Name My Prize

What, WHAAAAAAT?! Do you know what day it is? Do you? I'll give you a hint....it's been 111 days of summer break and this Mom of the Year right here has survived it!

[pause for lengthy applause]

It's such an important evening to me, that I am moved into song. A little free verse, perhaps. Ahem. Hem, hem...

Twas the night before preschool
The bags packed and ready
Lunchboxes are full
And mommy is steady.

Focused she is on the tasks to be done
Extra clothes, order forms,
Checked off one by one.

In the morning, the summer will end at long last
Long hot days in the sun, a part of the past.
Mommy smiles as she dreams of fall days yet to come:
Solo shopping, long showers, time with number one.

Even Gus is excited, it's there in his eyes!
He can't wait til the morn to wave bye to those guys.

No more swim team or pool dates
Or water gun fights...
Early bedtimes and schedules
Are Mommy's delight!

Okay, that kind of fell apart there at the end, but I'm sure you get the sentiment. Just picture me skipping about and kicking my heels together. Add a little perma-grin and you've got it. The boys are so ready to go back to school. The repetition of summer (gym, pool, gym, pool, gym, pool) has gotten to everyone. It's time for a change! A new time! Some freedom! Ahhhhh......

So, what should my prize be for surviving 111 days with a three year old and a four year old? Hmmm?

Forehead Fungus. Of course.

Picked up a prescription cream for Pigpen’s latest malady today: Forehead Fungus.

Me: Hi! I’m here to pick up a prescription?

Cashier: [squinting at label] Ummmm…okay. Hang on.

Pharmacist: [appears at drive thru window, leaning out]: Um, hi. Do you have any questions about this….medication?

He whispered this last line, glancing around lest someone overheard him.


Pharmacist: Do you know how to apply it?

Me: Uhhh….I just rub it on his forehead, right?

This is all very shady. I’m wondering about the caliber of fungus that Pigpen has acquired.

Pharmacist: Oh, this isn’t for you?

Me: No. For my three year old. Fungus on the head. [gesture at Pigpen and his fungus]

Pharmacist: Oh. [looks at label again] Interesting. Okay, then. Have a good day!

Me: [baffled]

As I drove off, I glanced at the label. At the huge black letters: VAGINAL ANTI-FUNGAL

Ohhhhhh…..Awkward.

Ouch. Again.

I've somehow managed to injure myself again. If you've been reading this blog for any length of time, you are probably nodding your head with lack of surprise. I'm at least not injured in a "sink shattered on my foot" or a "threw out my shoulder teaching writing" kind of way. Not even in a "cut the end of my finger off on a mandolin" manner. Just your average 'ol "don't know how I did it, but it hurts" way. I have some weird strain in my calf that's been there for a couple of weeks. Someone at the pool casually mentioned that she hoped I didn't have a blood clot and sent me into a frenzy of frantic Dr. Googling (not recommended).

Anyhoo, I did some slow, lame old lady walking on the track at the gym today and stretched it for all I was worth. Still hurts. I really prefer an injury that just goes away. And one that doesn't cause the elderly to look at me with suspicion.

I need to get it better by Friday because I have been invited to a weekend in the mountains! Without kids! Did you hear me? I'm going to back up and say it again. Imagine a slow whisper: without kids! Heeee! I haven't enjoyed a girls' weekend since last year's wedding crashing debacle. I'm going to have to straighten up and pay attention because this weekend is going to be a lot more active and a lot less girly than my spa and make up filled getaway. For this one, I need to bring active wear and water bottles. Bug spray and tennis shoes. And let's be realistic: a first aid kit and my crash helmet.

My goal for the weekend is to not be injured. Also, to not watch any children's programming about garbage trucks, construction or dinosaurs. I'd like to eat a grown up meal or two with flowing conversation not punctuated by barking orders at my children regarding manners, toilets or language. I might like to read a book without pictures and take a shower without spectators. Hey! I might get to take a poop by myself! What will that be like?

