An' a fake beard plastered on her brow

Alright fans (ehhem, mom) A quick update...

Eli is potty trained. Sing it with me.. Poo-poo in the potty, poo-poo in the potty, poo-poo in the potty woooo-hoooo (hold your hands above your head at the end).. This song is a great way to encourage the kiddos. And, alas, we may never have to use it again. We have entered the ever so elegant phase of parenting wherein we find ourselves in inappropriate gas station and fast food joint pooping episodes that extend for 15 minutes that feel like hours of disgust and nagging. (what does that say? DON'T TOUCH THAT!)

I have been changing diapers for 5 years...Whew.

While on the subject of poop, let me tell you about a shitty morning last weekend. It all started with everyone piled in our bed on Sunday morning last. I smelled poop and of course put the pillow on my head hoping someone else would take care of it. Of course, they didn't so I drug myself out of bed to help Eli out of his predicament. It being a cloth diaper, I put in on top of the washing a machine because as I passed through the kitchen, I noticed that the cat had decided to poop in a plant over night. We couldn't start brewing coffee or making pancakes until all poop had been cleared from the kitchen. So, I did that. As I returned to deal with poopy diaper, I found the dog had jumped up onto the washing machine and was having himself a tasty morning snack, all of which was now in his beard. The children quickly named him Sir Poop Beard. So out the dog went until coffee was made and diaper was cleaned. I then had to bathe the dog and comb out his poop. Motherhood is so very glamorous.


On a personal note, I am slacking at updating because I am being artsy, thinking about writing a book, and in general finding the computer a chore...(Maybe Spring Fever)

Stay in m' kitchen, have m' own picnic. . .In the bathroom

OH Yeah, I'm a big boy!

This is the face of a proud pooper! One big loaf in the potty! After 4 + years of changing diapers, I am so ready for this. Here's hoping he does this quick! Go Eli..

Potty talk

What's a mom blog, without some mention of BM's?

Have you ever been traveling and been appalled at gas station bathrooms? As frequent road warriors, it is something we often face. A few observations: Why do preschoolers always HAVE to poop when the only thing within miles is a rank and dusty truck stop? Ollie likes to take his time in these places. Despite my constant nagging, he puts his hands everywhere on the potty and seems to successfully contaminate his entire body. If your booty is small, you have to use your hands to balance, you see. I, myself, prefer the hover, but I cannot hold a three-year-old up for eternity. We have used a potty seat, but that just means that a common house hold tool also has been in the pit, so to speak. He also comments on everything in the bathroom from the writing on the wall to inquiries about every sound coming from the adjacent stall. I have had to sing in a public restroom before to help him along. On our last trip, we stopped for the 14th time at a gas station that fits the previous description, and after about 10 straight minutes of discussing the grey, wet tiles, I lifted his cheek to find a clean bowl. He was stalling or pretending to have to go the entire time! Maybe he really did have to go, but froze up faced with such ambiance. At any rate, I was faced with the reality that we would probably have to stop again at another equally glamorous venue within the next hour so that he could take care of business. Ugh!! Not to be too graphic, but whenever I go, it seems my face is directly in a trash can, fake plant that is being used as an ash tray (um, gross to those of you who are so relaxed as to have a cig while on that gas station potty), or if it happens to be a port-a-potty, in a urinal. So as you can imagine, I prefer to hold number 2 until we reach a more suitable location, but I am suspicious that the younger member of our family actually is intrigued by the novelty of it all.