Have I told You How Much I Love Potty Training?
The Big One was relatively easy in terms of potty training. She liked to get naked and carry the little potty all over the house with her. I didn’t care, as long as she was using it, it didn’t matter to me where it was.
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The Little One is a whole different story. She tells me she doesn’t want to go to preschool, so she won’t pee. She tells me she “doesn’t care” if she is wet or poopy. She tells me there are monsters in the potty. There are all kinds of excuses.
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So we have been really diligent in assuring her that she doesn’t have to go to preschool, and that there are no monsters in the potty. The thing that’s strange is she is really good about going when we are out and about. As soon as we get in any store or restaurant, she says she has to go and normally she does.
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We are on day 5 of panties. She is doing really well. She doesn’t always go on her own, but she will go when prompted. Today we were dropping the Big One off at preschool and I was chatting with one of the teachers. The Little One was standing in front of me when suddenly she starts whining. I admit I really think I was tuning her out because of the whiney tone in her voice.
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Bad idea. Finally it dawned on me that she was wearing panties and I hadn’t reminded her to go before we left the house. Then I heard what she was saying, “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy… I peeing!! I peeing!!” While I am grateful that she was conscious of what was happening, I wish that she had, instead of whining about it, walked (or ran) to the bathroom which was about 5 feet away from where we were standing.
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I grabbed some paper towels and began sopping up the puddle. Of course the kids in the classroom were playing with balloons, so while sopping up the pee and reassuring the Little One that things were okay, I am getting pelted with balloons and trying to keep said balloons out of the pee puddle.
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Oh the joys.
Is That Ketchup or Blood?
Apparently the Little One needs a lesson in the differences between ketchup and blood. Today has not been a good day for the Little One and red, gooey stuff.
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The Husband is gone for Reserves weekend, so I am a bit more relaxed about eating in the living room. Normally we eat together at the table, but sometimes when he is gone I don’t cook so the kids can eat wherever. But I do typically have one steadfast rule: If the Little One wants ketchup for her chicken dinos, she must be at a table, not on the couch and not on the carpet.
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Well the girls found these little folding lap-trays that Aunt Tami bought them a couple years ago. Sorry, Tami, I hate them. The legs don’t lock in place, so if you move the tray slightly, the whole thing collapses. That is why they have been hidden in the Harry Potter closet (the closet under the stairs). For whatever reason the Big One was climbing around in there today (no I didn’t put her in there, although I have been tempted a time or two). She emerged with these damn trays. I honestly thought I threw them away last time she found them. (Note to self throw them away tonight!!).
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So anyway, the girls wanted to use the trays and sit on the living room carpet to eat. My brain was not properly functioning when I gave the Little One ketchup on her plate. No sooner had the kid sat down to eat, than she bumped the tray. One leg collapsed and her plate flipped over. Gracie Lou was on the prowl, she nabbed a chicken dino before I even knew what happened.
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The Big One started freaking out because, “{Little One} got ketchup” on her chicken. Seriously, there is a huge glob of ketchup on my carpet and she is having a cow because a speck of it landed on her chicken.
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I ignored the Big One and started to clean up the ketchup mess. All the while yelling at the Little One, the dog, my sister and anyone else I could think of. (yes, one of my finer moments).
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I bust out the OxiClean and did what I could do for the carpet. I went back into the kitchen to rinse out my rag and the Little One starts whimpering about what is all over her dress. I walked back out to the living room and see that her hands are both covered in blood, as is one arm and the side of her dress.
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Again in a fine moment of calm, I started yelling at her again to just stop moving. She was dancing around like a dog trying to catch its tail, because she thinks there is ketchup all over her dress. I told her it was not ketchup, as I had just cleaned it all up from the carpet and there was none left on her plate.
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She argued with me that it was ketchup and put a finger in her mouth. YUK! She quickly surmised that the substance on her finger was not ketchup and then started freaking out because she was “bweeding all over!”
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I still couldn’t figure out where the blood was coming from. This child falls on carpet from a standing still position and insists that she needs a Band-Aid even though there is no blood. So the fact that she is covered in blood and didn’t notice it is a bit concerning to me. I carried her into the bathroom to get her hands washed and find the source. She is now sobbing because she needs a Band-Aid and some medicine, yet she cannot tell me where the blood came from.
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Then I finally looked at her face, her nose was the source. She must have felt something on her face and used her hands to try to wipe it off, getting the blood all over herself in the process. It stopped bleeding pretty quickly, so I don’t know if it’s the dry weather or if she picked it until it bled. Either way, she did {hopefully} learn a valuable lesson in distinguishing between ketchup and blood.
