Tag Archives: funny

Futile vs Futile: A toilet story

Kids were put to bed a few minutes ago and I’m sitting in my bed.

I can hear my on heart beating and my breath weighing heavier and heavier. Sheer exhaustion.

I’m at a point where I could sleep anywhere anytime if you gave me the reassurance that the kids are taken care of. Actually, I take that back.

Any reassurance is never enough unless we’re the ones tending to them isn’t it?

Never a moment of peace…I’m not complaining, I’m just describing.

I’m too tired for structure so I’m just going randomly jump from one topic to the next (as usual)…I’m the shame of the blogging community…I know.

But seriously, who else shamelessly tells you what happens to them on the toilet…

Isn’t it the worst thing when you have to go and you’re not home ? I mean go…#2. I know someone who can’t do it unless they’re home. They’ll drive home no matter what! I find that to be risky business. You should avoid long stretches of road, speed bumps and potholes in that state…

Driving home is a little over the top, but trying to be discreet about it isn’t. There are various tactics used to maximise discretion. You can try to pick the furthest bathroom without going too far. If you go too far you’re going to raise suspicions. Once you’re in there you should assess the 4th sense situation. No one’s seeing dead people… I’m talking about smell.

Girls’ smell like potpourri and/or roses of course.

You try and locate a window, maybe find some air freshener. Actually, I don’t recommend the air freshener per se because then you’re somewhat giving yourself away. If you walk into a bathroom and it smells like freshly sprayed air freshener, then you know the previous user definitely has a secret. The window is your best bet unless it’s facing people.

Why would a bathroom window be facing anywhere where there could be people? Don’t they think of these things when they build homes?

I’ve been seen on the toilet by a fireman.

Whaaa?

No he didn’t break the door open and save me from wild flames while I was on the John . Though that would’ve been bitter sweet… Actually the big wide open bathroom window was facing the neighbour’s roof, which happened to be on fire. You get the drift…

So all this to say, that if you have children, all these discretion tactics are completely futile.

Futile! You see Jack? I’m using the word in the right context this time. One time Jack caught me misusing the word “futile”. I use to think that the word futile was meant to describe a bad smell. Like, “Ouf! That was futile!” What’s ironic is that this word only came up in this post that is turning to be mostly about bad smells.

Why would I tell the world that I didn’t know the meaning of a simple word like futile?

Don’t you know me by now?

If you judge me, that makes you a person who judges.

What were we saying? Oh ya, fuuuuutile.

So you assess the situation, discreetly head for the bathroom, locate the window, make sure there’s nothing on fire, do your deed and try to make it quick.

When suddenly… you hear your child.

– “Where’s my mom?”

I swear these kids have a talent for extreme accuracy in worst timing.

– “Where’s my mom? Does anyone know where my mom is?”

At this point everyone’s actively thinking about your whereabouts.

You’re child gets worried and frantically starts looking for you. Yelling “MOM!!!???!” in every room.

Jeez! What am I supposed to do right now? Yell back from the toilet?

I’m just going to hope she’ll forget about me.

Ya right.

People start suggesting locations and then someone gets it. “Maybe she’s in the bathroom.”

Thank you kind Samaritan.

Your child quickly locates the bathroom and starts pounding on the door.

Yelling “MOM ARE YOU IN THERE?!!”

You try to hold back your real emotions and answer with the softest voice. “Yes honey…”

It all stops.

Finally.

Is she gone?

– “OPEN THE DOOR!”…

– “I’m not going to open the door, mommy will be out in a minute, now go play”

– “No! Open the door!”

What was I thinking saying “go play”? That never ever works, why would it work now when I really need it to. THINK!

Ok I got it.

-“How about you go hide and I’m going to come find you when I get out”

– “OK!”

And she runs off.

You know everyone heard you and therefor know that you’re in the bathroom. The situation can still be saved. If you come out within a reasonable time from this incident you can still stay below the radar.

BOOM BOOM BOOM

She’s back! Pounding on the door!

– “MOM?”

Why yell so much? I’m on the other side of the door not on the end of an overseas call from the 70’s!

– “WHAT?!”

– “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

Oh gosh…no please.

– “MOM? ARE YOU MAKING A POOP?”

What can you do at this point? Answer? You better, because if you don’t they’re just going to keep repeating the question louder every time.

– “Yes honey, now go hide.”

I hear her footsteps getting further and further.

