A Two-Month Streak Gone in a … Splash
Oh man, it had been a good two months since I have had to clean up pee on the carpet. And in one split second the streak is gone. Part of me wishes I could blame this on the poor unsuspecting dog. But alas Gracie Lou has been a very good dog of late.
I suppose I am partly responsible for the Little One’s pee trail. I got her out of the tub, wrapped the towel around her and let her loose. The same routine we follow every night. Usually she drops the towel once she gets in the hall way and then streaks to her room to get her jammies and diaper on.
It’s very rare that we have a pee problem after tubby time. I assume she probably pees in the tub most nights, gross I know but she’s not even two yet so I’m sure it happens. {although I confess she did pee on the Big One’s bed a couple weeks ago and I merely took that top blanket to the wash and put the Big One to bed minus one blanket.}
So anyway she took off like a bullet out of the bathroom, I was a few steps behind her. Okay I was far enough behind for her to drop the towel in her room and then head back towards the bathroom. The Big One was still in the tub, that’s how quick it all happened.
I stopped in the bathroom doorway, just as the Little One stopped in the middle of the (carpeted) hallway. I saw her one leg turn outwards just a little as she dropped her head down to look and see what was happening (you moms know exactly what I am talking about). She is definitely not used to pee running down her leg, so she was intrigued. By the time I figured out what was happening, there was a puddle on the carpet.
And of course in my famous-calm manner, I grabbed her and got her into the bathroom and onto the potty as quickly as possible. I’m not sure why I follow this same instinct all it really does is create a long trail of pee, versus the puddle that she was creating all on her own.
Add to this the fact that she wasn’t completely dry when she bolted out of the bathroom and I have a serious problem. I’m not sure how much of the dampness on the carpet is actual pee and how much is just wet footprints from the bath water.
I mopped up all the wetness I could find with a towel and I will bust out the Resolve tomorrow just to make sure.
Why-oh-why can I not let her just stand there and finish peeing? At least then I would know exactly where all the pee landed.
For those of you who have been paying attention, there are now two things on my birthday wish list… this waffle maker and a steam cleaner for the carpet. I think it will make my life easier. So if you’ve got a steam cleaner that you love (or one you hate) tell me about it in a comment to help me decide which one to ask for.
{And yes, if you follow that one link up there… the Big One’s name is revealed *GASP* I’m too tired to go change it. And if you read that one link, probably one of my favorites, you will see that it truly is a great miracle that the Big One is potty trained!}
When Will I Learn?
I have these crazy visions of actually sitting down and eating breakfast or lunch with my kids. I know it’s crazy, yet somehow I still wish I could make it happen.
I really thought today was the day. I had some leftover scrambled eggs and hash browns in the fridge. My plan was to re-heat them, throw them in a tortilla and eat with the girls. I got them each their yogurt and juice. They were settled and eating happily while I attempted to warm up my leftovers.
Honestly I figured 45 seconds to heat the eggs and hash browns, then 15 second to warm the tortilla. So I needed 60 seconds for the preparation before I could sit down and actually eat with my girls.
Do you think I got it done? Nope. At about the 42 second mark in the reheating process, the Little One finished her yogurt and wanted more. So I obliged and got her more yogurt. The eggs were still semi-warm so I went ahead with warming the tortilla. As soon as the microwave went off, the Big One decided she wanted more yogurt too.
So by the time I got her yogurt, my eggs were of course cold. So I removed the tortilla from the microwave, tossed the eggs on it and then put it all back in the microwave for 30 seconds.
There were no requests in the entire 30 seconds. Shocking, I know. So I folded up my tortilla into a breakfast burrito, grabbed my coffee which had already been reheated once, and sat down at the table with them.
The second my butt hit the chair, the Little One needed a napkin and the Big One suddenly had a cut on her finger that was causing excruciating pain. So after getting a napkin for the Little One, some Neosporin and Band-Aid for the Big One, my burrito was cold, and both kids declared they were done with breakfast and wanted to get down and play.
I gave up. I think I will stick with my original plan~ feed the girls, and then turn Dora on for them so I can eat in peace.
When to Burn the Bath Toys
A few months ago we started “mommy time” in the evenings. After dinner is done, the Husband is in charge of getting the girls in the tub and in bed. He does the whole routine from bath to jammies, to reading, to singing, to praying, to stalling, to finally sleeping.
