I'll Have Combo #2, Please.

Whew. Just back to inlaws' house from the beach. What I thought was going to be a water-logged event turned out to be really nice weather, a good beach, and a fun waterpark. I'll post pictures last when I get some up. You won't be surprised, of course, to know that Piglet didn't actually nap the whole time we were there and is insanely grouchy. This mood is unfortunate since today is his 3rd birthday. He's three!

I feel kind of bad not making much to do over his actual birthday, but we just had his celebration with my parents last night and we'll do one with Mr. Pigs' parents tomorrow. I am not having a birthday party for him. Aren't I mean? I thought about it and decided two grandparent celebrations and me bringing cookies to school on Tuesday is quite enough. I mean, he's three! I'm going to save a little something for later when he's older and can help me plan and get excited. Birthdays to Piglet are exclusively about the cake and the blowing of the candle right now, so he's good to go. I guess I should probably get him a present though, huh? I'll pick one out of the gift closet when I get home.

This brings us to today, our drive home from the beach. We stopped at Wendy's on the way in for a quick lunch and this story is going to be about Pigpen. He isn't featured nearly enough on this blog, as it is usually his brother doing outlandish things. But today, on Piglet's birthday, we turn the spotlight to Pigpen.

You must realize by now that this is going to involve poop and it's going to be gross. This is just how my kids roll. Pigpen has developed an inconvenient habit of pooping during meals. Perhaps he just doesn't have time for it while he's busy playing? I don't know. The technique which he utilizes is simply not in line with strength or integrity of the elastic on the Pampers Cruiser size 3 leg hole.

If you must know (since you asked) between bites, he will lean to one side, assume the poop grimace, turn very red, and release. Occasionally, there is some grunting, but it's typically just the above measures. The Great Downfall to this technique is the side lean. In the last few weeks, we have had 8-10 of these elaborate blowouts which always involve escaped poo, stained clothing, and, um....residue chunks of doo on the highchair.

This brings us back to the Wendy's of Cheraw, South Carolina. There we are, eating lunch like the fine, upstanding citizens that we are. Always Keeping the Klass, we are. Pigpen finishes up and I lift him from his highchair when it happens. Even though I see the poo coming down his leg and all over his shorts, I could not stop the momentum of his body into my lap. As though time was slowed down, I cringed and howled, "Nooooooooo!"

You must realize I'm now sitting in the middle of Wendy's with poo on my shorts. I may have also forgotten to mention that Mr. Pigs is from very near this small town and everyone knows everyone. Up toddles an adorable grandmotherly woman, coming to see Mr. Pigs' boys in all their glory. Grabbing a stack of yellow Wendy's napkins, I attempt to shift Pigpen's foul blunder from public view and get a little something between him, his essence and my thigh.

Grandma coos and sighs at the sweetness and adorable-ness that are my children. I pray that she can't tell that the little one smells like cow dung and smile politely, accepting her compliments. At last she toddles off and I stand, hissing at Mr. Pigs to helpmerightnow. The horror on his face tells me what I need to know as I ease from my chair, desperately trying to control the extent of the damage. I grab my diaper bag and head for the bathroom when my eyes take in the MAN-SIZED TURD sitting on the chair I had just vacated. Just sitting right there on the chair in the dining room of Wendy's where people eat. A turd.

Mr. Pigs takes it like a man, swallowing back his lunch as he gags and cleans the chair. Upon arrival to the bathroom, I find that the Cheraw, South Carolina Wendy's does not have a changing table. No counter, no Koala Kare pull down jobby, none of the germ-laden, festering squalor I was searching for. Blast.

In as dignified a way as possible, I eased out of the establishment, still caked in poo, mind you, and unloaded everything into the parking lot. Right then and there in front of God and everybody, I stripped my baby naked on the curb and wiped his tail right there in the parking lot. Well, his tail, legs, ensemble, hair, etc. I'd like to apologize to the patrons of Wendy's who were sitting close to the window nearest the parking lot.

Casually tossing the carnage into a nearby trashcan, I loaded my diaper-clad child into his car seat with no clothes on and moved along. I like to make an impression wherever I go.

Flush

Howdy doody! (Heh, heh....I said doody.) I come to you live from the beach. A September beach trip is nice, assuming there are no hurricanes. But, since we're talking about weather, Atlanta is about to float away! Something like ten days of rain. I was so tired of being house bound and wet and moldy that I figured a week at the beach, even if it rains, is at least different scenery. Well! Little did I know that as soon as I left, it was going to rain MORE! So much that there's apparently flooding so bad that the schools are closed.

School closing would usually annoy me, but since I was worried about Piglet missing three days of preschool, it made me feel a little better. You know, missing one less day and all. Do you care? Probably not, but what repercussions could it have if Piglet missed the third week of school and didn't properly learn the letter C?? Can you imagine? It could mess his school career up for life.

