that], but the door issue) and I'd let our public school systems teach my kids these skills (I jest! I jest!). We'll see how long I can last in my current state of annoyed apathy. But I just wanted to share. :)

Ooooooo Miss O and Miss Grumpy Pants

I gotta say with lots of love, Miss O is at that age where sometimes, honestly, she is a very trying little girl.

We have been up since about 8:00. So far, "we" have dumped water not once, not twice, but THREE times. Gosh! Maybe even four times, because at one point, she was pouring water from one cup to another...so I lose count. But it's definitely more than once. All while I am trying to get Miss E's cake done for her birthday. GRRRRRR. She's also gotten into all the wipes, and then found all the empty boxes of wipes and brought them all out (don't ask why I haven't pitched these empty containers. I'm sure I read about some fabulous storage idea in "Real Simple" magazine). She's currently carrying the boxes from one room to the next and trying to sit on them.

I am 100% sure that if I wasn't trying to get stuff done, none of this would bother me. Okay. I lie. All the water dumping would and does bother me. But the wipe thing...I'm kinda used to that by now, as it seems to be a rite of passage when you are in your (near) two's. But right now, I'm so dang grumpy it's not even funny.

Hmmmmm...did I mention I just got back from a great getaway with Super J? Yes. It only took 24 hours for me to snap like a crazed thing at my kids yesterday...around 5:47ish. I know because I looked at the clock, having realized I'd just done it. How sad is that?

UPDATE 1: Just had to put Miss O in time out because she was pitching a fit concerning moving chairs and touching the computer's on/off button. She keeps telling me "NO! NO! NO!" and I keep telling her, "I know! That's what I'm saying, too." So, to the step she went and I sat by her and waxed eloquent to my 22 month old about how frustrating it is not to get our own way, etc. etc. She is continuing to cry during my little sermon. Then all of a sudden, she stops. She looks at me and I swear, she says, "I feel better, Momma." We hug and she gets up, fit over. Bizarre.

UPDATE 2: 10 minutes later. Keep in mind, I'm still in my pajama's and didn't bother with a bath yesterday. Thus, I look pretty darn scary. There is a knock at the door. I make a mad dash to put something more appropriate on (pants verses pj shorts) and answer it. Two sweet Jehovah's Witnesses are there. They ask how I feel about the current state of the world, bringing up the scary things that are going on, including how terrible gas prices are, and I tell them that I am LDS and that we need to be wise, not panic, but realize that there is hope and that all this is part of a plan. They share a scripture out of Revelations and agree that there is hope. They leave a pamphlet (it will refer me to scriptures from my own Bible...loved that) and I ask if they need water or anything. Nope. They've just started out and are doing well. I wish them luck and share that I did this when I was 21 and know it's not the easiest thing sharing messages of hope, and they depart with smiles and waves from the girls.

And guess who doesn't feel quite so grumpy. :)

Company is coming, so you know what that means...

The month of May is here. Welcome to you, May.

This is a strange and bewildering time for me and my family, and here is why. I have different sets of company coming for visits on multiple weekends during this particular month AND I'm going out of town for my getaway with Superman J (who said I could just call him Super J on the blog because then I don't have to type as much...feel the love.) AND it's Miss E's birthday, which means we finally get to have the "astronaut" party she's been telling EVERYONE she's going to have for the last year or so. I'm already tired! I'm not 100% sure why everyone seems to have picked May for the time to visit the Zoo Peters' Casa, though I do know *I'm* not supposed to travel after July, but still.

What this means, Gentle Reader, is that I'm very excited to see my many friends; yet it also means that my O.C.D. (not to be confused with C.O.D. which I just typed) is going to require me that I keep my house spotless prior to each guests arrival. Either that, or I will finally learn that all important life lesson that it's okay to have an almost tidy house when company comes...but I am pretty sure it'll be the first.

For me, I have an unspoken (till now) inner mantra that says, "The first time someone comes into my home, they should be greeted with it clean and spotless, a wonder to behold, so that they know that I am capable of cleaning even in the midst of all my little children and other daily things of life." After that, tidied up will do for any other visits (because they will already know I can clean the dickens out of my house!). As Super J has pointed out to me on several occasions, this is not realistic (to say the least!), and as my pregnancy moves on, it's really just a great way to get tired by 12:39 in the afternoon. Let's check the time: 2:15 by my computers clock. I am very tired. BUT!!!! My upstairs looks great and I just need to fold some laundry and I'm almost ready for company.

I say almost because my friend is going to be delayed by a few hours and will be arriving later. I am both bummed and glad about it...bummed because I won't have as much time to visit with her, and glad because I still have the downstairs to polish up, so I actually have been able to slow down my frantic cleaning (hence, why my rear is planted in front of the computer) and I'm even thinking of a nap very shortly. Wahoo.