That was interesting. Glad it’s over. Could’ve been worse I guess.

“It’s a normal thing, not a big deal” I’m thinking, trying any consolation I can have.

Until I hear her voice in the distance.

– “EVERYBODY! EVERYBODY! I FOUND MY MOM, SHE’S MAKING A POOP IN THAT BATHROOM.”

funny-bathroom-break-kid-baby-hand-door-find-you-pics

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Tomato crime scene

Today, A2 came home from day care with two really large tomatoes. She had picked them herself from the daycare’s teacher’s garden. I can just imagine the fit she threw in order for them to let her pick them. She comes home and orders me “open !”.

I just had time to wash them when she grabbed one of them and sunk her teeth in them. She has my teeth… That means she can do a lot of damage.
Her face was covered in that tomatoes juices, it was dripping down to her chin and into her shirt. That’s how food ends up in our children’s diapers. You open up their diapers and find out what they’ve eaten that day. I’m not talking about the poop, I’m talking about the food you find, as is. It’s like a buffet it there .
After she was done with that identity challenged fruit or vegetable , the house was covered in tomato juice and seeds. Me and my mom were walking around the house with rags in our hands looking for tomato crime scenes.
Sometimes there was even a blood trail leading up to the scene.
Once we got her face, the stairs, the carpet and the couches all cleaned up me and my mom were sitting and laughing at it all, when my mom said to me” wipe you nose, you have something.”
I must admit I didn’t go for a tissue and went straight for it.
It.
It, was a tomato seed.

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A couple of nights ago I set up my camera…

A couple of nights ago I set my camera and decided I would try out the Vlog thing. Video blogging. So I recorded myself just to give it a try. Later I decided this wasn’t for me, I had no clue what to do,  I looked like crap and completely embarrassed myself.

I decided, it will take way to long for me to edit this and there’s no way I can post this raw.

And today I’m thinking about posting it.

I’m thinking, I’m all about being real. Big deal!  The world is going to see me in my pyjamas, with bad hair, talking non-sense…if that’s reality then so be it!

I should post it!

Judging and hating  forbidden.

P.S you  might not see this post tomorrow, I’m pretty sure I’m going to change my mind again and delete this!

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June 5, 2013 · 11:17 pm

Blame the Hand

There’s a thunder shower outside and A1 is holding a flash light in case the lights go out.

Earlier on I was on the computer when she came up to me, pressed on a few keys and my page was lost.

“How many times have I told you not to press on random buttons when mommy’s on the computer?”

She gave me her usual new age puppy face. Face down, eyes up, lips pinched and a little side to side rocking of motion of the head.

Are you reading this and trying the face?

“My hand did it, it wasn’t me” she said.

That answer took me back 20 years. I was 9 years old when I was sneaking around my parents’ basement. I was looking for a secret door leading to some kind of Candy Land/ Never Never Land when I came across the electric box; right under was a big red switch. I couldn’t resist, my hand just went for it. I pushed the switch off and the electricity of the entire house went out. I just stood there in the dark until my father found me. When he asked “But why?” My answer was non-other than “My Hand did it, it wasn’t me”.

I wish I could use that excuse now…

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You never know what the next moment holds.

I’ll close the lights; maybe I won’t see the mess. I’m sitting in the “proper” living room right now, trying to get away from the family room. Just to let you know how “proper” it is here, there’s a tricycle right next to me.

People ask me “doesn’t it bother you?” of course I would love to have a perfectly organized and clean house… but that’s not my reality. I have an almost 2 year old whose second favorite hobby is emptying drawers and cupboards on the floor. There’s no secret stash child!

Her first favorite hobby is sticking her hand in the toilet. You all know that by now.

We try to keep them busy over the weekend by doing activities. We played outside, A2 ate gravel, we drew on the sidewalk, A2 ate the chalk, we made bubbles, A2 drank the bubble soap. Before the day was over she went through 4 outfit changes and finally 10 minutes before bed time she stuck her whole arm in the toilet. Jack had to hold her while I washed her; we scrubbed her as if she was going in to perform surgery. “Scrub harder” Jack insisted. It’s just toilet water, no big deal.

Just as we thought the day was over, we found her in the upstairs bathroom chugging a bottle of Jack’s contact lens cleaning liquid.