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The whole time we were in the bathroom, the Big One was giving me a running commentary on the spots she was finding on the tile, “I found some blood! Or is that ketchup?” is what I kept hearing. At least she was smart enough to not taste it.
Someday We’ll Laugh About It
One of these days, the Big One will acknowledge that she in fact does not know it all.
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One of these days, the Big One will acknowledge that she in fact does not know it all.
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One of these days, the Big One will acknowledge that she in fact does not know it all.
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If I say it enough, will it become true?
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I know that it will probably not happen for at least another 20 years, but it will happen, right? I am surprised at how turning 5 has suddenly made her the all knowing person in our household. I honestly thought she wouldn’t become all knowing until she turned 10. Silly me.
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It started this morning while the girls were watching Diego. Diego was talking about some animal camouflaging itself for protection. She asked me what that word was. I told her what it meant. No, she said she knew what it meant, she forgot the word and wanted to know how to say it. Okay, so I told her, “ca-mou-flage.” At which point she got real antsy and said, no, it’s “camel-fly.” I was like no, it’s not.
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And so we went back and forth. Of course, Diego is saying it 10 times on the show, but the Big One is too busy arguing with me to hear him say it correctly. I gave in and moved on with my day.
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Then this afternoon when we got home from preschool, I kicked the Barbie Jeep in the garage as I was getting out of the mom-mobile (not intentionally). As I struggled to hold my tongue and not let loose with a lot of very inappropriate words, the Big One, matter-of-factly looks at me and says, “Maybe you shouldn’t be wearing flip flops, Momma.”
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Really? Thanks so much for that little miss bundle of wisdom.
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Maybe I should let her pick some Super Lotto numbers and see how that goes.
Another Year Older, Another Battle of Wills
The Big One turned 5 this week. Ever since her birthday she has been declaring how five-year-olds are supposed to act. Some examples include:
“I’m not going to hit anymore, 5-year-old don’t hit.”
“I’m not going to whine anymore, 5-year-olds don’t whine.”
“It’s okay, {Little One} can have it, 5-year-old can share real good.”
You get the idea. She is apparently going to be a dream child because she has reached the magical age of five.
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Well, that lasted a few days.
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Every night we have a battle over the hall light. The way our upstairs is set- up, the girls’ bedrooms are at the very end of a super long hallway. It’s very dark if the light is not on, even in the daytime. At bedtime, if we leave the hall light on, the Big One wants it off. And if we leave it off, she inevitably wants it on.
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If she would just get out of bed and turn it off or on depending on her mood there would be no problems. The problem is instead of just turning it off or on, she gets out of bed, stomps all the way down the hallway and then stands at the top of the stairs yelling that she wants the light on or off.
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Honestly, she can reach it, there is no problem with her taking care of her own problem. Instead it’s a stall tactic to avoid going to bed. The thing is she knows it makes me crazy when she stands at the top of the steps and hollers down at me. It just annoys me and it wakes up the Little One.
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So last night as I tucked her in, I asked her three times if she wanted the light off or on. All three times she said on. I turned it on and asked if it was at the right amount of light (it’s on a dimmer). She wanted it turned down some, so I obliged. And then again confirmed that it was set just right.
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After tucking her in, I asked again if the light level was acceptable. She said it was. I then told her that if she started screaming at me or freaking out that the light needed to be turned off or up or down that she would be spending all day in her room. I then asked her what would happen if she got out of bed and complained about the light. She repeated that she would be in her room all day today.
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As I left her room, I again said if I see you or hear regarding the light, you will be in your room all day tomorrow. She again confirmed that she understood what I was telling her.
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I kid you not 15 minutes after I got back downstairs, what do you think happened? The kid is screaming at the top of the stairs that she wants the light turned off. Are you kidding me? I took several deep breaths, walked up the stairs and told her to turn the light off and make herself comfortable because she was going to be in her room for a very long time. Of course, then she really started wailing and woke the Little One up, who then started screaming because she wanted the hall light back on.
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So now we are stuck at home with nowhere to go. The Big One doesn’t seem to mind that she is in her room all day. The Little One is confused as to what is going on. And I have a headache. Oh the joys.
Is This Bad?
The Big One is finally starting to venture out and eat more things. I think we are finally getting away from the yogurt and chicken dino diet. One of the things she has decided she likes is grilled cheese sandwiches.