This still does not fix the "issue" of cleaning with the zeal of a fleet of Merry Maids. I'm not sure what will. Actually that is a lie...because any time I get a weird jab of pain, I sit my keister down. But still. That doesn't fix the inner need to impress people who I know already love me and could care less what my house looks like.

OOOOOHHHHHHHHMYHOLYCOW. ARGH!

***NEWS BULLETIN***Here is a huge subject change and you are here to witness it fresh and raw, Gentle Reader: Miss E stayed home from school (dratted fever) and has fallen asleep on the couch. It is 2:26. Things could be worse than having a kinda sick kid fall asleep in the afternoon when they usually don't nap. Miss A has finished playing a game and went over to pester her. I told her to get away from her and let her sleep. Did she? No. I tell her again. Does she? No. AGAIN, I tell her to leave her alone and let her sleep. Nope. Now my keister has left the computer chair and I have now sent Miss A to her room....ohhhhhhhhhhh I am MAD.

HELLO! I am SPEAKING to you, Eldest Daughter (actually, I'm not speaking to her now...I'm just typing what I was thinking). How can my children...my own fruit of my womb, ignore me like that, until I get my Devil Mom voice going. Then we all feel terrible. ARGH. I try to remember what it must have been like as a child, to have a mom who told you what to do oh-so-very often, but in the golden glow of personal memory, I was never a pesky child (except for rare occasions).

Alrighty. Thank you for letting me get that out. Good to vent that before going in and visiting with said Eldest Daughter madder than a fury. Breathing in...breathing out. In with the calm, nurturing Mother air...out with the crazed She-Devil who wants to spank. In with the calm, out with the crazed. In...Out. In. Out.

Okay, I'm better. Whoooooooo-ew.

It's during moments like these when I am sooooo ready for my little getaway. But first, gotta deal with Miss A and then get back to folding. I still have company coming.

Have a good first day of May, Gentle Reader!

The Further Adventures of Miss O

The Setup: Another slow morning at the Zoo Peter's casa. Miss A spiked a fever yesterday, so we kept her home from school today. TMI: Miss O and I were visited by the "'rheas" last night, but they seem to have passed (HALLELUJAH!). Miss E and Superman J seemed to have avoided the latest viral whatever (at least, that is what we are hoping). But I was still movin' a-slowly this morning.

So, I was chatting with my friend, JK's mom, on the phone and we were also debating if we could get ourselves and the kiddos ready for playgroup in any reasonable amount of time when, what should I hear????? That would be Miss O getting herself some water out of the dispenser on the fridge's door. Yes, this means that I forgot to lock it (CURSES!!!!!!!!) and that she has gotten A.LOT of water from the dispenser. So much so that it has filled the entire faux "take-up" tray and has seeped wherever it does so it drips from the bottom of the door. (once again: CURSES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!). Naturally, the floor is covered and a long trail is running "downhill" (???) towards our bathroom.

As you may ascertain, I have certain spots of my kitchen floor that remain S.P.O.T.L.E.S.S. thanks to my child and her daily pilgrimage to Any Water Source she can find.

I get the floor cleaned up and find one side of Miss O is quite...wet. "You will dry," I tell her. I am, sadly, a little miffed with this whole thing.

About 40 minutes later (I kid you not!), I'm working on getting Miss E dressed (though I have to say that I am now ready, so maybe it's not that bad, but still...movin' a-slowly) and I hear Miss O. She is kind of crying, but it sounds much like her "Mom! I've locked myself in a closet and no one will get me out" kind of cry, so I figure she is okay, just locked in a closet and I'm very close to getting Miss E finished.

Once she is dressed, I follow the whimpering and discover that Miss O is NOT locked in a closet...no. She has taken herself into her sisters' bathroom and opened the lid, climbed upon the toilet withOUT the smaller toilet ring and sat. And leaned back. And fell, then kinda folded in half, like you'd close a book (are you getting this mental picture). Straight into the cold toilet water, so that her bum is in the water, her diaper is absorbing who knows how much of it, and her legs are sticking out of the bowl. Her arms are on the toilet seat and she's looking at me like, "What the heck????? Get me OUT of here!"

And, Gentle Reader. I. LAUGH. SO. HARD. Yes! I'll admit it. Even if it makes me a terrible mom, and I'll now probably be sent straight to the Unholy Hot Place, but this was the funniest thing I'd seen and maybe there was a teensy part of me that was kinda, "Serves You Right!" (but only because she wasn't hurt, mind you. I'm not that evil). Soooooo funny.

In the meantime, she'd taken on so much water that I definitely had to change her from top to bottom. But I laughed the entire time I was doing it.

And then we went to playgroup. lololololololol. It's still making me smile.