After they were all put to bed, I went outside for some fresh air. “I’m outside” I told Jack. Sat on my front porch, exchanged a few texts with some friends and they came by to pick me up for a little drive. We drive up and go watch the mansions sometimes, dream big a little, chit chat a little and I’m usually back home within a half hour.

This time, I came back home 5 hours later, drunk with a glow stick necklace around my neck.

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A2 drank from the toilet. Cheers!

Kids are finally asleep. Jack’s watching the games… Seems like all my posts starts the same way.

So A2 drank toilet water today. We were at my inlaw’s house, when Jack caught her standing in front of the toilet bowl, sucking on a wet hand towel whose other end was still in the toilet. Yey!

He called for me. By the time I got there everyone was gathered in the bathroom. I asked A1 “You went to the bathroom last,please tell me you didn’t forget to flush!”. There was water everywhere and she was soaked. We started to clean up when we realized she had gotten away again. “There’s another bathroom on this floor!” Jack yelled out. We ran to the bedroom bathroom and found her there plotting her next drink.

I wish I was the one who caught her doing that. I would’ve probably left her and ran for my camera.

Oh ya, and no, A1 hadn’t forgotten to flush!  Good girl.

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no structure…and looks like it will keep getting worse.

It’s after school but before supper. A1 and A2 are playing in the backyard while A3’s sleeping inside. I’m sitting on the porch. I’m just letting this sink in. They’re playing outside on their own. There not crying for me, they don’t need anything from me… just on their own.

Already?

It’s feels weird, bitter sweet in a way? I guess I’m going to be like those mothers who feel like their kids grew up too fast and then hold on to their youngest and never let them grow up.

Nah!

Sometimes I think ahead and wonder what kind of journey lies ahead with 3 teenage girls….

I watch Roseanne sometimes and get worried. “We’re quit alike” I think.

Don’t think too far ahead, take it one day at a time. Better yet, don’t only take it one day at a time, enjoy each day, feel each moment and be grateful for what is today. It could all be gone tomorrow.

Easier said than done and even easier read than done.

Sometimes I have to actively stop all my thoughts to ask myself “Am I in the moment?”. I’m usually not. But I would like to be. I’m trying.

Now A2 and A3 are fighting over a toy. Should I interfere? Or let them sort it out on their own. I usually let them deal with each other, I’m not even sure if it’s the right thing to do. I feel like today’s adults are much more involved in the children’s lives. I remember playing in the basement or outside a lot, without my parents hearing all the nonsense I said.

Not sure if it’s a bad or good thing.

I’m going to suddenly change the topic now.

There have been many posts that I’ve deleted, sometimes I felt they went nowhere and other times I felt they were too chaotic and no one in their right mind would be able to follow.

Well, from now on, I’m going to post all of my drafts.

Today a good friend of mine gathered her courage and told me “Your posts need structure, I start reading and give up mid-way because I can’t even follow”

Oh my I gotta go, A2 went inside, she might attack A3, and she has chalk on her face. Not sure if she ate some.

To be continued…

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Talking poop

Finally ! Some down time.

Jack is finally watching tonight’s game. It’s recorded so that he can watch it peacefully once the girls are sleeping. Last time we watched a game together, I asked too many questions and then really aggravated him when I said that the opposite team seem to be better skaters. “They glide better” I said, while our team was losing 5 to 1. Needless to say, I learned a new lesson.

Note to self: Do not say anything negative about the team during a bad game.

In fact, I should’ve stuck with simply not talking to him during the game. What was I thinking?

He was so emotional about it… jeez.

I’ve also learned that to keep our marriage happy I should only say half of the things I’m thinking to say. A less talkative me makes a much happier him.

Poor him he’s got 3 more to deal with, and they all seem to be growing up to be as talkative as me.

Today at the dinner table, A1 asked “Next time I sleep at granma’s I’m going to make cookies, do you think that’s a good idea, a bad idea, a very good idea, a very bad idea, a very very bad idea or a very very good idea?”

Waaaaaaaa? Again we just stand there without an answer. We lost you after “cookie” kid!

Last time at dinner, conversation was about Elephant Poo. “Do you think the Elephant poops this much?” A1 shows the size of a pile, “Or this much?” she show’s a bigger pile. Jack answers “Thiiiiiiiiis muuuuuuuuch!” even A2 was participating to the conversation, after all it was mostly sign language, and poo is a word she knows well.