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Yesterday for lunch that’s what she asked for. Not wanting to squash the grilled cheese enthusiasm, I said okay and proceeded to get one cooking.
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Well, I got distracted and burned the heck out of one side. Truth be told, I was checking my e-mail when I suddenly smelled the unmistakable burned grilled cheese. (don’t pretend like you’ve never burned one!)
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So I jump up, flip the sandwich and then being the ultimate lazy person I am, I peeled off the burnt piece of bread, grabbed another slice of cheese and quickly buttered another piece of bread to put on top.
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By the time I was done with that, the other side was nicely grilled. So it worked out well. It did have a bit of a burnt bread smell, but the Big One still ate it.
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So what do you think? Would you have tossed the whole thing and started over or done what I did?
Mother’s Day Part II – Sweetness
So after the treadmill incident, you have to figure that Mother’s Day can only go up from there, right? Well, I am happy to report that it did. The Big One will be 5 next week. So this is the first year that she has really “gotten” what Mother’s Day is about.
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In addition to a few beautiful drawings, projects, paintings and a snow globe from preschool, the Big One had a list in mind for the Husband on what she wanted to do for me. It was awesome!!
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She took him outside on Saturday morning to tell him what she needed him to help her do for me. First thing on her list was bake me a cake. So Saturday afternoon (after the treadmill incident) I was sent to my room to take a bubble bath so they could work their magic in the kitchen. They made me a delicious chocolate cake.
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The Big One also apparently instructed the Husband that they needed to get me flowers. As I have said before, the Husband is not one to buy flowers. He thinks they are a waste of money because they will “just die in a couple days.”
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He didn’t fulfill this request on Saturday, so on Sunday the Husband and the Big One went out to run an errand. Apparently the Big One reminded him again about the flowers. He says they were $10 at WalMart and he wasn’t going to buy them. So as they got closer to home, they saw some folks set-up on the street corner selling flowers and gift baskets.
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Instead of spending $10 on WalMart flowers, he ended up spending $20 on a basket with a stuffed dog, small clutch with a huge sparkly cross on it and a silk sunflower. Not satisfied with the silk sunflower in the basket, he also had to buy me a $3 red rose. It was classic!
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The Big One rocks!
{In his defense we also went to Chili’s for lunch on Saturday. I love Chili’s!!}
In case you can't see it well enough in the basket, here it is in its sparkly glory!
Mother’s Day Part I – Flying Treadmill Parts
Yep, you read that one right, this is a two-parter! The Husband is not one to go big on Mother’s Day or birthdays or really any holidays. He thinks cards and flowers are a waste of money. I accepted that and don’t usually get to upset by it.
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So yesterday, Mother’s Day Eve, he suggests we all go to the Commissary. I told him no that I wanted a treadmill for Mother’s Day and we should go to Sears to look at them. Remember I joined the YMCA, we’ve been two times and both times the kids got sick after being in the play area. So I have been reluctant to go back and have instead thrown away $100 paying for the membership for two months. I decided that I would rather cancel it and buy a treadmill.
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Of course the Husband thinks it will collect dust, but I promised him I would use it. I wanted to buy the cheaper $350 version. I don’t see myself running on it, just walking. But of course the Husband wants the option of running on it in case he can’t make it to the gym some day.
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As we wandered around Sears listening to the sales guy tell us all about them, we noticed a really nice looking treadmill. The tag says “original price $2499.00, clearance price $699.” So we start asking about it. It’s a really nice treadmill that’s been discontinued. The new ones are down to $1200, but the floor model is $699. So The Husband tests it out, running at 5 mph at a 12% incline (show-off, I know!) He really likes the way it feels. So I tried it out (at 0% incline and 3 mph), I agree it’s nice.
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We agree to buy it. Of course it’s the floor model so it is assembled. The thing is about 5 feet tall when the belt is folded up, so there was no way it would fit in the Mom-mobile. We call a friend to see if we can borrow their truck. They say sure and tell us they would meet us at Sears. A few minutes later, we get a call saying the truck won’t start. So we come home, thinking we are toast on getting the thing home.
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By the time we got home, the truck was running again and we were set. The Husband and neighbor head back down to the mall to pick it up. I should have known it was doomed when the truck wouldn’t start.
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All is seemingly well. They get home and the Husband pokes his head in the house and asks me to come out to the garage, where the treadmill will live.