*pondering solo defecation*

Did I mention that we're going zip-lining? Squeeee! I'm pretty excited. Pray that I don't get the faulty harness or forget to do something important. Like hold on. Now, back to nursing this pesky calf. Suggestions accepted.

Worthy

You know I think about you every day, right? These long, lonely absences are weighing on me as much as they certainly are on you. Every day, little things happen and I think, "Ooh! Blogworthy!" and then they flitter out of my head like the rest of my thoughts and I forget them. I am genuinely sad that I'm not going to have much record of August on the books, as this is the closest I will get to keeping baby books for my children.

I have to fight a war against my brain trying to block out these long days filled with squabbling and dirt and toys with small pieces. The human brain is obviously programmed to forget these early years, or our species would have died out a long time ago. I suspect that's what happened with the dinosaurs. The mama T-Rex was all, "If I have to deal with one more Triceratops carcass left on this floor, there will be no siblings for you!" Then you know what happened after that. Shrug. Just a theory. 

The one that made me laugh today(quietly behind my hand, of course) was Piglet coaching Pigpen on a kid's iPhone game. He was about to come out of his skin wanting to just do it for him, and all I could hear was, "Pigpen! Tap that! TAP THAT, Pigpen!" If you are of my generation you are chuckling to yourself. If you are my mother, just nevermind. *whistling*

I've been spending a lot of time working on the Common Cents Meals stuff. It's actually really fun, which is embarrassing as it is probably the most publicly nerdy thing I've done since writing and performing the Writing Rap for my students before the Writing Test each year.

[Ten minutes just lapsed as I probed my brain to remember the rap. The girls at my first school used to jump rope to it on the playground because I WAS THAT AWESOME. They called me Miss Mix-A-Lot. Okay, they didn't. That was a lie.] If someone can give me a beat-box in the comments, I'll throw down some lyrics.

I have digressed beyond recovery here. Where in the world was I? Eh, I have no idea. I'll reset my brain tomorrow. Was this worthy of posting?

Our First Very Formal Interview with Pigpen, Aged 3 and 2 months.

How old are you? 3

When were you born? In Texas.

Where did you come from? I didn’t tell you.


What is your dad's name? Daddy.


What does your dad do? Go to work.


What is your mom's name? Mommy.


What does your mom do? Take care of us.


What do you do at school? See our friends and nice teachers.


What are you scared of? Crocodiles


What is your favorite thing? I like to paint.


What is your favorite color? Blue.


What is your favorite food? Grapes! And hot dogs! And watermelon. Do we got some watermelon? We might have to buy some.


What foods do you not like? Acorns.


Where is your favorite place to eat? At Chepe’s!Are we gonna eat at Chepe’s today? Are we gonna go to a restaurant? Why not?


What is your favorite animal? Baby hippo!


What does Daddy say to you? Don’t run.

What does Mommy say to you? Don’t run either.


Who is your best friend? Hope. I like Hope.


What is your favorite movie? Dirt Monsters.


What is your favorite toy? Tinker Toys. We were looking for some.


What are your favorite things to do? Go outside and dig. And see Kimberley and Kylie.


What is your favorite book? The Three Little Pigs. And the bad, bad wolf.


What do you want to do when you're grown up that you can't do now? Reach food in the pantry.


What do you want to be when you grow up? I want to be this tall. And be a grown up. Mommy, are you a grown up? I want to be as tall as Uncle Daniel.


Where do you want to live when you grow up? In the study.


Are you going to get married? What?


Are you going to have any kids? Yes.

How many? This many! [five fingers]


Boys or girls? Boys!


Who will clean the house? Me.


Who will take out the garbage? Me and Daddy.

Where is your favorite place to go? To Chepe’s!


What's something you think kids should be allowed to do? Be a good boy.


What's something you don't like? Acorns.

A Very Formal Interview with Piglet, aged 4 years, 11 months

How old are you? 4 and a half

When were you born? Texas.

Where did you come from? Georgia.