Poo is a word we know well too. You expect to have to deal with poop when becoming a parent, but no one tells you that it will end up in your hair, on your face and under your socks at least once at some point of the process. You better wish it happens sooner than later, because the older they get, the more real their poop gets. When they’re new born and only drink milk, it barely qualifies as poop, it’s more like mud. It doesn’t even smell all that bad. But when they’re all food group eating toddlers….ooof!

I remember, a long time ago, when my grandmother was changing my bratty little brother’s poopy diaper, he wouldn’t stay put. Poor woman was left in sweats by the time she managed to get him cleaned up. She grabbed a wipe to wipe her face only to realize she had just used the dirty poopy wipe on her face.

I was 8, I laughed so hard not knowing life had similar plans reserved for me…

If someone’s ever scared you by running after you with a Kleenex containing a squished spider, a dirty diaper filled with stinking, hot S&*% is good payback.

Well, I just spent 260 words talking about crap. That’s why blogs are so great, anything goes!

I think next time I’ll write about farts. Oh! So much to say!

Btw after the last post I went to check on the kids and found this.DSC04415 - Copy

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What was I saying? Doesn’t matter, no one’s listening. Game’s on.

Kids are asleep and Jack’s watching the game, perfect time to blog.

After 4 days of all the kids being home, the house looks like a war zone. The good thing about this is that if a robber breaks into our house he’ll think that this house has already been robbed. Everything is on the floor! Cleaning will have to be for another day because I’m beat!

This tiredness is unlike any other, it feels like finally getting home after a long trip and then having to do it all over again, right away without any rest, then again and again for months and months,  years and years…

“Take it day by day” I hear.

I’m trying, I’m learning to not think too far ahead, but it’s hard. I can’t help but worry about everything. I guess you’ve got to take it day by day for the sake of sanity alone. Kind of like a prison sentence I guess…

“Did she just call motherhood a prison sentence?!”

No, that can’t be right. They let you sleep in prison. Well, in this country anyways.

Lately, my memory is shot and worse than ever. It helps to have taken pictures of everything because it helps me remember what we did. Easter weekend, a lot of dressing up, we usually spend our weekends in pyjamas. Not this weekend! I’ll have to look at the pictures to know what we actually did. It’s scary how quickly we all forget everything. What did you have for lunch yesterday? Can you remember?

It doesn’t count! You remember because it was Easter and you were out.

What did you do Friday night?

Well ?

I sure don’t have a clue!

Maybe I’m the only one? Where am I going with this?

I have to move, Jack’s looking for the remote. Jack’s always looking for something. Where are my glasses?  Where are my dentures?  Where is my toothbrush?  You would think he’s an 80 year old man.

Jack just asked: Why are you laughing by yourself?

He looked over and saw I wrote “Dentures”.

Jack: What are you doing? Don’t write that!

Me:  (hiding the screen) Just let me write what I’m thinking before I forget, then I’ll let you read, and we’ll post it if it’s ok with you.

(If you can read all this it means he approves)

What was I saying? The good thing about a blog is that you can read back and know what you were saying. Let me look back.,,

Oh ya, dentures. He calls his mouth guard dentures. He sleeps with that thing because he grinds his teeth at night. A1 does too, in the worse kind of way. It sounds like she’s cracking candy with her teeth all night.

I’ve got to say, I can’t blame him for losing his toothbrush. A2 has a thing for toothbrushes, she’s attached to them just like some kids are attached to blankets or stuffed animals. We’ve bought her a few toothbrushes; she always has one with her but she keeps losing them. So we’re always looking for her toothbrushes.

Basically we’re all always looking for something. I sometimes find myself walking around the house looking for something, and having to stop because I can’t remember what I was looking for.

So when A2’s throwing a fit and I have to give her a toothbrush and can’t find any of hers I give her Jack’s.

Jack: Where’s my toothbrush?

Me: I’m not sure…maybe in the car?

Right this moment Jack’s getting mad at me because he’s been talking to me and it seems I wasn’t listening. I was busy writing about his toothbrush.

It’s ok, he does this to me all the time. Just earlier, while he was watching the game:

Jack: Where are my glasses?

Me: In our bedroom, behind the curtain of the middle window. Hello? Are you listening?

Jack nods while frozen standing in front of the TV : ya ya

Me: I just told you where your glasses are, you didn’t listen and now I’m going downstairs.

Jack: Wait! Where you going? I asked you where my glasses were?!

