Long time no see, Pardner!!
My wheels have been turning in the back of my mind this summer about other projects--to be continued. So any time that I have to write has been seriously occupied on my new project. Hopefully it will come to fruition soon.
In the mean time, here's a summer update on our family!
Andrei: He's fully potty trained. Seriously, FULLY POTTY TRAINED. He hasn't had an accident all summer--day or night. If a 3 year old could be my hero, he'd be it. He's awesome. The only thing he can't do is wipe, but he yells, "Come and wipe me!!!"when he's finished. I hold my breath and wipe his hiney. Some times I have to have him flush before I get there. It's pretty ferocious what can come out of that little body some times. Anyway..... we're on to stop sucking our thumb. Annsley was a thumb sucker, and this little bottle of stuff worked miracles. She was finished with her thumb in less than a week. It literally makes him (or my husband when he gets it in his mouth) salivate and spit if his thumb touches his mouth. It is truly nasty stuff. It's made in Switzerland; it couldn't be made in the USA because the FTC wouldn't have allowed it to be manufactured here due to its horrid palatability. It only has to be applied every two days, but Andrei was a super sucker, so we had to apply it before naps and at bedtime. We've been at it for 2 weeks, and he hasn't been using his thumb (so he says...)
Next up will be transitioning to a toddler bed. (Yes, for you acute readers, that means he's three and half and still in his crib.) He doesn't try to climb out. It makes my job a bit easier, but now I'm feeling guilty about him being so old and still held up in baby jail, so when the girls start back to school, we'll pull that plug on all things baby around here.
No more crib, no more changing table, no more diapers, no more board books. I am not sad. Baby stuff is in my past. I've pondered whether I should feel guilty about not feeling guilty, but I have crushed that thought. I must be getting old. Excuse me, OLDER. Any desire to have another young'n in the house has evaporated. Vanquished. Doug brings up adoption again every so often, but I squelch that conversation.
Nada Dear. Go take your pretty little brain and think about something else. The thought of adding another to my nest makes me shudder. Three is plenty for me. I don't have the personality to have any more. Some wonderful people out there do; I'm not one of them. And anyway, we're going to qualify for our AARP card when Andrei is in high school!!! Ah, we'll be so cheap going to the movies. Two seniors, one child. GAG!
Kennedi and Annsley: They have turned 7 and 9 respectively this summer. They had a co-birthday party one evening at the city swimming pool. BEST BIRTHDAY PARTY EVER! We killed two birds in one two hour period of time . All the kids had a great time, and more importantly, Mom spent little time planning for it. Bonus all the way around.
They both played softball and/or T-Ball. Annsley's team was undefeated. Kennedi's T-Ball team was a riot. It was like watching a bunch of coaches herd wild cats. Everyone was a winner. Everyone got to get on base. Everyone needed a helmet because even though a kid was throwing the ball to first base, it might end up heading straight for the second baseman. Thank the Lord there was a time limit.
The girls get along well sometimes. Sometimes they have some knock down drag out fights--literally. And sometimes there seems to be peace in making bad decisions when you are with your sister. Take three weeks ago...
I incorrectly assume that because my three children are so quiet, they must be reading together or playing dolls. I'm excited because the house is quiet, and I'm making din-din without any interruption. I hear Andrei yell out his "Come wipe me!" and I head to the bathroom. I meet Annsey on her way to the bathroom. "Can you please turn on the water for me?" she asks as she hold her hands oozing with sticky white stuff.
It is Elmer's glue. She and her sister have decided to pour out the bottle of glue on top of Kennedi's table, use their fingers to smear it all over the top, and are fixing to apply paper doilies to the top of her table for decoration.
I'll admit. I didn't handle it very well. That nasty little Mother of the Year Medal was snatched out o my hands again. Consequently, I noticed bright orange paint on Kennedi's carpet. Turns out it is finger nail polish. Earlier in the day I caught Annsley painting (yet again) at her desk in her room--no drop cloth, no art smock, nothing. Both girls know that paints (of any kind) are not to be opened in bedrooms.
I had had it. The Joan Crawford in me came out that afternoon. Every single marker, paint brush, glue, scissors, arts and crafts box, stamp, you name it--if it could be googled and found under arts and crafts, I loaded it up and it was all sequestered in my bedroom. I felt like screaming, "NO MORE WIRE HANGERS!!" aka NO MORE ARTS AND CRAFTS! ( OK, I probably DID scream it...) I locked the closet door that houses paper, glue, stamps, etc (a Hobby Lobby's crafter's dream come true) by tying a string to the doorknob and winding it around a nail. Ingenious I know. "Trust me, Young Ladies, you do not want to find out what happens should someone try to get into this door," I hissed with gritted teeth.
They knew I was serious. With Kennedi's grandparent birthday party, she got a lot of arts and crafts stuff. Annsley did too because our grandparents can't buy just for one child. Neither child said anything. They knew that stuff would be going to the time out pile in my room as well. Without a word, both girls loaded up their "scores" and added them to the buckets and boxes in my room.
I found it amazing as I was quizzing them on the fallacy of their thinking. Kennedi blamed Annsley. She said it was her idea. Annsley blamed Kennedi. Why? Because Kennedi let her in her room. Jeez Louis! Andrei just looked at me and whined, "I didn't do it!!!!!!"
It reminded me of the time Annsley got a hold of the Vaseline when she was 18 months old. The picture says enough.
Knock Knock!
