Three Days -- Three Showings

How can you not melt in the presence of this face?
Yet, as moms, we all have our days. Today AiAi cleared all 4 shelves of kids books and threw them in the floor, poked holes in the rising bread, cleared toys off the toy shelves onto the floor, and piled every piece of doll house furniture into a heap of rubble. He also annoyed his brother (who was already having an irritable day) by incessantly by poking him, pointing his toe in his direction (a gesture of kicking apparently), and following him too closely on his tricycle causing him to crash his two-wheeler over and over.

It was a day of many conversations that went something like, "Even though it is wrong to poke someone incessantly, it is also wrong to scream right in someone's face." It was a day when AiAi desperately needed a nap, but fell asleep for five minutes right before I had to wake him up to go pick up Soph, and then refused to go back to sleep even after sitting in his room for over an hour.
In reference to my title -- we have shown our house every day for the past three days. Kind of nice after a month of zero activity. Monday, we cleaned the house spic and span and headed over to the church parking lot to ride bikes. It worked beautifully. On Tuesday, E-Man had a mishap when he accidentally dropped an unopened can of rootbeer on the kitchen tile. It exploded out the top and spun around like a possessed object, spraying soda everywhere. Marvelous. I had to wipe down the entire kitchen, and, after two moppings, the floor was still sticky. At 4:30, I was just starting dinner and had to have Soph to her school by 5:15 to get ready for her spring musical (at 6 p.m.). The phone call came -- another showing. Frantically, I cooked and served dinner, bathed E-Man, curled Soph's hair, and did a 3rd thorough mopping. We were a half an hour late and I was mortified when I had to leave the dinner dishes in the sink. The rest of the house looked awesome, but I realized that even if it only took a few minutes to wash, I would still have to dry, put away, plus scour the sink. Instead I just tried to arrange them to cover the dirty sink, is that weird?

I came home from the play and realized that the floor was STILL sticky! After three moppings. Great, I showed my house with dirty dishes AND a sticky floor.

I figured it would be a breeze to pull the house together Wednesday morning after keeping it so clean on Monday and Tuesday. As I (again) mopped floors, AiAi walked around putting hand prints on all the glass. As I made beds and tidied the upstairs, he went downstairs and pulled two gigantic bins out of storage (bigger and no doubt heavier than he is). One was full of three complete GeoTrax train sets, which he dumped. The other (a far worse mess) was chock full of thousands of semi organized photographs. He opened the box and strew the entire contents throughout the basement! Fortunately, our appointment was more than a half hour late while I cleaned it all up.

If you have or have had a child like this, I wrote this to help you feel better.
As a side note, our last day of school was today. Hooray for summer vacation! And, we are headed up to Bear Lake for a whole week. I can't wait!

On Turning 32

Last month, I turned 32. Being 32 is much easier than turning 30. I spent my whole 29th year worrying about the big 3-0. I'm figuring out the thirties aren't so bad.

When I hit three decades, a lot of things in life started to make more sense. I've come to understand that in my teens and early twenties, life came easy to me. Being thin, making friends, achieving good grades, world travel, going to college, opportunities galore . . .

I believe this is one reason why, when the grown-up world started to settle in, sometime in the mid-twenties -- long work hours, bills, cellulite, wrinkles, headaches, etc. -- I became very whiny complaining annoying, myopic and lacking in gratitude.

The sad part about growing up and gaining just a smidgen of maturity (I can only imagine how different the world will look at 40, 50, 80 . . .) is realizing how much I took for granted before. When I was young and thin, living a carefree charmed life, I spent a lot of time stressing out about the little things. Now, I think, "Seriously, what could have been so stressful back then?" My present life has 100x more stress, but I'm less stressed out. I'm finally starting to realize what the 'big' things are, and exercising gratitude for the small trials in my life by comparison.

Laughably, I remember one time when Soph and E-Man were two-years-old and a baby. It was a Friday night and Photoguy was working late. I hauled the kids down to Wal-Mart and I was walking around thinking, "Wal-Mart!? I never in a million years would have envisioned myself alone with two kids at a Wal-Mart on a Friday night." Because, Friday nights are for going out on glamorous dates, right? Then, when I was waiting in the check-out line, I looked over and saw a guy I'd known in high school waiting a few lines over. He was really popular back in the day, yet, here he was, alone, at Wal-Mart buying diapers. "So this is what our lives have come to," I lamented.

