The Big One never really went through the “Terrible Twos.” She instead waited until she turned three to become a terror. The Little One, on the other hand, has determined that being two means being a huge pain in the posterior end.
…..
The Little One is sassy. She pushes buttons and she still gets into everything.
…..
The Big One pooped this morning and needed help wiping her butt. Oh the joys! She’s had some regularity issues and prior to yesterday had not gone in nine days. So I didn’t mind helping. It was reassuring to me that maybe she is back on track, so to speak.
…..
So I grabbed the flushable wipes and did what needed to be done. I then noticed red all over the wipes. Since she had been having poop issues, I was worried that it was blood. (TMI, I know! She will love me when she is 16!)
…..
So I checked her out and she looked fine. I was perplexed as to where the red color came from. Well, I had used the last wipe, so I opened the container to re-fill it with wipes and found my answer.
…..
The Little One, who is a pack rat in training, decided that the wipes box was apparently a good place to store a whole handful of colored Goldfish crackers. I kid you not. The wipes container was full of smooshed, soggy and gross colored Goldfish… thus explaining why the wipes were red.
…..
Honestly, who does stuff like that? Oh yeah, my two-year-old.
I think one of my least favorite parts of parenting is the anticipation of a night full of vomit. I know it’s early in the morning and that is not a pretty visual, but it’s been my reality two of the last three nights.
…
I tried to do something good for myself by joining the YMCA. So on Friday, we went to check it out. I planned to drop the girls off in the play area and then go swim. I was hesitant because the Little One still freaks out sometimes on Sundays when we leave her in Sunday School. But on Friday things were okay. They girls were happily playing and I got to swim for a good 40 minutes.
…
I was feeling great. I exercised and the girls got to play. It was all good. Until about 1 o’clock on Saturday morning when the Husband and I were awakened by the Little One’s tell-tale “I puked” shriek. She screamed, I jumped up and told the husband that the Little One just puked. He of course didn’t believe that I could predict that from our bedroom. (he was wrong!).
…
So we spent an hour cleaning up the Little One, her bed, carpet and bathroom. I finally get her back in bed and then crawled back into my bed. The Husband had already started snoring as I lay there waiting and wondering when or if it was going to happen again. I laid there a good couple hours just waiting to hear her cough, gag and then scream. It never came, fortunately.
…
Fast forward to last night. It was around 12:45 a.m. when the Big One woke me up. She was standing in my doorway (the baby gate is up to keep Gracie Lou in my room, she still cannot have free reign of my house at night!) whining that her tummy hurt. I told her to go lay back down. I got up and checked her temperature. She’s got a low-grade fever.
…
I knew what was coming next, it was a matter of when. So I went back to bed and waited. It took about 20 minutes before I heard a similar shriek to the one I heard a couple nights before. Thankfully the Big One is quick enough and got to the bathroom in time. So the clean-up was minimal. She still wanted to take a bath, so I bathed her and then got her back in bed at around 1:30 a.m.
…
Then I waited. And waited. And waited. As I laid there waiting to see if there was going to be more puke, I decided that exercise must be bad, why else would both my kids be sick? I’m kidding. I hope I can get them well in a couple more days and we will try the Y again.
…
I just wish there was some kind of detector to tell me if the puke incident was a one-time deal or a marathon was in store. I would certainly get a lot more sleep!
…
Oh and by the way, where is the Husband? Yep, you guessed it gone for the week. He at least got to experience one night of fun with me!
Okay, so I know that I shot myself in the foot so to speak with potty training the Little One. She was ready several months ago and I was not. So now that I am ready she is not interested.
…..
With the Big One, we bribed her with one M&M and a sticker for every time she went on the potty. That was all the motivation she needed.
…..
The Little One is not so easy. She is not too interested in one M&M. So then I tried to bribe her with her a Good Nite Lite. She loves the Big One’s. I told her if she went on the potty that she could have her own sun and moon.
…..
She was really excited about that prospect…. For about an hour.
…..
The Big One really wants the Little One to experience all the fun stuff at preschool, so she wants the Little One to get potty trained.
…..
The other day, I was trying to convince the Little One to sit on the potty, when the Big One put her hand on my arm and said, “WAIT! Mommy, let me try.”
….
I laughed and said go for it.
…..
Next thing I know the Big One offers a Hershey Kiss for pee on the potty. Of course the Little One got super excited, raced for the potty, dropped her pants and diaper and peed on the potty.
….
Apparently one M&M was not enough chocolate for the Little One, but a Hershey Kiss got her going (literally).
….
Of course, then the Big One expected a Hershey Kiss for getting the Little One to go.
I confess it’s been a couple weeks since I have cleaned the girls’ bathroom. Nobody goes in there, but them, so it’s pretty low on my priority list. So today we were in cleaning mode. The Husband washed both cars, I gave the dog a bath and decided it was time to tackle the girls’ bathroom.