It’s about 60 minutes that I get all to myself. Sometimes I go to the store, sometimes I screw around on Facebook or Babycenter and sometimes I actually take the dog for a walk.
One thing that I apparently should have been doing is cleaning up the bath tub once they were out of it. The Husband, bless his heart does a wonderful job of getting the girls clean and getting them in bed. One thing he doesn’t do so well is cleaning up the bath toys. He usually just leaves them all in the tub full of water, figuring they will use them again the next day. (yes, I know how his mind works. It’s just like the question of why make the bed when you are just going to get back in it?)
When I am in charge of bath time (which has been way too often recently) we clean up the toys at the end of each bath. That means the foam letters all get stuck back on the tub wall, the washcloths get wrung out and hung to dry and the squeezie toys all get squeezed out and put in the hanging mesh back to dry.
Now I realize that in time, all of the squeezie toys will get gross and need to be soaked in a bleach solution or tossed in the trash. But when you at least squeeze the water out each night, they will last a bit longer.
So tonight, the Husband is TDY again so I was in charge of the nighttime routine. The Little One picked up a rubber duck and squeezed it. A few flakes of black mold came out, so I calmly asked her if I could have it and she obliged. As y’all know the Big One is a drama queen and I was afraid that if I freaked out about the mold, she too would freak out.
I squeezed the rest of the duck out in the toilet and then thought I had better get them all. Oh my gosh! It was completely disgusting. Just a side note, the Husband was gone for three weeks, so I did tubby time. In my defense we didn’t play with the squeezie toys at all while he was gone. So these things have been harboring little mold pools for at least a month.
As I systematically grabbed each toy and squeezed it into the toilet, the Big One became more and more interested in the mold. Thankfully she didn’t freak out, she just wanted to know what was in them. I explained a little about the mold and how it grows in there. She was genuinely interested until she noticed that I was struggling with one particular toy. I could feel there was still water in there but it wasn’t coming out. Then the Big One says, “What’s that Mommy?” pointing at the toy in question.
I just about died when I looked at the toy. It was an Ernie (from Sesame Street) toy where he is holding his ruby ducky. The water is supposed to come out of the ducky’s mouth. Instead there was this thick black sludge coming out. It honestly looked like a worm hanging there. I admit, I flinched just a little when I saw it. And that’s when I decided that some toys are not worth cleaning.
So my PSA to you is this… clean you squeezie toys every now and again. I usually use a bleach and water solution to soak them and then fill them up and squeeze them out a few times. Then repeat with just clean water. And if I am feeling really oogied out by the germs, I will throw them in the dishwasher for good measure.
Oh the Joys of Poop
I knew it would come, it happened with the Big One too. So I knew it was just a matter of time. The Little One has becomes obsessed with seeing the pee and the poop in her diaper.
I suppose I should be happy about it. I think it’s a sign that the concept of peeing and pooping is becoming more real to her. When I change her diaper, she insists now I seeing the poopies or pee-pee. So I usually oblige and show her the dirty diaper.
Yesterday she told me, “no poopie,” when I got her up. But I of course could smell different. So I showed her the poop. I think she was confused on which is which. She tells me there is no poop when there is and vice versa with pee. So I think she had them backwards. In order to set her straight, I show her the diaper.
I think she is getting the concept a little better now. She did pee once on the potty last week. I think she really wants to go to pre-school with her sister. I keep reinforcing that she has to go on the potty in order to go to school. {She also has to turn two!}
So we have now entered the phase of sitting on the potty forever. And just like the Big One, she wants the FixItMommy to “SIT DOWN” in there with her. Yes she yells it at me. I almost forgot all the fun of having a potty somewhere in my house with a naked child sitting on it. Good thing for all of us, I of course shared those moments with you.
Note to self: Don’t give the Little One the dirty diaper with the premise of her putting it in the trash. I did this yesterday afternoon. The Husband came home at the same time so I wasn’t really paying attention to what the Little One did with the diaper. I found it a few hours later in the toilet in our bathroom. Man those suckers can hold some water. I was shocked with the weight of it when I pulled it out of the toilet. I guess it’s just another sign that she really is aware of the potty process.
Who’s On First?