Me: Why do you ask a question if you’re not going to listen to the answer?

Jack: Huh? Leave me alone, I’m watching the game!

While he squints at the screen because he can’t see properly without his glasses.

Yesterday while we were driving home from somewhere…I don’t remember where, I would have to check the camera to remember. I asked Jack:

“What’s the most important thing a girl that doesn’t know anything about hockey, should know?”

His reply was something like this:

“First thing’s first. Names, teams, numbers, dates don’t matter. All she needs to know is not to bother the guy during the game. No talking, no arguments and especially no turning off the TV during the game!”

I did that once, I turned the TV off while he was watching the game. Not only that, I pulled the plug off the digital cable box so that it can take time to reload…yes…evil…I know.

We were newlyweds then, I’ve learned a lot since then. I would never do that today. I’ve learned to leave him alone during the game, and I wait for intermissions to talk to him. Unless he asks me where his glasses are!!

I mostly blog while he watches the game, this way I don’t bother him. Then at the commercials he starts talking to me and gets mad if I’m not listening…

Ok games over. We won. Jack will be in a good mood tonight.

Yey for me!

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Bump in the Night (Scary things kids do at night)

3 A’s are all asleep, Jack is in the basement cursing at the hockey game. How emotionally involved do you have to be to actually stand out of your seat and yell at the TV screen?  I can’t imagine myself doing that.

I’m sitting in the family room in the dark and A3 is falling asleep next to me on the couch. I’m typing away, I look up, I see a shadow, and my heart skips a beat.

It’s A1, just standing there staring at me.

Me: What are you doing? You scared me!

A1: I can’t sleep, what are you doing? Blog? Move I want to watch.

Me: Move? What move? Go upstairs back to bed. Or else… Or else, I won’t let you wear your pink shoes with your Easter dress and you’ll have to wear your black shoes!

A1: No!!! Plz!

She’s finally asleep, after “but I’m thirsty”, “but I need to pee”, then “Oh I forgot I already went to pee”, “but this pyjama makes me sweat” and tonight we have a new one “But these socks are too tight!”

Lately she’s been pulling this “I can’t sleep” sneaking up business. She’s so damn quiet! She scares the living crap out of us every single time. I get scared very easily, my imagination has a life of its own. That’s why I don’t watch scary movies.

 One night, a couple of years ago, in the middle of the night we heard a loud noise coming from A1’s bedroom. It woke us up “What the hell is that noise?” we wondered and quickly went to check it out.

OMG! Jack’s yelling at the top of his lungs! He’s going wake the whole house! What the hell is happening in that hockey game? (Sorry that was a side note)swing

What was I saying? Oh yeah, we went to see what was happening.  The baby swing that was set up in her room was swinging by itself, in the dark, in the middle of the night. It was the scariest thing. It kept swinging and swinging, harder and harder making a lot of noise. We were speechless just staring into that dark room. We thought surely, this house is haunted. We quickly turned on the light!

We looked at A1’s bed, it was empty!

We look back at the moving swing and we see A1 behind it, pushing wildly with all her might and a little doll neatly secured into the swing seat. She kept going for a few more seconds then suddenly stopped and went back into her bed without saying a word.

 Kids can be so spooky sometimes!

P.S I did well today: 3 meals, some exercise, even a short session of meditation.

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Reactive or Proactive?

Why are articles on parenting so boring?  Why doesn’t anyone get to the point?  A2 has thrown a couple of  tantrums, the nasty kinds, down on the floor. Don’t judge me. A1 has always been such a civilized child I never thought I could have this little monster on my hands.

So I was reading an article on this in a parenting magazine. We do all of our reading in the bathroom, we have to maximize our efficiency if you know what I mean (if you’re going to be in the bathroom might as well learn something in the meantime). I read pages about children throwing tantrums, so much information… development phases, statistics, probable causes…Get to the point! What should I do if my child is on the floor, on her back, kicking her legs and banging her head?

Experts have a list of adequate interventions depending on the reason of your child’s outburst.

  • Related to lack of control (reactive)
  • Related to lack of means of expression (proactive)

So if you find yourself in this situation, say, in the middle of a grocery store, you should ask yourself : Reactive or Proactive?

Sounds so realistic, doesn’t it ?

And then out come the lists.