What is your dad's name? Daddy.

What does your dad do? Work.

What is your mom's name? Mommy.

What does your mom do? [long silence] Take care of you! (Pigpen: "Are you the babysitter, Mama?")

What do you do at school? Play on the playground.

What are you scared of? Snakes.

What is your favorite thing? To help Daddy work.

What is your favorite color? Purple. Orange. (Pigpen: "No, I like pink! Hey look! A birdie!")

What is your favorite food? Tacos! Mostly because of sour cream.

What foods do you not like? Chicken tenders. I don't even like chicken tenders. (Pigpen: "Look at that birdie! Awwww! Hi birdie! Can I have chicken nuggets?")

Where is your favorite place to eat? Chepe's! They have sides of sour cream.

What is your favorite animal? Giraffe-ies! (Pigpen: "And I like a baby hippo! Look, another birdie!")

What does Daddy say to you? Do you want to go to Lowe's with me?

What does Mommy say to you? Be good.

Who is your best friend? Vivian. Only Vivian.

What is your favorite movie? McQueen

What is your favorite toy? Typewriter. (Me: You don't have a typewriter. Piglet: What is a typewriter?)

What are your favorite things to do? Cut down trees. Go down the water slide. Play.

What is your favorite book? Mickey Mouse. But the handle broke off, but Daddy fixed it. I didn't actually break the handle off. It wasn't me that did it. What are you typing?

What do you want to do when you're grown up that you can't do now? Hmmmm! Dig holes that are very, very deep with a big boy shovel.

What do you want to be when you grow up? An engineer like Daddy.

Where do you want to live when you grow up? Here. Here, here.

Are you going to get married? No

Are you going to have any kids? No! I want to stay here!

How many? No, I want to stay here!

Boys or girls? I'm here! Mommy, are you even listening to me?

Who will clean the house? Me. (Pigpen: "No, I want to do it!" Piglet: "Absolutely no.")

[At this point, Piglet reached over and turned off my computer and some unmentionable parenting occurred. We will resume now.]

Who will take out the garbage? Me!
Where is your favorite place to go? The pool.

What's something you think kids should be allowed to do? Saw! With a circular saw!

What's something you don't like? I don't like.....hmm. I don't like daddy to say no.

(Pigpen: "Piglet, are you almost done? Can you come get in my rocket ship?") And so my day resumes...

HAWT. Duh, it's August.

Well, hey there! If we were fraternizing on Facebook, I'd surely show you a screen shot from my iPhone of our weather forecast. That, or a picture of the dashboard temperature reading in my car. Lucky for you, we're not on Facebook and I'm not (actively) trying to be annoying right now. I just wanted to gripe about that for a paragraph or so. Scrolling through ye olde Newsfeed gets really boring just looking at pictures of everyone's phones. I mean, YES, it's hot. But, hellooo? It's August? Isn't this what everyone wanted when we were all snowed in back in January? I love hot weather, frankly. I'd take this hot mess year round if I could. I'd rather sweat than shiver anyday.

[Panting from exertion of rant.]
What else is new? Well, not a whole lot. I've been trying to not throw up from the skeery nature of throwing this menu planning idea out to the Internet. I've been attempting to train and retrain my wild children who are a little tired of each other and still have a good five weeks before preschool starts. I've been at the pool and the gym pretty much every day to try to maintain my sanity. How about you? What's up, peeps?

Oh. Em. Gee.

Y'all, I've up and done it. After months of hemming and hawing about whether or not I think it would work, I've gone and started a wee little business like thing. A service, if you will. One which creates menus for people based on the local sales at Publix and writes a grocery list for them containing the best deals worth their time for breakfasts and lunches too.

Oh. my.

It's a lot of work to write the menus and make all the lists, but I really don't mind doing it if it will work. I've always wanted something I can do from home and if this was to work? It could be it! It could, it really could! It probably won't work. Sigh.

OH, MY.