Yesterday I honestly thought I was in a very bad version of the popular “Who’s on First” skit made famous by Abbott and Costello. The Big One is still struggling with the concept of time. So this is how our day went:
The Big One: Mommy after my first sleep, it will still be tomorrow, right?
FixItMommy: What do you mean after your first sleep?
The Big One: Mommy, after my first sleep it will still be tomorrow.
FixItMommy: Well, today is Sunday. After your nap, it will still be Sunday.
The Big One: But after my first sleep it will be tomorrow.
FixItMommy: Baby, after your nap it will still be Sunday. After you go night-night, it will be Monday when you wake up.
The Big One: When will it be tomorrow?
FixItMommy: Tomorrow is Monday. After you go night-night and wake up it will be tomorrow.
The Big One: So after my first sleep it will be tomorrow?
FixItMommy: Let’s try this again. After you take a nap it will still be today, Sunday. After we have dinner, tubby time and go night-night and then wake-up it will be tomorrow, Monday.
The Big One: What’s Monday?
FixItMommy: Tomorrow is Monday. Remember there are seven days in a week. Monday is the first day of Daddy’s work week.
The Big One: When will Daddy be home for seven days in a week?
FixItMommy: Daddy works for five days and then is home for two days on the weekends.
The Big One: But when will Daddy be home for seven days in a row? Tomorrow will Daddy be home for seven days?
And so it went. . .
We Did It!!
Thank you all so much for the encouragement. We survived the first day of preschool!
The Big One had a great time. Yes, I knew she would, it was just me getting over the fear of it all. There were no accidents, no fighting that I am aware of and well, yes she is a bossy one!
Actually according to her teacher, she is quite the little “helper.” Translation she was the tattle-tale making sure that Ms Jessica knew who was running when they weren’t supposed to be, who was going past the “stop line” outside and who was not listening.
I suppose it’s better that she listened to and understood all the rules rather than being the kid who didn’t listen to the rules. Hopefully in time the tattling will slow down! We’ll be working on that at home.
There were no tears from the Big One. The Little One on the other hand had a tough time leaving her sister.
It was really quite sad. I had to pick up the Little One and carry her outside. Once outside, she asked to be put down so she could walk. I set her down and she ran back to the door and just stood there crying, “Sissy! Sissy! Sissy!” It truly was the saddest thing I’ve seen in a very long time.
I did pretty well. I think I would have been perfectly fine if the Little One hadn’t been so sad. I teared up a bit, but quickly gained my composure so that I could calm the Little One down.
When we went back to get the Big One, the kids were sitting in a circle reading a story. The Little One ran over and, threw her arms around her sister and exclaimed, “Found her!!” It was very cute. A bit disruptive to the story, but very cute nonetheless.
As Dora would say, “We did it!! Lo Hicimos!!”
Well, Tomorrow Is The Day…
I am excited. The Big One is excited. I am a little sad, though too.
The Big One is starting preschool tomorrow. Yes it’s a weird time to start preschool, but hey we’ll always remember St. Patrick’s Day. We even went out over the weekend to buy a special green outfit for the occasion.
It’s a brand-new preschool. They had hoped to open in January, but had some licensing issues so we start in March. No big deal.
It’s close to home, which is a huge bonus when you live where we live. In case you’ve missed my lamenting, it’s 13 miles to the closest Starbucks. And about 20 miles to the “good” Target. I know y’all in San Diego cannot even fathom that kind of commute for a Grande White Mocha, but for me it has sadly become a reality.
Here’s the thing, the Husband and I are “those” parents. We’ve never gotten a baby sitter. Yes, you read that correctly. The girls have been left with relatives, but never with a “stranger.” Their grandparents, aunts and cousins have watched them, but they have never been left with anyone who wasn’t blood-related.
So last week when the Big One went to Sunday School alone, you see now how huge that was. Granted her Sunday School teacher is fabulous and wonderful and might as well be family we’ve known her for so long.
But tomorrow, I will be handing the Big One off to a “stranger.” Yes, we’ve met with the director several times. I went to see the facility. Then I went back with the Husband. Then when Grammy and Papa were in town we went back yet again. Frankly, I am a bit surprised she let us register the Big One.
I am certain that the teachers are wonderful and that the Big One will thrive and love it, but it’s still a bit scary to me to just hand her over. Yes, it’s only three hours, but a lot can happen in three hours.
