Breaking News from Potty-Gate

Due to various insanity and over-scheduling, I was unable to do my grocery shopping on Saturday as I have been. Therefore, when my children asked for scrambled eggs Monday morning, there were no eggs. Cereal? No milk. Pop-tarts? Uh-uh. So....I was forced to forage for food with my two "assistants." We had several errands to run, went to lunch, and hit Wal-Mart and the grocery store. Since I'm neither an idiot nor a glutton for punishment, I made the Executive Decision to put Fat Baby in a pull-up (actually a Good Nights, because he out-weighs the pull-ups now!) Anyway...as soon as we got home, I took him to the potty and resumed his underwear wardrobe. Which was fine for the rest of the afternoon.

UNTIL...I was in the middle of cooking dinner. As my menu plan post states, I was planning to fry okra for my sweet daddy. (He doesn't ask for much). So, I have roast in the oven, potatoes boiling to be mashed, peas cooking, and my electric skillet (a kitchen essential) filled with hot oil awaiting the lightly breaded fresh okra.

At that moment... (Pop had helped me around the house all day & had just settled in for his retirement-earned daily nap)At that exact moment, when My Baby's Daddy was probably 45 minutes from arriving home...when I was the only available adult...Fat Baby rounded the corner with his underwear inside-out in his hand. FULL. OF. POOP!!!! Poop was spread all over his arms & legs from the process of his removing the offensive underwear. And where was he when he decided to remove his poopy pants? The TOP BUNK!

I very nearly had a nervous breakdown. But, as Moms (who have no choice) do, I cleaned the mess, scrubbed myself as if I were going to perform surgery, and resumed cooking dinner.

Yesterday, he went to preschool (in underwear---how else is he going to learn?) and he stayed clean ALL DAY LONG! Hooray! Even with going out for The President's baseball team party, he was dry until bedtime. We might have turned a corner...but seriously, I deserved it.

Give me a break...really.

We're on Spring Break. Hooray! I do so enjoy a break...of course, if Christmas break is any indication it's not much of a break for me. I don't like to travel during Spring Break, because I don't want to waste a trip on iffy weather. I will however, plan non-stop days o' fun. Here's how our week is shaping up:

Friday a.m.: take everybody to school and frantically clean house and make sure all the linens are clean for sleepover guests (before I go to work)

2:40 p.m., Friday: Spring Break offically begins when school is out.

Around 3:45 p.m.: My mom, step-father, sister, nephew and niece arrive for a visit. Since I worked (outside the home!) on Friday, I opted for us to go out to dinner instead of cooking.

Saturday a.m.: make delicious and healthy fruit salad for breakfast, color 5 dozen hard-boiled eggs with kids for egg hunt later in the day, stuff plastic "prize eggs," organize treats and prizes

Noon-ish: prepare for a late lunch (hamburgers & hotdogs on the grill), hide and hunt eggs, and again...and again....lots of fun memories & photo ops, finally have lunch about 3:00

6:00 p.m.: family leaves...na na na na hey hey hey goodbye!

6:01 p.m. until bedtime: frantically try to restore some semblance of order to house

Monday: leave kids home (thanks, Pop!) so I can work a few hours. Pop gets combat pay for taking them to McD's on Spring Break.

This morning, 11:00 a.m.: leave the house for mandatory shopping, as we have Easter on Sunday and a wedding to attend Saturday...I put off the two hardest to fit (Fat Baby and moi) until the very. last. minute.

12:30 p.m.: My Baby's Daddy meets us for lunch, and takes a little extra time to entertain the troops while I try some things on.

1:45 p.m.: Time to say good-bye to daddy, and I've purchased an outfit & a back-up. Feeling pretty good.

About 2:15 p.m.: Cut the brothers some slack & take time-out for a carousel ride. (Thanks, Mommy!)

2:30 p.m.: Hit the children's section of my favorite department store for Fat Baby's spring wardrobe. Score some cute (on sale!) and fabulously preppy things that help me forget that I'm in mourning that The Era of The Jon-Jon is over. I loved the jon jon...dress it up, dress it down, wear it for play, for church, barefoot, with shoes, and with a monogram...forget it! It just doesn't get better than that! That boy could work a jon jon like nobody's business! Why don't they make jon jons in size 6 for a three-and-a-half year old?!?! Ummm, okay, never mind.

3:30 p.m.: Leaving the mall. Fat Baby's eyes are closed before we even leave the parking lot. Less than 5 minutes later, he begins to cry/moan with no tears and his eyes still closed. I thought he was uncomfortable & couldn't get to sleep.

3:40 p.m.: Fat Baby tosses his cookies. A lot.

3:42 p.m.: Pull into a Texaco station to attempt cleanup effort.

3:50 p.m.: Leave Texaco with pukey clothes tied up in shopping bag. Fat Baby asleep by 3:51.

6:00 p.m.: My family gets BLTs for dinner, with Oscar Meyer ready-to-cook bacon that I make My Baby's Daddy heat in the microwave. They better be glad they even got to eat.

Tomorrow's plan may include seeing the doctor, and definitely includes seeing a matinee of Horton Hears a Who! I'm not going to let a little throwing up stop me...oh, and three diarrhea diapers (about 5:15, 7:00, and 15 minutes ago).

Tomorrow night I plan to make Easter forgotten cookies. I'll post the recipe next time, because if you're even still reading this now you deserve a medal. Anyway, the cookies are cool and teach children the Easter story as they bake them.