I would never think that way now. Maybe it's sad to admit, but going to Wal-Mart on a Friday night wouldn't even phase me. And, I would rather look at a scenario like that and be grateful for my kids (even if I have to haul them to the store on a Friday night -- I took so much of Soph and E-man's babyhoods for granted), grateful for a husband who is out working hard to provide for our family so I can live in the lap of luxury (aka stay-at-home-mom -- I spent too many years complaining about the struggles), grateful for the money to go shopping and grateful for the many highly convenient shopping facilities . . . the car that got me there . . . well, you get the picture.

It's nice to get past all the fanciful fairy tales of youth and start to really enjoy life instead of being disappointed that it's not like Hollywood. Now . . . if I could just have the body back -- the one where I could eat whatever I wanted whenever I wanted and never gain one ounce -- I cross-my-heart-promise to never take it for granted again!

Happy Memorial Day!

It's been raining for the past five days straight. And, today, Memorial Day, we woke up to more soggy weather. We had planned to hike up to Waterfall Canyon as a family, but that plan will have to be put on hold until the trails dry up a bit. It's been a very cold spring. Here is a storm we had in early May -- Still getting snow!
Strangely, I've appreciated this spring more than any other. After such a hard winter, I've noticed the little green buds, wafts of sweet smelling spring blooms and the spring thaw more than ever before. And, being such a cold spring, I appreciated the warm days a little bit extra. Here are some pics of a warm day in early April when we visited the playground.

Look how grown-up Soph is doing the monkey bars by herself now!

Check out her cute nails. Mom and daughter days at the nail salon are the best.

Antibiotic Awareness

Warning: If you are averse to seeing skin conditions and rashes, do not scroll down.

A couple of months ago, I posted about our whole family coming down with Strep Throat. After a week of antibiotic treatment, I noticed that Soph had bright red cheeks. After his nap, so did AiAi. Is this 5th's Disease? I wondered. Soph developed a mild rash on her forearms and thighs while AiAi broke out in a most alarming rash all over his entire body! I took him to his pediatrician who said it was either a virus or a reaction to the Amoxicillin. Just to be safe, we took him (and Soph) off the antibiotics (they were near the end anyways).

What the Dr. forgot to tell me was that if it was an allergic reaction, it was going to get lots worse before it got better. I awoke the next day to find AiAi's red spots had morphed into a near continuous red blotch covering HIS ENTIRE BODY -- backs of hands, tops of feet, scalp -- everywhere! This photo doesn't even really do it justice.
I also took a photo of him without his clothes, but, didn't want to be too gory here on my blog. On a scale of 1-10, I was about an 8 in terms of freaking out. I nearly rushed him to the E.R. during the two hours when my Pediatrician's office did not return my phone call. In the end, a super caring dermatologist asked me to rush him right in, and after two dermatologists looked him over, the diagnosis was -- serum-sickness. Or, a reaction to the seemingly harmless "bubblegum" medicine of our childhoods. Apparently, this was a "mild" reaction in the world of life-threatening allergic reactions to medicines. His solution? To write me another prescription. Forgive me if I didn't run straight to the pharmacy.

E-Man Lost a Tooth!

E-Man lost his first tooth yesterday in the wee hours of the morning. He had barely shown me that it was loose the day before. Then, while we were all sleeping, he quietly awoke, pulled out the tooth, and patiently placed it under his pillow. Unfortunately, the tooth fairy had already made her rounds that night, so he tried again last night and got $2!

I can't believe he's already lost a tooth! Not even in Kindergarten yet. I'll have to say, this was much easier and less dramatic than The Tooth that Had to Go.

I am Convinced: He Can Do Anything

A HUGE, tremendous THANK YOU to Photoguy for devoting the past several days of his time and dedicated brawn to fencing in our backyard!