If it’s the reactive type, experts will  tell you :

  • Reassure your child
  • Give more specific directives
  • Situate them in time and space
  • Do not just tell them what’s forbidden, but what is permitted as well

Ok! so… (guessing it’s the reactive type) according to this list, this is what we should say:

“Honey, I love you, you’re safe, please stop jiggling on the floor, gently get up, be quiet, hold my hand, we are in the super market, it’s the after noon, it is not allowed for you to throw yourself on the floor but it is allowed to walk by mommy’s side”

Ya…I don’t think so…thank you Mr. and Mrs. experts. Thank you for nothing.

Sometimes I feel like those articles and even some books about parenting are written just to be written. As if it was one expert talking to another.

Hello! We’re here!

I could be considered  as one of those experts (well on paper anyways), I’ve read about all this stuff,  it definitely  doesn’t mean I know exactly what to do in every scenario. I don’t appreciate  fancy phrases and lists to dictate what a parent should do in a specific case as if it’s something  so obvious.

I have studied this stuff and have 3 kids of my own and this article doesn’t help me out one bit, how is it suppose to help anyone else?  I wonder if any of these experts have truly been in that situation or any of the situations they talk about for that matter.

Now I’m all worked up.

I’ll tell you, if you find yourself in that situation, first of all don’t think about what other people are thinking. Don’t be embarrassed, they don’t matter. Focus on yourself and your child, do what you would’ve done if you were home. I personally just stand still next to my child with my back turned to her.Ignoring her, while  staying close to ensure her safety. I give her time to get it out of her system, after about 10 to 20 seconds I gently tend to her. I hold my arms open for her (like asking for a hug), I repeat “it’s ok” I carry her and kiss her and tell her that it’s ok again.

I’m hardly ever angry at them, I’m mostly trying not to laugh in front of them when they’re doing something wrong.

Might be wrong, might be right but it works for me.

Never worry about what people are thinking. Focus on what’s important.

With that said, we went to the mall this past weekend. A2 had a baby leash and it was a great experience.

“It’s a child! Not a dog!”

Exactly, same way I wouldn’t want to lose my dog…I don’t want to lose my child!

leash

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A Real Hippopotamus

Finally, kids are asleep. That includes A3 who now at almost 4 months just started a semi-regular sleeping pattern.

What an evening it was ! Supper time was ultimate choas, A2 was covered in food by the end of it and we later found left overs in her diaper. A1 refused to eat, so out came the threats.

“You threaten your kids? Shame on you!”

I do whatever needs to be done. Threats, blackmail, we all do it, let’s not kid ourselves… “If you don’t eat I’ll tell the tooth fairy not to come see you in two years when you start losing your teeth”.

A1’s super excited about the tooth fairy business but she’s still only 4.

The other night, when I was lying in bed next to her as she requested, she was talking. I was so tired that I was slipping in and out of sleep. She was saying “Baby teeth don’t have roots, that’s why it doesn’t hurt when they fall” (is that even true?) When I woke up again she was saying “The eagle is the king of birds” and then I must have fallen asleep again. When I opened my eyes a few minutes later she was making shadows on the wall. Next thing I know i feel a little finger poking my face “Mommy, you’re sleeping ? But when am I going to see a REAL hippopotamus?”

Tonight A1 went up to bed by herself and this  is a big deal is this house. Jack and I can stop arguing over who’s turn it is to do it. We do it in code obviously.

“Ok time for bed, daddy’s going to take you up tonight !”

Daddy: But mommy! You should go, you tell such great stories !
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Me: Yes, but Daddy’s going to scratch your back!

Daddy:  Honey, who do you want to go up with you?

We all know the answer to that one… it never fails.

Mommy!

Ah! we’re going to regret this when they become teenagers and don’t want to have anything to do with us.

Parenting is a constant guilt trip.

Another big achievement in our house, A2 now picks us dirty rolled diapers and puts them in the trash. Then gives herself a round of applause.

With A3 sleeping a little better, A1 going to bed by herself and A2 picking up diapers, alot is changing around here. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Then again, perhaps I don’t want to see the light, I don’t want this tunnel to end…

All this house playing business can get overwhelming but my overall attitude is to stay calm and truly enjoy it. They say “It passes fast, enjoy them”… and boy are they right.

Ah…I  miss them already, I’m going to go watch them sleep now.