I've been spending a lot of my computer time setting up a blogsite. And Facebook. And Twitter. There's just so many places to put things these days! Deep breaths. Assume meditative stance.

If you would like to take a gander at my little project, it's over here: Common Cents Meals. Just hanging out over there, all new and fresh. Tell me what you think? I'll be over here, throwing up in my mouth.

Actual Conversation From My House Tonight:

Pigpen: I have to poop. [assumes position on potty]
Daddy: Piglet, go to bed.
Piglet: No, I want to see how many inches Pigpen's poop is.
Me: [snort]
Pigpen: Look! [points proudly at own stool]
Piglet: Whoa! That's big! I'm glad it's not any bigger or it would smell even worse!
Me: [collapsed in heap of laughter on floor clutching stomach]
Daddy: Hoo! Lord! That smells to high holy, Pigpen!
Pigpen: [grins proudly] I'm a big boy.
Me: [Gasping for air, still in hysterics]
Piglet: Where's Mommy?

Hey, um....has anyone seen Pigs? Hmm.

Well, obviously, I made it to the beach. And obviously, I had no internet connection. Okay, that's a lie. I had no time to blog. Well, that's not really the truth either. See, there was this huge octopus that walked up out of the sea and typed eight-legged emails to all of his friends using my computer. I kept trying to get to the keyboard. "I have to write a blog post!" I told him (with desperation in my voice, natch). I hung in there after he whacked me with his tentacles, one after another. But then he got a little too close to comfort to my new bionic, de-cataracted eye and I got uncomfortable. I resigned myself to sitting idly by while he borrowed my computer for seven days. You understand, right?

Here's the rundown in photos of what I would have written about had I had access to my computer:

First, it's important to begin each day with a lively run. Children possess ridiculous amounts of energy and it is good for their disposition if they expend some of that energy. Nicer parents would have told them how far to run. We found it more entertaining just to see how far they would go. We're still not sure who won.

Next, of course, comes digging. Planning, trenching, and more digging. This project below was the result of the efforts of three grown men. Piglet and Pigpen assisted and learned.

And upon completion, they critically surveyed their work, and excitedly watched their hole fill with shark pee.

After a display of manliness, it was time to pick up the ladies. Young Lily Margaret was the focus of their attention this year. She taught them a thing or two. Pigpen has waaaay more game than Piglet.

I like to wrap up each day with a photo session in which Piglet pretends he's in a magazine ad and laughs gaily into the wind. Pigpen looks on with confusion.

Pigpen redeems himself by skipping jauntily into the sunset.

After dinner, a round of mini golf is in order. The boys averaged 16 strokes on a 3 par course on each hole. Somehow, Piglet managed to score a hole in one on the last whole, earning a free game. We will be saving said game for next year.

At last, we do a little of what I like to call Beach Sleepin'. 

And aside from a little wave riding and boat riding, that's what you missed. We will now return to our regularly scheduled program.

These deprived children are clearly bored.

Ah, Saturday. So good to see you, friend. Another fun-filled day is complete.

Today, I had the privilege of going to The Wal-Mart. As it turns out, The Wal-Mart also does not carry my book. While they had an impressive display of hunting manuals and NASCAR literature, they were not heavy on pop culture reading. I had the pleasure of people watching for a good fifteen minutes while the family in front of me checked out. It was one of those inappropriate games of "Just How Do These People Fit Together?" as I observed the woman (40?), the two obese, yet scantily clad, teenage girls (15?), the emo/camoflaged sullen teenaged boy (17?) and the baby (18 months?). Such a challenge! The woman must be the mom, but to whom? Is the baby hers or one of the teenagers'? Is the boy the son or the baby daddy? So many variables, such interesting, fitted, shiny attire. Really, a lovely wait in line. Alas, I am never to know.

The boys crammed in at least a week's worth of activities into a day as they played golf, had a picnic, played on the swingset, rode the Gator, picked up pinecones, and built a home for squirrels from a sandpile.