Our backyard was mostly fenced, and this worked fine for our first two children who understood boundaries and tended not to slip out the backdoor unnoticed and then run directly to the front yard and into the street. AiAi convinced us that the time had come to put better locks on the doors and fence in the two small escape routes where the backyard meets the house.

Photoguy worked really hard, digging post holes, even busting through cement, pouring concrete, and smashing his fingers repeatedly as he wrestled with the fencing. I am convinced that he can do anything.

As for AiAi, he first walked casually through the new gate over and over, until we locked it shut. He then found a way to push our neighbor's flimsy fence aside to increase a one inch gap to just wide enough to squeeze through. Some wires solved that problem. Finally, before the day was through, he was already climbing to the top of the fence! He has yet to go all the way over. At least maybe it will slow him down?

The Potty Train

When my oldest, Soph, turned one, I wrapped up one of those little plastic potties and a potty book for her to tear open and be amazed. We read, and re-read the potty book one-million times. And, though I was careful not to push anything too early, the potty sat there waiting to be used when she was ready. At the tender age of one, my daughter could put a tinkle in her potty on the way to the tub. Good times, good times. Good, ignorance-is-bliss times.

One of my friends potty-trained her daughter at eighteen-months and gave me the following advice, "You just have to put the underwear on her and deal with the messes for about three days. Then, she will finally get what is going on and start using the potty." Three days? Really.

Well, to any of you who have had that kind of an experience with potty training -- good for you. You can stop reading this post now. And, please, please, don't leave me a comment to gloat about your superior knowledge on getting kids to use the potty. You are just lucky, alright!?

We tried the 'three days' thing. And, at the end, she was still showing absolutely no signs of recognition when she went potty. She went right along playing as if nothing at all had happened. She didn't even acknowledge the warm ooze in the very moment it was running down her legs. The puddle on the floor did not phase her.

So, we waited a few more months. And, tried again. And, again. And, again. We read the book. We potty trained the dolly.

And, one day in particular, I remember devoting the entire day to letting Soph run around in nothing but a T-Shirt while we did all kinds of fun projects in the kitchen (over tiled floors), drank lots of fluids, and sat on the potty every 20-minutes when the timer went off. The day was full of treats, and fun, and slippery tile, but, alas, not success.

I gave ear to all of the tried and true wisdom and settled with, "She'll do it when she is ready."

That was all fine and good until she reached about 3 1/2 and I was tired of buying and changing diapers for TWO kids for a whole year-and-a-half. I was tired of waiting for her to be ready, so, I mandated that it was time.

We finally stopped having weekly if not daily accidents near her 4th birthday. Whew! That was a long haul from giving her the potty at one to finally stopping mopping up pee and rinsing out poopy undies at 4!

Needless to say, I was not excited to begin the whole procedure with the E-Man.

"Boys are harder," everyone told me. "He'll regress when the baby comes," they warned. AiAi would be born when E-Man was 2 years 9 months old. "Why even bother until after the baby comes?" I reasoned.

At 2 1/2 years, E-Man practically potty-trained himself. And, no, he did not regress. It was awesome! So, see this is how I know for a fact that I'm not completely flawed in this one arena of child training. Those of you who have easy to potty-train kids are L-U-C-K-Y.

Now, comes AiAi. He'll be 3 at the end of the summer, so I've had to work my way out of denial and admit that potty training is on the horizon. He hasn't been showing me any signs. And, by that I mean, he hasn't woken up in the morning, put on underwear, and started using the toilet. That's the kind of signs I'm looking for at this point. I was feeling pretty O.K. with my decision to let him stay in diapers until college if necessary, until it occurred to me that I've signed him up for pre-school in the fall, and potty-training is required. Shoot! What was I thinking? Given my track record (with Soph at least), I figured it was best to get started.

We've been doing the underwear thing for three days now, and guess what? Absolutely, positively no recognition or identification on his part when he goes. And, he's not tempted by my bribes of treats to sit on the potty either. Not interested. Not at all. Even the plastic toy, bubble-blowing lawn mower waiting in the box will not sway him.

Yet, I am determined to move forward. I'm going to keep on keeping on with the underwear. We'll see how long I last. Is it acceptable to let him run around in the backyard naked until the end of summer?