I digress. We arrived at the beach this afternoon and it was less than 2 minutes on the beach before Piglet was neck deep in a tide pool, fulling clothed, wallering about. A literal pig in mud. The walk home wasn't nearly as fun as the walk there.

Hmmmm....then we braved a restaurant. Like, the kind in public. Taking a 90% potty trained kid out in public is risky, but when Child A hasn't napped in many days and Child B who never misses a nap missed a nap, save six minutes, it's REALLY risky. Being that it's a Monday in September, we were some of the only people in the restaurant without white hair and not all of them were thrilled to see us enter the establishment.

I made a mad dash for the bathroom with Piglet in tow. I locked the door and quickly set about my business. "Hold your ears!" I commanded to prevent him from touching anything nasty. He held them for 2.5 seconds and reached for the flusher. "HOLD YOUR EARS!" I hissed nastily. He held and waited not-so-patiently for me to finish. He watched with interest as I flushed.

The door opened. "SOMEONE'S HERE!" Piglet announced. "Thanks," I smiled, pleased that I had zipped my pants before he unlocked the door. I pulled down his pants and plopped him on the toilet. "DON'T DROP ME!!!" he screamed. I shhed him and held on tight. "I'm peeeeeeeing!" he sang to whoever-it-was. "I want to flush! Let me flush!" he was elated at the whoosh and darted out to wash his hands.

Our bathroom companion was considerate enough to remain in their stall and not embarrass me until we left. Not to worry, though. As I carried Piglet through the restaurant, he waved at people like he was in a parade. "I WENT POTTY!" he grinned at the Ruby Tuesday patrons. I'm thinking they're not nearly as excited as he.

Mr. Pigs had a similar experience after the meal when I elected him the Potty Boss. I was thinking it would be easier once he was out of diapers, but WHEW! What a workout.

Reasons to switch Pediatric Dentists:

1. The clientele is shady. Piglet played with a four year old with a non-ironic mohawk, a mother with 80s mall hair (including the curl back and the curl under - you remember), and an unshaven, heavily mulleted, unclean, possibly intoxicated father with a large-breasted mermaid tattoed onto his calf, at least what showed beneath his jorts. The father bashed his own kid's teeth into the side of their climbing apparatus in an effort to play with him. At the dentist.

2. Piglet freaked out and ran from the exam room. I had to ditch Pigpen and tear through the office to catch him. Twice.

3. Piglet may or may not have bitten the hygenist. To her credit, she smiled winningly as though this was normal. This was after he spit flouride into her face. Fortunately, she was fast and it mostly went on her ear and my shirt.

4. I heard a rooster crow from the parking lot. This may not appear significant, but it really cast a dark cloud on the whole event.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzz....

You know I love to complain and all, but I have to say - and yes, I realize this is a total jinx on what I'm about to say - that I feel lucky to have good sleepers. I have so many friends in real life and on the internet whose kids have frustrating sleeping issues. Some have to have a parent in the room to fall asleep, some go to their parents' bed at night, some wake up during the night for years. I'm awfully lucky in this department.

Piglet, though he is a terrible napper, having dropped it at age 2.5, is a good night sleeper as long as he hasn't accidentally had a nap. Since I now encouragea healthy quiet time and groan if he does doze off, bedtime at 7:30 is fantastic. He has two stories and goes to sleep. He doesn't budge until about 12 hours later when he wakes up perky and often with song.

Pigpen likes to sleep so much I'm worried about him. He still takes two naps a day at almost 15 months AND sleeps his 12 hours at night. The kid likes his sleep. Now, Pigpen likes a nice song before bed - Wheels on the Bus, the slow easy remix, or Twinkle Twinkle Little Star are the faves - and a kiss on the head and he's off to dreamland.

You realize, of course, that by stating these truths on the internet, both children will inevitably have some sleep meltdown. In fact, as I type this, wee Pigpen is rolling around in his crib as though he heard me typing.

Anyway, I just thought I'd say something nice. I'm trying to put some good karma out there since I am taking both boys to the dentist tomorrow. Alone. Yikes.

Rainman.