Above, Piglet takes a swing. He chased every single ball and brought it back on foot. He was literally asleep in less than one minute when I put him to bed.

Oh, and I forgot their trip to the fire station. Because this day really needed just one more little thing squeezed in, right? They got to sound the siren, squirt the hose, and explore the truck. Small towns have options big ones don't, I suppose!

And now is the time on Sprockets when I sleep. Mr. Pigs and I are taking turns getting up with the boys this week and tomorrow is my turn. For some reason, when we travel our children wake with the sun. Unfortunately for us, the further east we travel, the earlier that sun comes up. Urgh. I'll come to you next from the beach! My stomach just sank envisioning how early the sun comes up at the beach.

That's right, I said "Moist Carpet Flap"

Hey, look! I'm almost on vacation! Well, if by almost on vacation you mean spending 3 days at my inlaws house in the cowntry (yes, you have to spell it like that, it's that far out) with two children who wake up at 5:30am (that's in the morning to you!) along with - yes, really - local roosters. Sure! I'm on vacation! I think I'm suffering from some blinding delirium.

While I attempt to recover my senses, please enjoy this shot of my father in law's worm farm. He keeps it well fed with cornmeal and table scraps and covered with a moist carpet flap. Hold your dinners, now.

Speaking of the worm farm, the boys really enjoyed using said worms to go fishing:

Okay, well, Piglet had a large time. Pigpen wasn't so sure about grabbing hold of his fish. This is his "For the love of God, take the picture NOW, woman! Can't you see I'm touching a fish? I'm dying inside!" face:

So that was pretty much day one, save some tractor riding, Gator riding, golf cart riding, lawn mower riding, bike riding, and yard pooling. You know, in matching wife beater gifts. Oh, and I was mighty impressed to note that the local post office (the one right beside the town's single blinking caution light) was still draped in icicle lights. Yep, in July. Government building. Mmmm hmmm. *whistling*

The reason I passed the post office was in my search for my book club book that I bought through Amazon and it didn't arrive until after I left home. (The Happiness Project for those interested) I was surprised to find that the stores two towns over (only stores, seriously) do not sell books. I'm sorry, the CVS did have an impressive array of Harlequin romance novels and something called "The Breast Book" which I didn't not examine too closely. Tomorrow I'm going to drive 30 minutes in the other direction to The Wal-Mart (when there's only one in a 100 mile radius, you have to add the "The". And capitalize it.) in hopes of finding one of them new fangled book things.

My shopping fail left me with an overwhelming urge to buy something, so I filled that need with coupon-purchased (natch) shampoo, sunscreen, and some shiny green nailpolish. Green? you ask. Green. A peppy, bright green. I'm going to the beach, who cares? And frankly, I think it's perky, summery and cute. Apparently not. The following are the comments I received back at the homestead, in order:

MIL: "Puts me in the mind of gangrene."

Mr. Pigs: "Hideous."

FIL: "Mercy me! What got after your toes?"

Piglet: "Will you do mine?"

Sigh. No tolerance for anything new or different around here. That ought to bring you up to date. Beach in two days. Until then, friends.

General Malaise

Well, I disappeared there, didn't I? I've had time to write, but haven't felt up to being amusing or even snarky (!!). Sometimes life isn't funny, and that really bums me out. It took me ten minutes to write those three sentences, so clearly I'm not good at expressing this side of life. I'll just move along.

My old pal AMP blew into town this weekend. For months, we've been planning a stellar getaway, one remniscent of our college days, our young single days, our freedom! Yeah, well. The best laid plans can be waylaid by a bad case of gas and an overwhelming urge to sit in bed eating junk food while watching The Soup. It seems that with age we have developed a new set of priorites: a satisfying amount of quality sleep and good food.

Today has been one of those back to reality days as I skipped bathing, spent the entire day organizing and packing for our beach trip, and alternated between disciplining my wayward children (hitting, spitting, attaching the word poop to the end of every sentence) and my beagle (gobbling pieces of poop from an unflushed toilet). So, one might say it's been a poopy Tuesday.