In addition to my fears of her not being well cared for and loved, I think part of it is fear that I have not done a good job as her mom getting her ready for this day. Will she be polite? Will she fight with other kids? Will she be bossy? Will she make it to the potty on time?
UGH! Who knew that preschool could be so stressful? I imagine that the Big One will be polite, she will probably argue with other kids about a toy, she will probably be a bit bossy to someone, and she may or may not have an accident.
And I know in my brain that it’s okay if all of the above happens. It’s my heart that needs some convincing. I just want her to fit in. I want her to make new friends. I want her to learn new things. I want her to have fun adventures.
Yes, if you’ve made it this far. I know I am a freak. I know it’s preschool. I know it’s just three hours. I know it’s not like I am sending her off to boot camp. I know it all. But that doesn’t stop me from being a bit neurotic about it!
Bottom line…. The Big One is excited. I am betting that I cry before she does.
She had a 50/50 Shot
When I was pregnant with the Big One, the Husband and I talked a lot about what she would look like. Of course we each picked out physical traits that we hoped she would and would not have. Don’t laugh, you know you all did it too.
There is no doubt the Big One is my child. She pretty much looks like I did when I was a wee one. She is pasty white, stringy dirty blond hair and bright blue eyes. And tonight I noticed something else that she apparently is going to inherit from me.
She’s had one or two cute little freckles on her chest. Tonight in the bath tub, I noticed one little freckle on her cheek. Oh how I pray that it stops at just that one. You see I have a lot of freckles. The ones on my face have faded in my old age, but when I was a kid, I was that typical pale, freckle-faced cute kid. Well, as adults we all think it’s cute, but being that kid was tough.
The FixItMommy is a big girl. I can honestly say though, that I have never felt any discrimination because of my fat-ness. However as a kid, I remember being teased mercilessly for all of my zillion freckles.
I vividly remember being in first grade and making a classmate of mine cry. You see we were paired up and had to fill out little surveys about out partner. Most of the questions on the survey were pretty benign, you know: what color is your partner’s hair, eyes, shirt, etc. Well then there was the question of how many freckles does your partner have. The poor kid cried because he couldn’t count that high.
And now I am paranoid that I have passed the freckle curse on to the Big One.
Of course, this is all in jest. My mom and dad always reassured me they were “angel kisses” and how lucky I was to have them. Yada, yada, yada. I really never had a huge complex with the freckle-factor. It was just who I was and still am.
I hope that no matter how many freckles she has, she remembers that each and every one is truly an angel kiss. And I hope that I can teach her early on how important sunscreen is when you have the pasty white skin!
Full of Firsts At This House
I have two firsts to share today. One is definitely reason to celebrate, one is reason to dread shopping with my children.
Which should we do first? Hmmmmm. Let’s do the dread so we can end on a high note.
We went to Kohl’s on Saturday with Grandma. Now normally I try to leave the girls with the Husband when I go to Kohl’s, but if it’s not possible I put the Little One in the stroller and the Big One just walks around with me. Since Grandma was with us, Grandma told the Big One she could ride in a cart with Grandma pushing. After a while the Big One decided it wasn’t very fun being contained, so she whined until Grandma got her out. Then she decided she wanted to push the cart, so again Grandma let her.
That’s when it happened. The Big One was behind me pushing the cart. She wasn’t paying attention (she is 3 after all), when I stopped walking… she didn’t. She rammed that cart right into the back of my heel. It took my tennis shoe off, she hit me so hard. Now I remember being a kid and doing that to Grandma and I remember the “death stare” that I would get from my own mother. I am fairly certain somewhere between the tears that were welling from the pain, that the Big One also got the death stare.
I know this was the first time of many more cart rammings in my future. I’m hoping that the more it happens the less it will hurt.
And now the reason to celebrate. Yesterday at church… the Big One stayed in Sunday School all by herself!! WAHOOO! Anyone who knows us in real life knows how HUGE this is. So I am going to say it again. The Big One stayed in Sunday School all by herself.
And apparently she fought back when the boys tried to steal the purple rice from her. They were gluing colored rice on a picture when the boys tried to take it from her. She apparently told them, “No, I had it first. You have to share.” That’s my bossy Big One holding her own against the three boys in her Sunday School class. WAHOO!
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