…..
Just an aside the dog gets bathed about as often as the girls’ bathroom gets cleaned. Hmmm, wonder if there is a connection between the Husky/German Shephard mix getting a bath and the bathroom becoming uninhabitable? I think there is. If you know a trick to get your dog to shake the excess water off at the right time, please let me know.
…..
Anyway this is not about dog hair, it’s about toothpaste.
….
My title is definitely not in jest, I honest to goodness wonder if any of the toothpaste gets on their teeth. I found it on the counter, mirror, floor, wall, towels, baseboards, step stools and everywhere else imaginable.
….
How is it possible to get toothpaste everywhere?
…..
If there was a way to gather up and measure how much toothpaste I found, I am certain it would have been at least one full tube of it. I know it’s only going to get worse in their bathroom from here on out. So the question then becomes, how old is old enough to start cleaning it themselves?
Obviously Santa does not read my blog. If he did read my blog, he would know that baby dolls with clothes are not supposed to enter my house.
…..
For any of you who may have missed the rules pertaining to baby dolls, here is the link:
http://fixitmommy.com/2008/12/29/important-announcement-re-baby-dolls/
…..
For Christmas the Big One received a Dora doll complete with clothes, shoes, ice skates, ice skating dress and pajamas. Did you catch that? Not only one set of clothing to change into, but three different outfits and essentially two pairs of shoes.
…..
The Big One in the last couple days has suddenly taken a liking to this particular Dora doll. And more importantly she has taken to changing Dora’s clothes 18 times a day. It’s all fine and good during the day. I figure the shoes and skates will be stretched out soon enough that they won’t stay on and I can throw them in the trash. But the clothes are a whole other ballgame.
…..
Sometimes the Big One gets Dora changed with relative ease, sometimes she melts down and freaks out.
…..
So tonight, just as last night, the Big One decided that when it was time for her to go upstairs for tubby time, that Dora too needed to get her pajamas on and go to sleep.
…..
The Husband laid down the law last night that Dora was not allowed in bed. It was a good thing, the last thing I wanted was a meltdown at 2 a.m. because Dora’s ice skate was somewhere in her bed. So tonight as the Big One struggled to get Dora’s dress off so that she could put her Pajamas on, she started whining.
…..
I offered to help and quickly surmised the problem. Dora’s arm had been rotated all the way around so that her elbow was facing forward (OUCH!). So I said, “Well the problem is you’ve got her arm all jacked up.”
…..
So then of course she asked me what “jacked up” meant. So I told her it was just messed up and needed to be turned the right way.
…..
I thought end of story. I took Dora’s dress off and put her pajama pants on. I gave the doll back to the Big One to put Dora’s pajama top on. Next thing I hear is, “ UGGGGGGHHHHHHH this arm is all jacked up!”
…..
Nice, huh?
…..
Yes, I could take the blame for her newfound catch phrase, but it’s so much easier to blame it on Santa. If there were no Dora doll with clothes, this would have never happened in the first place. Damn you Santa.
I don’t even know how to start this one. This was the craziest thing ever. At preschool, the Big One made a crown, complete with sparkly jewels and all. She had four extra jewels in her hand as we headed for the Mom-mobile.
…..
As she climbed into her seat, she started freaking out because she suddenly only had three jewels. She started crying, “My pink one! I lost the pink one!”
…..
I admit I was a bit annoyed. We have a bag full of theses same jewels at home, so really I didn’t see the need for the drama.
…..
As she continues freaking out, I am struggling to get her carset buckled. The top buckle was latched and I was trying to fit the two metal pieces into the lower buckle. For some reason, the metal tab would not go in the hole.
…..
Getting frustrated, I announced, “What the heck?” and then peered into the buckle to see what was going on. 
…..
What do you think I saw lodged perfectly inside the buckle? Yep, a pink jewel. Are you kidding me? I tried tapping the buckle and shaking it upside down to no avail. The jewel was not moving.
…..
I searched my glove box for something to try and pry the thing out. Nothing.
…..
So then I went back into the preschool to see if they by chance had some tweezers. Of course, Ms. Jessica, the preschool director, is cracking up laughing and shaking her head in disbelief as I tell her what the problem is.
…..
No luck. So I call the Husband to see if he can drive 30 miles home to get me some tweezers or needle nose pliers or something. He doesn’t answer his phone.
…..
I did one last search and found a pair of scissors in my “emergency box” and was finally able to pluck the jewel out of the buckle.
…..
Guess what I am buying next time I go to WalMart? Yep, tweezers, two sets; one for my car and one for the preschool!
The Big One will tell you that she already knows everything. Well last night she proved that she certainly knows more than I sometimes give her credit for.
…..
The Husband has a cold. He sounds and feels miserable. Last night I told him he had 24 hours to feel better because I planned to go to a Pampered Chef party tonight at a friend’s house. So in reminding him of my plans, I stopped short of saying where the party was going to be held.