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I walked out and triumphantly announced, “Happy Mother’s Day to me!” The neighbor hangs his head and sheepishly says, “I am really, really, sorry.” Confused I was like what, then I looked at the treadmill that was still in the
truck.
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It was topless, the entire top console with all the buttons, speakers, display, and fan is not there. I see some wires sticking up and that’s about it. Then the Husband starts putting pieces on the garage floor.
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What could I do? I started laughing. Our poor neighbor had a look of shock and relief on his face. I asked is everyone was alright and they assured me that yes everyone was okay There were no accidents and no husbands splattered on the freeway. So all I could do was laugh as our neighbor relived the top console of my brand new treadmill flying off of the truck and into the traffic lane on the freeway.
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He saw the whole unit shift and slowed down to about 50 mph he said. Then the next thing he knew he saw the top go airborne! He hit the breaks and told the Husband, “Ummm <Husband> I think we have a problem.”
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The husband who has been standing by silently while the neighbor tells me what happened, finally talks to re-tell his horror of watching a few cars swerve to avoid the pieces as he then saw an 18-wheeler barreling down the freeway at close to 70mph. By some miracle of God the truck was able to swerve into the middle traffic lane and thus avoid splattering the console all over the freeway. So the Husband was able to dodge cars and collect all of the pieces. (we think!)
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After the shock wore off, I called Sears to request a repair visit. They transferred me to the manufacturer. I went through the registration process with the manufacturer and then the representative asked me what the problem was. The conversation went like this:
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FixItMommy: Well the whole top console fell off.
Customer Service: It just fell off.
FixItMommy: Yes, it fell off… *dramatic pause* on the freeway.
Customer Service: It fell off on the freeway *laughter*
FixItMommy: Yep. On the freeway
Customer Service: *laughter* Okay, so ….it arrived broken?
FixItMommy: Ummmm…Yes, Ma’am it arrived at my house broken.
Customer Service: Okay, so you need a new console. I am ordering that part for you now.
FixItMommy: Really?
Customer Service: WOW! *laughter* That’s an expensive part. It’s ordered and should arrive at your house in a few days. Is there anything else I can do for you? {Just an aside, I looked it up the part is $823, remember we paid $700 for the thing!}
FixItMommy: Ummmmmmm, no thank you. Happy Mother’s Day to you!
Customer Service: Thank you very much. Happy Mother’s Day to you to.
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We’ll see when the part arrives if I can live up to my name! I will do my best to fix it, of course the Husband will probably already be in Hawaii (again!) by the time the part gets here, so I will be on my own!
Here’s a Good (or Sad) First for the Little One
The Little One has officially received her first ever pair of brand new shoes. How sad is that? The poor kid is THREE-years-old and just now is getting new shoes.
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Now don’t be calling in the authorities on me, she hasn’t been barefoot for the last 36 months. She’s been perfectly content to wear her sister’s hand-me-downs. Although truth be told, most of her favorite shoes have come from her fab-friend Kendra, my fab-friend Karen’s cutie-pie.
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So I guess either Kendra’s feet have stopped growing or the Little One’s feet have started growing and we’ve finally caught up. Hee hee, just kidding Karen. You don’t have to give us shoes for the rest of the Little One’s childhood. Although we both know your mom has great taste in kid’s shoes and doesn’t have nearly enough grand-daughters to spoil.
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I suppose after all this fanfare, I should have at least taken a picture to prove the new shoes, huh? I’ll get right on that one. I will confess though that the real reason the Little One has new shoes is that the Big One needed new tennis shoes and Payless is having a Buy One, Get One ½ sale. So we got the Big One’s tennis shoes and then the Little One got some consolation shoes on sale. Man, this kid is going to have a complex when she gets older!
Sleepover Ready? Not Quite Yet!
I am heartbroken this morning. The Big One didn’t make it all night at her first sleepover. I know when she wakes up she will be very sad, again. But alas it wasn’t meant to be, yet.
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You see the Big One’s best buddy at preschool, Abby, has three older sisters. So Abby is a pro at hosting and observing sleepovers. The Big One is the oldest, so the concept is a little foreign to her. She has slept at Grammy and Papa’s before, but other that those few times, she has slept at home in her own bed.
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So several months ago when the Big One and Abby started planning this sleepover, I was hesitant. She is only 4. It seems young to me to have a sleepover. After several months of constant badgering Abby’s mom and the FixItMommy gave in. I assured Abby’s mom that she could call me any time. It was not a big deal. If she needed me to come get the Big One, I completely understood. The plan was the Big One would spend the night and then go to church with Abby’s family. The Little One and I would be at church too.