Another conversation with Piglet, brought to you by I for Insanity:

Me: What did you do at school today?
P: My teacher gave me this! [waves Tootsie Roll enthusiastically]
Me: Uh huh....what did you do today?
P: [unwrapping candy] Played.
Me: With?
P: Toys. I got a Tootsie Roll! Need to throw away wrapper.
Me: Hold it until you get home. What else did you do?
P: Played with toys.
Me: I know that. What ELSE?
P: Ummmmm.....I got a Tootsie Roll?
Me: In four hours, you played with toys and got candy? That's it? Seriously?
P: I went potty. So Miss Donna gave me a Tootsie Roll. And I get a cookie.
Me: Did you sing? Make a craft? Learn a letter? [wave art paper around at him]
P: I made that! D is for apple!
Me: You mean A? This is the letter A.
P: Yeah. [chew, chew] I like Tootsie Rolls! I need to throw the wrapper in the trash.
Me: What color are these apples?
P: Blue. Hey! Can I put this in the trash can?
Me: Apples are red. Like fire trucks.
P: No, they're bluuuuuuuuuuue! [grins] P-I-G-L-E-T spells Piglet!
Me: You know how to spell your name, but you don't know apples are red?
P: I like Tootsie Rolls. Can I have my cookie? My underwear is dry.
Me: What else did you do at school today?
P: Played.
Me: Did you go on the playground?
P: Yeah. I did the little slide, but not the big slide. Did you see my Tootsie Roll?
Me: Did your teacher read you a story? Did you have music?
P: Pigpen, I have to put this in the trash when we get home.
Me: Hellooooo???
P: What? I played with boys and girls. At school.
Me: Sigh.

It's like he's Rainman. He gets distracted by the most menial thing and can't let it go. To find out what he did at school each day, I have to call his friend down the street. She will sing for me the songs that they learned, complete with gestures, and tell me about the books they read and the lessons they learned. If I believed him, I would think that his teachers just let him play with toys for four hours.

Oh, and on another note, have I mentioned that Gus is INSANE? That his dinnertime has somehow moved from 6pm all the way back to about 2:30? That during naptime, he suddenly starts to lose his mind and bark and twirl and scratch on the door in such a way that I have to feed him just to shut him up so that we can have naptime in peace? I think he's bashed his head into the doggie door one too many times.

This is also a problem. Pigpen has learned that he fits through the dog door and as weenie as he is, he probably will for some time. So I often have to close the dog door to keep Pigpen safe, as he is unable to navigate steps yet. Gus will nonchalantly walk with his face directly into the doggie door at least twice a day and be truly shocked to find it closed. Why one wouldn't gingerly nose it first to check after running into it the first time, I couldn't tell you. Gus has always been a mystery.

Sounds like naptime's over and Gus is ready to eat. Gotta go survive the next four hours until bedtime. I'm a single mom tonight, as Clemson is playing in Altanta. Good times.

Cous Cous

First day of preschool today! Piglet had a pretty good day. Wet his pants once, but that's not too bad for a new place. He was very excited about his classroom having a "Piglet sized potty and sink that really work!" It's the small things, right? Also, he told me all about this new TV show they let them watch at the end of the day while they waited for pick up called "Cous Cous". He loves to eat cous cous, and say the word, but I was relatively sure that there was not children's programming with that name. It took me a while to figure out that he had watched Blue's Clues. Tee hee. He's a funny lad, that Piglet.

Pigpen wasn't sure quite what to do with himself without Piglet around. I hope he liked the extra attention. It's awfully quiet around the house without Piglet. I'm just excited to have time to do things I should have been doing all along. Today I went to Kroger with only Pigpen....a chore that went much faster without having to pull Piglet off of Pigpen every minute or two. I took a shower alone (!!), did two loads of laundry, ironed seven shirts, ran and emptied the dishwasher, dusted the house, and swept the floors. I'm a domestic machine, I tell you! Tomorrow: bathrooms! Watch out, the excitement might jump off this screen and bite you.

That's about all the news I can rustle up tonight. Perhaps in a day or two when I get caught up on housecleaning, I'll having something deep and meaningful to write about.

Okay, that was a joke. But maybe I'll have a good poop story for you.

Guess what tomorrow is?

Wow, that was a really fast weekend. Guess what I got to do? D'ya know? D'ya know? I got to go to a Clemson game without kids! That's right, campers....just me and the hubs. [Please know that I rank the word "hubs" right up there with "prego". I'm being foolish because I'm giddy from joy.]

It was kind of a lame team they played (Middle Tennessee). It was pretty hot for tailgating. The boiled peanuts didn't have enough salt on them. Oh, and it rained on us from the middle of the first quarter until we left at the end of the third. But IT WAS FANTASTIC. I just need a break every now and then, you know? It was absolutely delightful, I'd call it.

Everyone involved was happy. Mr. Pigs and I got a day off. The inlaws got the boys all to themselves. The boys got to do whatever they wanted. Win win win!

Have I mentioned that my laptop battery only lasts for about 20 minutes these days? Really inconvenient, must order a new one. But! Piglet starts back to preschool tomorrow Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. Fingers crossed that he loves his new teachers and class because when he's happy, I'm happy! This is my polite, yet firm, way to say good night. Sorry for the short post, but the battery has left me with little choice but to catch up with you tomorrow.