…..
I knew that if I said whose house it was at, the Big One would start freaking out that she wanted to come with me. Her newest best buddy at preschool is Abby and Abby’s mom is having the party. So to avoid a scene (or so I thought), I said the party was at A-B-B-Y’s house.
…..
I barely got the Y spelled out when the Big One shouted, “HEY! That’s my friend Abby’s name!”
…..
Seriously, she can spell friend’s names now? I know she can spell her own, the Little One’s, and a few other words, like Mommy, Daddy and pizza. But her friend’s name????
…..
I am going to have to come up with a new code to talk to the Husband now that the kid is learning to spell!
It’s really a truth that I have known for quite some time, but I was hopeful that today the unabashed giggling coming from upstairs was just the girls having innocent fun.
…..
It was the end of naptime, the Big One asked if she could get the Little One up. I said yes and told her I was going to get the mail. Our mailbox is across the street. It takes about two minutes to get the mail and get home.
…..
As soon as I came back in the house, I should have put the mail down and marched upstairs to see what all the giggling was about. Instead I was dumb and sat down on the couch.
…..
As I sat on the couch listening to the giggling (actually enjoying the giggling, it’s fun to hear them have so much fun together), I started to get a very bad feeling.
…..
Last week when they were giggling like this, they were coloring on an antique table and walls upstairs. I knew that there were no pens, so I was a bit concerned, but not overly concerned.
…..
Then I heard the following:
…..
The Big One: Mommy, I am really sorry. I got all wet. My clothes are wet. My hair is wet. I’m really , really sorry Mommy. I didn’t mean to get wet.
…..
The Little One: My panties are all wet (to the Little One, “panties” are pants, not underwear, she is still in diapers!)
…..
The Big One: I’m really sorry Mommy. I am all wet.
…..
By now I was upstairs and standing in their bathroom doorway. Both sinks are filled to the brim, the counter is dripping wet and there is a good inch of water all over the bathroom floors.
…..
I couldn’t even say anything. Of course, they thought it was hysterical. They were practically rolling on the floor laughing, while I just stood there not knowing where to begin.
…..
I needed to get them out of the bathroom, but was afraid if they moved they would slip and fall on the tile. I certainly didn’t want to pick them up to get them out of the bathroom because I didn’t want to get all wet.
…..
So I grabbed a stack of towel, threw them all over the floor and told them to get out. They laughed all the way back to their rooms, while I unstopped the sinks. Mopped up the floor and contemplated putting them in time-out or just letting it go.
…..
I am tired, I don’t’ feel well, so we just let it go. I told them to change clothes and come downstairs. Then once they got downstairs I explained that the next time the Big One felt the need to “clean” one of her toys it might be best to ask for some help.
So tonight I was getting the girls ready for bed. We did our normal routine and were wrapping things up. The way it works is this ~ we read a book, then we rock a little, sing a little and pray. After that the Little One gets tucked in bed and then the Big One gets tucked in bed.
…
As I was trying to get the Little One tucked in, she suddenly says, “I’m sick! I need to puke in the toywet!” And then ran with her padded little feet into the bathroom.
…
Before I can even react, the Big One races past me in the hallway exclaiming, “I want to see! I want to watch {Little One} puke!”
…
Seriously? Is it really that much fun to watch someone puke when you are four? Please someone reassure me that it is completely normal little kid behavior to want to watch your sister (or anyone ) puke.
…
…
And thankfully for the record, there was no puke. It’s been about 90 minutes since this proclamation was made. Unfortunately, I can pretty much guarantee that I will NOT sleep tonight because I am still anticipating the puke.
The Little One mimics just about everything that the Big One does. So it’s really no surprise that the Little One attempted to “tattle” on the FixItMommy today.
….
It’s actually quite funny.
….
I was putting away some of our Christmas decorations. We are leaving the tree up until the Husband comes home, but some of the other stuff needed to be put away.
….
I was cleaning up the Little People Nativity Set and the Little People Little Drummer Boy Set, much to the Little One’s chagrin. Then I did the unthinkable, I packed up this musical penguin that she has claimed as her own. When you squeeze its hand, the thing sings, “Jingle Bells” and rocks on its sleigh bottom.
….
The Little One freaked out screaming and crying because it was HER penguin and it needed to stay out. It clearly didn’t belong with the Christmas decorations.
….
I told her it was for Christmas and just like the other things we would get them out again next Christmas. She was not happy with me. Next thing I know, she picked up one of their play cell phones and said this:
….
“Hewwo, Daddy… Mommy put MY penguin away. That’s not where it bewongs!! I am not happy wight now!” And with that she slammed the phone shut and threw it on the floor.
….
It took everything I had to not fall on the floor laughing at her. Once she “told” on me, she was fine and the penguin has already been forgotten.