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When I left the Big One at around dinnertime, it took everything she had to pull herself away from whatever they were playing with to even say goodbye to me. I took that as a positive sign, but was still a bit anxious. I know that the Little One and I lingered at the door chatting longer than necessary because I was anxious to leave her. The Big One meanwhile didn’t seem to care at all that I was gone.
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So we came home, had dinner and did our normal bedtime routine. After I got the Little One is bed, the Husband called (it’s Reserves weekend). His first question was whether or not I had heard from Abby’s mom. It was close to 9 p.m. and I hadn’t so we took that as a positive sign.
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I went to bed around 10 p.m. All was seemingly well. Then I woke up a little after 2 a.m. I don’t know why, but I couldn’t get back to sleep. So I lied there tossing and turning until 3:39 a.m. when my cell phone rang. As soon as I saw the local number come up, I knew the sleepover was over.
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In very calm, quiet voice, Abby’s mom said that she was going to bring the Big One home. They live just around the corner and like I said the Husband was gone, so I couldn’t volunteer to go get her because I didn’t want to leave the Little One alone.
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I walked downstairs, turned a light on and watched out the peep hole for the car to arrive. Once they pulled into the driveway, I met them outside. Abby’s mom handed the Big One to me as she said, “you want your momma?” to the Big One. I couldn’t see the Big One’s face, just a mop of hair clutching her teddy bear and pillow as she reached out for me.
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It was chilly outside so we walked in and Abby’s mom told me that the Big One was perfectly fine. Then she woke up at about 2 a.m. She got her settled back into bed for a little bit. Then the Big One woke up again and she couldn’t get her settled. As she struggled to calm the Big One down, she asked her if she wanted to go home. At that point, the Big One started sobbing and nodding her head yes, that she did in fact just want to go home.
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It was the saddest thing ever. On the one hand, it’s nice to have that reassurance that the FixItMommy is her first choice. But it’s heartbreaking to know how excited she was about her first sleepover.
We’ll try it again in 10 years or so!
A Big One
And no I don’t mean, my Big One. Our Easter was pretty routine except for the 7.2 magnitude earthquake that had us rocking and rolling for what seemed like forever.
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We were at my aunt and uncle’s house just chilling after a fabulous Easter feast when the windows started rattling and the ground started rolling. There were a few of us in the living room, the Husband, my sister, brother-in-law, cousin’s wife, and Eric, my niece’s boyfriend. {HEY! Look, Eric, you made it in!!}
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Being the Southern California experts that we all are, it took us at least 10 seconds before we all at the same time thought, “EARTHQUAKE!” The funny thing is once we realized that it was an earthquake, we were all a little slow to move. Normally by the time anyone realizes there is an earthquake, the shaking is done.
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But this one was different, it kept on rolling. About 25 seconds into it, I finally realized that I should probably go upstairs and check on the kids. By the time I got to the top of the stairs, my cousin who had been taking a little nap was also running for my girls (thanks, Joe!). And my niece who had taken cover in a door jam, realized too that maybe it would be smarter to get the kids and then all get downstairs.
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So the three of us converged on the bedroom where the girls were playing. They noticed something was happening, but had no idea what it was. The Big One said she just heard a “big wind.” The Little One just giggled and said, “WHOA!” as I grabbed her and headed downstairs. Becca, my niece, had grabbed the Big One.
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By the time we got the kids the shaking had stopped, although the chandelier in the living room was still swaying.
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We knew there would be aftershocks, I just prayed that they didn’t start until we got back downstairs!
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All in all, everything was fine. We were a little more than 100 miles from the epicenter. So there was no damage to where we were. But it made for a fun Easter memory.
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In retrospect, it is funny to note reactions. Here is what I remember and what others told me happened:
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My sister, headed for the door wanting to get outside of the house.
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I went upstairs for the kids, thinking we’d be better off downstairs. Probably not the case if the house really collapsed.
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The Husband, my brother-in-law and cousin’s wife just stayed put.
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Eric, dove under the table we had eaten on.
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My niece braced herself in a doorway.
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I think the others, who were in the family room just stayed put. I don’t know that any of them even moved.
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As soon as the shaking stopped, those of us in the living room all raced into the family room to turn the news on. Being the only smart one in the room, I Googled it. Hee hee, just kidding. But I did find the info online a lot faster than CNN started reporting on it
fixitmommy.com 