My apologies for the gap in posting. I will try to get back on board next week at the beach.

My happy place.

MommyProf and Katielady requested the porch. The porch is our favorite little hang out spot from March through November. Then I decorate it for Christmas and shut her down for 3 months of winter. This seasonal take down usually sends me to my sad place. The porch represents sunshine and beer and friends and beer and a fan breeze and beer and watching the kids play without having to be involved in the actual elements. And beer. Of course.

This view looks out onto the deck where Mr. Pigs sweats and grills whilst I sit inside the porch and perch delicately on a bar stool. I have a lot of plants who are super happy out on the porch and get most fussy when I bring them back inside. This view also features Gus's doggie door, a large part of his canine independence. He digs it. The tall bar table on the right is my life guard stand. It's tall enough that I can keep a responsible eye on the chil'rens while engaging in the adult end of a happy hour playdate.

This view looks out into the other side of the yard and features our dining table, where we eat dinner most of time. Assuming it's not 95 degrees with 90% humidity (not raining) as it was the other night. Piglet and Pigpen were most chagrined to have to eat indoors. The torment we put them through is truly inexcusable. Not surprisingly, I just noticed a scantily clad Pigpen in the right side of this picture. No one ever has on appropriate attire in this house.



My favorite porch time is evening when there's not so much blazing sun. The birds are noisy, the windchimes, well, chime, and the iPod can play some tunes. It's a happy little blog place. Or book place. Or chatting place. It's my happy place.

Homework at the End

Well, lookie here. Back to this again, are we? I simply must come up with something new to talk about aside from these pictures. I have in my head a great deal of things to say about showering by myself. Or the lack of solo showering that I am allowed. It's swirling around in my brain, maybe 1/3 written. I'll get to that another day.....this is easier.

Tasha wanted to see unusual books I have. Well, if you know me at all you won't be surprised what I found looking in just one bookcase. I'm sure if I really made a valiant effort I could come up with more, but this was just too easy:



Laura B. asked to see the pile of books in my To Be Read pile, the short version of which happens to reside on my nightstand. There is a secondary pile that accumulates in the study and phases in as I finish books up. I like to have options when I lie down to read at night. I have never in my life read one book at a time because I'm always in the mood for something different. I bring you my bedside pile of "Reading Currently":

Well, was reading currently when I took this picture last week. From the bottom up, The Purpose Driven Life....my Sunday School class in Texas read this probably five years ago, and I remember liking it, so I am giving it a whirl again. It's not going to get read in the 40 days it's supposed to, but I figure it's my second time reading it. It's like auditing a class or something, right? Then, the non-fiction, textbook-style Exploring Harry Potter. It was written after the fourth book came out, so it's a little weird to read the predictions of "what's coming next!" when I know what happened. Good for some non-fiction if I want to pretend I'm scholarly and wise. I am sure to nod gravely at the predictions that are correct. 

Next up, Anne of Green Gables. I could read this book a thousand times. From the looks of it, I probably have read that book a thousand times. That copy  has been around since the 5th grade. I have another, newer copy, but I'm kind of attached to the old broken in one. It's sort of my comfort book. I like to retreat to the world of Diana and Gilbert and follow Anne around in my head.

Okay, the next one is pretty lame. It's called Queen of Babble, and you might note that in my sidebar I have listed two other books from the same series. The other two I listened to in the car, and I have to say, these books are much better to listen to than they are to read. When I read the book, it makes me feel like my IQ is dropping. That's not a very hearty recommendation, is it?

Tina Fey's Bossypants is my next one. I'm supposed to have it finished for my book club meeting this Friday, but I'm not sure that's going to happen. I was looking forward to reading it, but it's not nearly as funny as I thought it would be. It's entertaining, but it's not the book I've been picking at night. I suspect it would be better as an audiobook read by Tina Fey. But, it's cute. I'm sure I'll finish it at some point.

