So be safe and have fun. And come home soon; we're tired of sharing you.
Friday, August 29, 2008
So be safe and have fun. And come home soon; we're tired of sharing you.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Elaine, turning to make sure I wasn't running to stop her, which is usually the case because that gate was accidentally left open and unsupervised.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
My eyes sparkled a little. "That would be great!"
A few minutes later, "The ladies may like to ride along as well, you could take my van..." I hesitated to see if she thought I was joking or if she'd take me seriously.
"That's a great idea!"
And that is the tale of how grandma and grandpa gave me a few hours respite this weekend with a car trip to the airport, an airshow they stayed for, and pictures with flying friends. And grandpa came and played, and the boys were beside themselves to have the airplane man back around.
And it went so well, they did it again when it was time to take Al back to his plane the next morning.
On the phone I said something like, "I'm changing the sheets. I'm mopping the floor. I got the laundry going," all with a little glee because I got to do that without people hanging off of me.
Her reply exactly: "That's sick Susan."
Monday, August 25, 2008
We drove a, um, I don't know what that is.
Friday, August 22, 2008
I think they had a little help building that one.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
So on to the main event. We put out the potty chair. Nicholas gets it; he leaves it alone. Benjamin thinks it's a new toy and runs all over the house with it, tears it apart, beats his brother with it. Now they are fighting over the potty chair. Nice. Now the girls are fighting over it. Except, let's be honest, they are still putting everything in their mouths--ewwwww.
We put the potty chair in the bathroom behind the door. Out of sight, out of mind. Not helpful.
We come to a hybrid solution. We take the baseballs off the bathroom door and use the doughnuts in the toilet and start taking them to the toilet every two hours, but if they feel inclined they can get in the door themselves, which helps because now we can ask them to go wash their hands and just check up on them in the end. Now they get in the bathroom by themselves and need to wash their hands like obsessive-compulsives, which maybe they are. I don't know. They always leave the door open, which would be awesome because who wants their 2-year-old closed up in the bathroom? Oh yeah, I do. Because now the girls are in the toilet water with their hands. Nice.
The boys now have the skills to get naked by themselves entirely. And they use those skills--to poop on the patio when playing outside.
And then there is this. Nicholas is upstairs yesterday and needs to poop he says. Ben is on the potty that I hauled out because the doughnut is missing. Doughnut is missing? Yes. Missing. Crap. Someone must have hauled it off. Nicholas needs it, and I got nothing. We go downstairs to the other toilet. And I tell him to do his thing, and I run back upstairs to check on Benjamin because I trust him maybe a little less. The girls have gotten in the bathroom are falling in the empty tub, climbing the stool to the stool, and Ben is still trying to potty because he is convinced that he needs to even though his training pant was soaked when I took it off (heaven help me if I hadn't put that out of the girls' reach). I grab the girls, get them out of the bathroom, shut Benjamin in the bathroom (yes, shut Benjamin in the bathroom by himself. The two-year-old is shut in the bathroom because that is the safest option at the moment.) Run downstairs leaving the girls screaming upstairs. Nicholas didn't make it. He pooped on the foot stool he was supposed to use to get up to the potty, which he never actually uses preferring instead this weird monkey mount of the toilet from the side using hands and feet.
I have no idea why every one is so excited about potty training; I can accomplish 4 diaper changes in 4 minutes anywhere and be done with it.
As the exhausted children went to bed on time without vomiting nor complaining. I tore into that box that had been sitting there. As a model of efficiency, I made my own didn't-pay-a-million-dollars-to-Starbucks-iced-chai and THEN I changed into my perfect for relaxing Quintons T-Shirt (and started getting hungry) and THEN I took in the rest of the care package: breakfast M&Ms, double packages of Double Mint gum, and yeah, she even thought of the children with some treats for the maniacs. Then an e-mail of thanks, and she wonders did I really already make myself chai? Um, yeah. I was already on my second by that point... Thanks Dukes. But don't worry, I will still be getting my coffee exclusively from here. My mind is trying to form a Quintons/J&S/Chai bar in my neighborhood that would be hooked to the daycare with a drive through at the moment.
Later: Why potty training two with two in the wings is complicated, to put it mildly.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
It didn't happen again. I assumed car sick. And we went to church. The girls screamed their fool heads off in the nursery, but by the time I came back everyone was smiling and laughing. "The girls had a wonderful morning!" Car sick was cemented in my brain at that moment.
Sunday evening after naps and Popsicles, Alida pukes in the laundry room. Good girl! Such a smart girl to puke right next to the washing machine, on tile floor and you didn't grab at it! Good girl.
Denial Number 2: You must have gotten too hot outside.
Brilliant Idea Number One: Let's go have dinner.
Alida pukes in her high chair. While still over the tile floor, it was all over her and in her tray. That's right, perfect for playing in. And she starts laughing. We spent the evening waiting for more. None.
Brilliant Idea Number Two: Let's have a bottle and go to bed.
Elaine knocks out. Alida pukes. The boys are at least watching a movie. Put Alida on the floor, she passes out in her blanket. Change sheets; change girl. Back to bed.
And all is well. Monday morning breaks. There are smiles. There are no fevers. There is no puking in the land.
Until 3:45 in the afternoon when daycare calls:
"Mrs. Stuber. I'm calling because of Benjamin.
(In my head: thank goodness it wasn't Alida; I've been waiting for that call all day long. He probably broke his arm or something, no big deal.)
He just threw up all over the playground."
Take Ben home to puke again. Nicholas gets mad at all the attention that Ben is getting, and he pukes now too. Although that little man walked right over to the bucket and aimed well. Thank you son. The boys now get all the attention, and the girls are shuttled upstairs to play in the playroom safety zone on their own while we clean up.
Baths all around. Third load of laundry started. Clorox out. Dishwasher started. Everyone in bed.
(Man, I just want to open the mail because there is a box there from the Duke's mom that I really, really want to see.)
Over the racket of every machine in my house chugging along cleaning everything I could fit in a machine, I missed hearing the ruckus upstairs. However, I made it up to check at least before opening that box and found that Nicholas had made the bucket--and the bed and his clothes and the floor. We go out to get new clothes.
"New, new, new clothes mommy?"
Who are these people that are happy after they puke?
All are cleaned and tucked in bed with new, new, new sheets, blankets and pillows, and I finish cloroxing the entire house and pass out in the extra bedroom that is close to their room, and that box is still sitting there calling to me right now.
Daycare rule: no temp, no problem. As long as they aren't puking. This morning, no one was puking, all were happy, and there were no fevers. We've made it to 11:30 now. We'll see what the rest of the day holds for us.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Elaine was not a peach this time, and the Legos aren't a usual part of this scene I don't believe.