Get Yer Pictures!

Okay, so let's catch up. Here we have Piglet. Yes, this is the most accurate recent picture I have of him. I don't remember where his pants were or exactly why he's wearing a ski hat, but this is a pretty typical picture of Piglet.



Since we're featuring Piglet, we must of course catch up on Pigpen. You might notice that this picture is blurred. This is because Pigpen is in constant motion. In this particular picture, he is practicing taking steps and lunging at me because for him that is the whole reason to walk: to tackle me in a baby hug at the end. You may also note that he is wearing his "P-Dawg" shirt from his Aunt Eddie.



Here we have a request from the peanut gallery. This is the floor of my pantry. It's kind of embarrassing now that I'm looking at it. The rest of the reserves are in the basement. I am extremely well-stocked in salad dressing, barbeque sauce, and A-1, much of which will be donated. So, yes, I am still couponing in earnest.



And, our good 'ol buddy Gus. This is Gus exiting the new porch through his doggie door, which he thought was insultingly undignified for a dog of his stature. He still chooses to use the people door any time it's open long enough for him to scamper through, but has stooped to mastering the doggie door.



And....my new lair. My new porch! Looking to the right, we feature the dining area. We have had a couple of dinners out there so far and they are quite delightful.



Looking to the left, we are featuring a sitting and chatting area with a climby toy behind it. And a dog door, let us not forget the dog door. I had to partially deconstruct the slide, as Pigpen seems to have a strong desire to dive off of it headfirst.



I guess this ends our photo tour. I would be glad to accept more photo requests, as this gives me something constructive to write about when my brain lapses!

Einstein at 14 months

Pigpen can say:
Mama
Dada
Piglet
Gus
dog
woof woof
baa
moo
bzzz (bee)
cup
car
ball
done
bird
down

And he signs:
thirsty
hungry
milk
more

He's pretty clearly a genius.

What Else? It's Poop.

Oh my gosh it was such a Tuesday that I barely want to describe it. You know what would be interesting? If I had labeled all of my Tuesday posts from the last five years and you could just go read through those. Might be kind of depressing. It all started in college, you know. All of those looooooong Tuesday/Thursday classes. And every stinkin' lab was on a Tuesday. Oh, and any night class was guaranteed to be on a Tuesday. Then it transferred to teaching. In NC, it was always the day that I didn't have a special. Thank goodness when I moved to Texas, it was illegal for teachers not to have a conference period, but then guess what? Staff meetings were always on Tuesdays. Never failed.

Anyway, enough on the history of Tuesdays. My today was definitely a Tuesday and I'll just go there and then to bed. Piglet is sick. This is on top of my being sick with whatever-I-have. After a week of antibiotics, the only difference I see is that nothing is green anymore. Still snorting and snuffling. I digress....back to Piglet. He's sick and sad about it. This does not stop him from playing or tackling Pigpen or spreading his germs.

And the potty training....OH, the potty training. He's doing fairly well with the pee. He's in big boy underwear in the daytime and as long as I remind him, he's good to go. Every now and then he even tells me he needs to go, which is definite progress. The problem, of course, is poop. He doesn't like to poop in the potty yet. Soon, he says, but not yet. Today he actually pooped a big one (sorry for details) in the potty, so I thought he was all clear for the afternoon. Alas.

You must know that he pooped in his drawers, but I bet you didn't know that it was WHILE HE WAS RIDING HORSIE ON MY BACK. You read that right. Nasty to the nth degree. Foul. So I took him to pee and found the stealth poop all smeary smear on his potty and legs and, unfortunately, hand from taking down his pants.

I carried him to the bathroom, careful not to get poo on the carpet, and started to clean him up. Dumping the poo in the toilet, I shuddered at the nastiness and moved on. As I finally got Piglet cleaned up, I heard a splash. Then a giggle. And a squeal. There, happily ensconced in the toilet, splashing in his brother's filth was Pigpen. Are you shocked? A pig in mud. Almost literally.

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!" I shouted, scaring them both with my full body shudder. I snatched him up and began hazmat cleaning him as fast as I could. Gus meandered in. What are y'all up to? I could read in his eyes. He loves a good mess. But I'm still not speaking to him since yesterday's repeat raisin-eating incident which involved hydrogen peroxide and enough dog hair to make a new dog in my clean bathtub and two huge piles of foamy puke in my kitchen.

And that brings us to my bedtime. After meeting with Piglet's preschool teacher this evening who proclaimed herself "The Master Potty Trainer", I love her already. I relaxed when she said those words. One more week til school starts. If we can avoid the Swine Flu, we're good to go.