The top two I have just finished, and I liked both of them a lot. A Soft Place to Land is the second book I've read by this author this month; the first was called Bound South. I saw Bound South reviewed in a magazine and wasn't disappointed, so I went for the second one. My only complaint was that Meredith College (my school) was mentioned in both books in reference to the sororities that women joined there. Except there are no sororities at Meredith and thus, I was annoyed greatly enough to debate emailing the author to gripe. I decided against it since I enjoyed the books. The other one up there, The Dry Grass of August, I also picked up from a magazine reference listed as a book one might like if one liked The Help. Which I did. A lot. It was good as well....same time period, same civil rights issues, more serious than The Help, I thought. Less light. But a good read!

I feel like I've just done a book report. Or seven. Since I finished those other two books, I have since added in one called A Watery Part of the World, another magazine recommendation. Since I obviously thrive on recommendations, your contribution to this fine book report can be to leave me one or two of your recent reads that I might like. Go!



Waste Not, Want Not

Okay, so Laura B. wanted to see the stash. Well, this is only the basement overflow stash. Other things are scattered throughout the house in more convenient locations, but these are things that I don't use as often or can't give away readily. I keep a bag in my pantry for the food pantry stuff. And the toilet cleaner and Kleenex stash reside upstairs. I rarely use paper towels, so we go through them slowly, hence the basement pile. 

The rest of it is dish soap, dishwasher detergent, a zillion things of Vitamin D, deodorant, and first aid kits. I can't give away all that Vivarin to save my life and no one wants to admit that they want the poise. Or the Dulcolax. Other upstairs stashes also include a laundry room full of detergents and fabric softeners, as well as my boys' bathroom cabinet filled with Johnson & Johnson Buddy Bars.

Now, what I do NOT have is a stash of toilet paper. I have a price threshold for all products. I will not pay more than $4.50 for a 12 pack of double rolls in the toilet paper category. This can be challenging to find, so I don't actually have a stash of the two ply. The reason that I am sharing this with you is to help you understand the internal rage which bubbled up inside of me when I found two rolls of brand new toilet paper which had been dunked into the toilet and hastily hidden in the bathroom trash can tonight.

SOMEONE will be using those two rolls of toilet paper. Oh, yes. They will be used. Currently, they are drying on my kitchen counter. OH THE RAGE.

Why are pants so hard?

Hoo boy! I'm recovering from sticking my finger into a smear of what I suspect was ear wax lying stealthily in wait for me in an undisclosed location. Shudder. I don't think I'm over it yet. Gack, gack.

Distract me with picture posts! This one I thought was kind of neat from Katielady, though I don't think my kids have the same kind of eye as hers might. I give you: photos snapped by Piglet. Oh, and one at the end by Pigpen because he was feeling left out.

1. Naturally, he started with the dog. The one he proudly calls "My puppy" to anyone who will listen. Gus is a fast fellow when surrounded by preschool types and he zipped out of the shot faster that Piglet could snap it.

2. A very, um....artistic? Ish? shot of chairs. Bar stools, to be precise. And a wet, used, discarded swim diaper on the floor in the background. Keepin' it klassy.

3. Once Pigpen saw Piglet with my camera, he had to get theirs. In this first-ever-tried shot, the two boys photograph one another. Gasp! Clearly, they are genius children. Note Pigpen wearing his smack your mama they're so cute unkies. Please croon in unison.

4. Naturally, Pigpen had to have a shot at the camera. After an amicable swap, Piglet agrees to be in Pigpen's photo. Why is no one wearing shirts in my house? Do you know how many times each day I utter the phrase, "Why aren't you wearing pants?" Way more than I think to be normal, I'll tell you that. I have never had a problem with wearing pants. Shoes, yes. Pants, not so much. Please pardon my partially dressed clan. They do not get this habit from me.

This brings us to the end. Would be lovely to hear from you. Just hanging over here. Doing your bidding and all.