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Not Clean Per Se, Not Dirty Per Se

It’s past midnight. Everyone’s asleep…but me, of course. Why am I not sleeping? Because I’m on duty. Any minute now A3 is going to wake up and my free time is going to be over. What do I do with my time? BLOG

But not these past two weeks. Whenever I’ve had free time, I’ve been working on organizing a Fundraiser. Since I don’t have much free time, I haven’t had any time to blog. Don’t feel bad. Today I picked blogging over showering!

Actually, I take that back. I couldn’t have showered. (Could not have. I want to say couldn’t’ve…how to I write that? ) Basically, showering is not even a possibility right now, remember, A3 could wake up at any time. I can even hear her a bit.

I don’t like to use monitors; I like to hear what’s happening in the house. I like to be able to stop typing for a second and listen in. Stop.

Right now I hear A3’s breath, her respiration frequency is changing, she’s breathing faster. It means she’s waking up. I can hear Jack snoring and the rest are quiet, that’s a good sign. I can hear A3’s breath not because I’m super human, but because she’s 6 meters away. She’s in the den and I’m the living room.

Now someone who can imagine measurements might be thinking: What kind of den is only 6 meters away from a living room??

Well. The thing is. Our house doesn’t even have a den. It has a kitchen, a dining room and a living room. No Den. But I made one. I can’t even hit a nail in the wall but I turned the dining room into a family den.

Want to know how?  I put a couch and a TV in the “dining room”. Then, furnished half  the “living room”, as a dining room and the other half, as “clean” living room .

Not clean per se, but definitely cleaner then the Den.  You should see it….actually, you shouldn’t see it! Plastic on the furniture? Yeah, at this point, I should, to protect the people sitting on them.

They’re not dirty per se, it’s just that they’ve been through a lot. They’ve had three kids! Three kids dropping their water, their milk… try cleaning milk off a couch. Ok, you clean the couch’s surface. Then what? That milk has made it into the fibers of the couch , embedded like…you know what I’m thinking.

A1’s poop on A’3 onesie!  (Guys! Another inside joke!!  That’s the  second time this week!)

If Jack read this he would think I’m a total geek. I can already hear him in my head  “What inside joke?! You can’t have an inside joke with yourself!”  Lol (By the way, when I write “lol” it really means that I laughed out loud, like HaHaHa. More like Mhi,Mhi,Mhi. if I went HaHaHa A3 would wake up.)

The only person on a monitor right now is A2. To the readers who don’t know baby talk, a baby monitor is … I don’t know how to explain it.

So I googled the definition for “baby monitor” and guess what. It doesn’t exist!! Try it.

How would you explain to someone what a baby monitor is?

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Wake up and smell the …


Today I decided to get some cleaning done. Well it’s not only a matter of deciding, in order to do that two of my friends had to come over and help take care of A3 so that I could get started. I knew there wasn’t much time before A1 and 2 came back home from school and daycare.

First thing I did was take the time to smell the rooms out looking for rolled up dirty diapers or lost half full milk bottles.  Most times, while changing a diaper we’re doing something else at the same time, maybe mediating a dispute between the kids or trying to stop one of them from going up the stairs, down the stairs, in the cupboard, behind the curtains… When that diaper is changed, we quickly roll up the dirty one into a ball and throw it in or near the closest garbage can. Later we collect them and throw them away. On some occasions one gets lost or misplaced by the kids. A2 thinks a rolled up diaper is a ball meant to be played with. Can we blame her?diaper

One time, one found its way in the dirty laundry basket and ended up in the wash with the clothes. I found it when I was emptying the clothes out of the washer into the dryer. I found a swollen diaper. I could only hope it was a #1 filled diaper if you know what I mean…

Some end up rolling under the couch or under one of the beds. Many things end up rolling under there… mainly half full milk bottles. By the time we find them, the milk has turned into cheese. Washing those bottles is the worst part; the smell is so horrible that I sometimes give up after a few gags and just throw the bottle away.

Don’t judge me! We’re not dirty people, we’re just outnumbered! Back when we only had A1 we had time for so much more, we would do so many activities. A1 had been everywhere by the age of 1.

A2 hasn’t seen anything. Poor thing got sick a couple of weeks ago so we took her to the clinic and then the pharmacy for her antibiotics. When we walked into the pharmacy she was ecstatic! I don’t think she had ever been in a store before… High ceilings, lights and her favorite, creme bottles! Creme bottles everywhere! She gathered up as many bottles as she could, grabbed them in a bunch and started running in the isles. I just let her be and live a little. She was so happy.

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