Friday, we're taking a little side road trip to the Georgia Aquarium. Then a distant family wedding (also in GA) on Saturday. Come home late Saturday, Easter Bunny shows up, up Sunday for church...did I mention it's my week to teach Sunday school?!? and then Easter. Oh, and I guess we'll need a special family Easter lunch celebration...

When does school start back?

Crap

This morning, I found myself feeling creative & with a few minutes to spare. So I made a little note with scrapbook paper & stickers to go in The President's lunchbox. It said, "YOU ROCK! Have a great day. I love you, Mom"
(I occasionally surprise him with a little note. One day last year, he sent the note back & had written "Thanck you" on the back) I pretty much forgot about it until I picked him up this afternoon & some little punkass kid says, "The President hated that note you sent today."

Well, my sweet and sensitive first born just absolutely lost it. He began sobbing and saying, "No I didn't Mom...I LOVED it! I really did, Mom. It was a great note & I loved it."

I didn't have time to talk to the teacher (until later this evening at our PTO meeting), but she did reprimand the child & remind him that "we've already discussed this at snack time."

I was heartbroken for my son, and hopeful that my well-intentioned note hadn't caused him to be ridiculed. Mostly though, I was pissed. Kids are so mean. I told The Pres that if he still wanted me to send surprise notes I would. And maybe there might just be an extra surprise...like cash or chocolate, so he could taunt the kid & say, "Yeah, I really hate it that my mom sent me this special note!!!

I have PMS, too. I am ready to put on my pjs and enjoy Dancing With the Stars.

Oh, and Fat Baby put his hands down the back of his pants and finger-painted with poop today.

Shameless Plug, Potty Training Woes, and Google

In keeping with the theme of Extreme Home Makeover, Southern Fried Family edition, I have decided that I need to re-decorate my existing home, and plan the decorating of my upcoming new home. Because I basically want 90% of the stuff in the catalog, I decided to do this. I became a consultant to re-coup the money I spent on the starter kit, and to earn some more fabulous stuff for my own home. If you want to have a virtual home show...let me know! I'll be more than happy to get you the info.
You, too can become an honorary Southerner--the merchandise can be shipped anywhere, so even my Yankee friends can participate! Check it out, and place an order! Seriously. You know it's calling you.

Secondly, this so-called potty training business...I shamelessly admit that The President was trained by the daycare & I backed it up at home. Easy-peasy. He was also the over-acheiving, compliant first born. So, here I am with #2 (who is my "challenging" child) sitting day in & day out in the bathroom every time he says, "I'm pooping!" (This means any number of things: "Hey, I pooped--now clean it up!" or "I need to poop, and have a skid mark, but when you sit me on the throne, I'll squeeze my cheeks back together and force it back up" or maybe, "I'm about to mess with your head, mom! You are my puppet!") He seems to have no concept of tee-tee. He doesn't tell you he's done it (even when he's half naked & does it on the floor in the kitchen; in fact, I don't think know he does it. I have spent more time camping out in the potty than I ever did with the Pres & he still doesn't seem to know or care what it's all about. Whatever. I never met a grown-up who wasn't potty trained.

I've been meaning to post some of the "interesting" Google searches that led people to this blog:

tonsil cheese pictures--ewwwwwwww! That's just dis-gust-ing! Yuck.

get my swell on at the gym--and you ended up here?!?!

Hannah Montana boobies--shout out to my 11 year old readers!

naked Southern moms--uh, yeah....hate to disappoint you. Just for fun, I'd almost do it. I guarantee the perv would be careful what wished for next time!

Keepin' It Real

I rushed out to a meeting last night. It was the end of a long, frazzled, blazing hot day. I don't think I even took the time to brush my teeth & reapply lipstick after dinner, because I was running late. After the meeting, I spoke to a very sweet (and cute, and skinny) acquaintance of mine who also serves on the board. She was dressed in her "grown-up" career clothes & I had on a casual but cute sleveless top & denim bermuda shorts. Okay, everyone does tell me that the particular blouse is the best color evah for me...but, still. Long, crazy, freakin' hawt day. Sweet friend looks adorable & fresh as a daisy (as usual). After the meeting, she rushes up to me and says, "Oh, my GOSH...you look fabulous!!! I need to be doing whatever you've been doing! You look great!"

The only difference I can see is a few extra pounds, a leftover tan, and the flat-ironed hair. I tell you, I'm on to something with this straight hair thing. Oh yeah, and the stress. This has been the most traumatic, difficult, stressful, and life-changing year I've ever faced. I can literally feel myself aging.

But, this really cute and perky girl is standing here telling me how great I look. And you know what? I started to feel great. My long-ish, straight-ish hair felt all bouncy. I remembered I was in my A-game shirt. Yeah, I do look kind of great....I couldn't wait to get home & stand in front of the mirror to examine myself for signs of cuteness.

Of course, I was greeted with bath time on a School Night. Cute Girl suddenly turns back into Sweaty, Wilting Cess Pool of Motherhood. Oh yeah, and Fat Baby crapped in the tub. After I clean it out, get him back in and bathed, he begins to poke around my arm flab. He investivates the fat-dimples and asks, "Boo-boos?"

Thanks for bringing things back into perspective, Fat Baby.

So it's come to this....

Not only did I send My Baby's Daddy a text message (while he was in a meeting out of state), to document this monumental occasion...I am so darn excited that I felt compelled to share Fat Baby's latest accomplishment with the whole internet!

Only a mother could take pictures of POOP and keep an honest-to-God straight face...I was downright giddy! The proud pooper was given Yogos and put a sticker on the calendar to celebrate being a big boy.