Augustus Mortimer, aged 10

Ah, back to ye olde picture post. You know, this thing really does keep me going. Gives me a topic to write about other than, say....how I'm going to wring Piglet's neck if he doesn't snap out of this evil phase he's going through. That would be the one in which he acts like a hormonal teenager laced with rage about 50% of the time. Wild moods swings, plus lots of hiccups, so I'm thinking maybe a growth spurt. I've just never seen such an emotional growth spurt. But enough of my struggles! Let's get to those pictures.

My long time imaginary blog friend The Mighty Favog has requested lots and lots of Gus. Now, I realize that Gus doesn't get nearly the action that he used to around here, but he is no less present than ever. Tonight, in fact, I had to call the emergency vet to confirm that Craisins are not poisonous as compared to their cousin Raisins. (They are not.)

So, I bring you Gus. Lots and lots of Gus. Also, what I imagine that he is saying in each shot:

"These kids. Hooligans. Common street trash. Can't appreciate a dog's right to rest. All the poking and the prodding. Give a dog a break. I'm exhausted."

"Something good has got to come my way. I'm not moving from this spot. Table scraps or excrement. I've got to get something here."

"Vet?! What vet? Whatchoo mean, vet? Whatchoo talkin' 'bout, Willis?"

"Ride in the car? What? Um, YES PLEASE!"

"Again? Seriously? You're as bad as they are."

"Maybe they won't recognize me...."

And that, friends, is about all that Gus does. His days are filled with relocations from couch to chair as he tries to escape those dastardly youth. And about four times a day, he takes a romp outside to poop in the middle of the grass (not the woods) and howl at the pack of hound dogs that reside in a dog pen back yonder through said woods. And then, he rests.

How to Potty Train Your Toddler Boy

1. Ensure that washing machine is in full working order.

2. Procure a bottle of Resolve and several rags.

3. Dig out "lap pads" that some thoughtful relative gave you when you had a newborn. Place them craftily upon any surface on which your toddler boy dwells. Do not forget the car seat. [Friendly tip: these are also awesome to have in car for wet bathing suit rides home from pool.]

4. Put your toddler boy in tiny underwear so cute you could slap your face.

5. Fill toddler boy with large volumes of juice. Teach him to chug. Chant accordingly as though at basement fraternity party.

6. Wait.

7. If he has successful attempts at the little potty, see step eight. If he continually wets himself and pleads for diapers, abort mission. Repeat, abort mission. Try again in a month or two.

8. Award said toddler boy with something he values. Have on hand large supply of candy, cookies, stickers....any bribe is acceptable. Regular rules do not apply in the realm of potty training. Dental health is irrelevant.

9. Watch child run for potty multiple times. Be prepared to scream, dance, cheer, and leap about as though possessed following each and every Important Event. Shower child with goodies. Dance some more. Call grandma. Tell strangers passing by.

10. Watch child race for potty while holding his backside. When the Official Most Important Deposit is made congratulate self. High five child. Shake your money maker.

11. Have a beer. The fact that it is 10:00am is not important. Your toddler boy is becoming Trained. Life is good.

12. Place at least two pairs of tiny underwear and a pair of shorts in your purse. Things happen. Also, they're fun to pull out at parties.

Picture Requests, continued:

From MommyProf: Things I miss from before I had children. She gave me permission to use an old picture, so I stole this one right off of my own blog from Summer 2006. This means that I was pregnant in this picture, which I don't miss, but look at the luxury! The floating! No one hanging on me! Bliss. And I'm pretty sure that about an hour after this picture was taken, there was probably some form of Sonic ingested. Ahhhhh.....



Now, let's be real. Things really aren't that different. I still go to the pool every day. I still get to turn brown and collect daily doses of Vitamin D and float in the water. I'm just doing it with some extra luggage, more snacks, and a pool noodle or two. Something I have now that I didn't have then is a completely legitimate excuse to be on the water slide. And also to speak sternly at other people's children if they are endangering my own. Heh. Bring on my bathrobe and shaking cane.