Things I've realized... St. Poopicus Returns!

Apparently, when you have a 45-minute FB conversation with the illustrious Mr. Daddy, you realize just how much time has passed since you really blogged about life.  To rectify the situation (pun intended), I've decided to grace you all with our latest poop-related adventure.  Aren't you all lucky?


Don't answer that.


I was downstairs a few weeks ago, sewing Christmas presents like a mad woman.  I had a thought that went something like this, "Self, you've haven't seen Toby cat in a few days." Toby cat is our giant, fluffy, grumpy old man cat.  He hangs out in the basement most of the time, hissing at the dog and making a pest of himself during school time.

I found Captain Grumpy Pants in his usual spot, curled up on my fabric bins in the closet.  I thought he seemed a little under the weather, so I brought some food and water from upstairs and tried to get him to eat.  That was not acceptable to Toby, so he headed back to his spot...


...dripping blood and puss from his behind the entire way.


Reason #625374882 I'm grateful for my new basement flooring.


The next 45 minutes were a blur of panicked phone calls to Super Realtor Man, my mother, and the vet.  I got all kids up from naps, dressed, out the door in under 5 minutes.  I had no idea what was going on, but I knew enough to know that BLOOD AND PUSS SHOULD NOT COME OUT OF A CAT'S RUMP!!!!!!


Did you know cats have two anal glands, one on either side of their butthole?  And that those glands are what give kitty poo its distinct smell?  And that those glands can get chunks of poo in them?  And that poo will cause said glands to get infected?  And that if the infection isn't caught right away, the glands can rupture, causing a giant mess and an even bigger infection?


Can you guess who now knows all this exciting information?


Can you guess who got to give a cat 3 different prescription medications over the course of 2 weeks?


Can you guess who got to take said cat back into the vet so his behind could get rechecked for any lingering infection?


Have you ever seen a cat's face when someone is shoving their finger up their rootie-poo?


I'll leave you with that mental image.

Wordless Wednesday

Ninja assassin training or extra-long nap time gone horribly wrong. You be the judge.

Things I Never Thought I Would Say...

... we don't sing songs about our private parts.

... please don't pick your sisters nose.

... please don't chew on the letter u.

... We do not moon the check out line.

... Why am I washing poop off this rock?

True Story Tuesday: Playing Hotel

I was the manager.

They were the maids.

I wonder how long I can keep this up?

Go see Rachel & Mr Daddy for more TST fun!

You Know You're A Momma When...

... you have to pack up 6 naked barbies, 9 plastic sharks, three strands of beads, and a ducky washcloth just to take a bath in your own bathtub.


...  you get to work and have someone's dried snot on your shirt.  And you're not sure whose it is.


...  you consider it a successful day when you make it through without food thrown in your general direction.


... the most important aspect of a new hairstyle is if it is "have to jump out of the shower mid-shampoo because someone has peed/pooped/puked/bled all over something expensive" flexible.


... a normal evening at home includes removing both kool-aid and bodily fluids from the carpet.

Letters of Intent: The Do

To My Darling Middle Daughter:

Did you really think I would not notice this?

Or this?

Yes, I took a picture of my trash can.  I could not believe the sheer amount of hair.

And if I missed those, did you really think I wouldn't see your interesting new hairstyle?

read: self-inflicted pre-schooler mullet

Mommy wasn't born yesterday.  The scissors did not magically jump out of the drawer and mercilessly attack your head. 

And, as adorable as your new haircut is

And as much as it totally matches your spit-fire personality,

You are not a hairdresser. 

Not even close.

Love,

Needs a new scissor hiding place

Have something you need to get off your chest?  Go see Julie for more Letters of Intent!

Only My Children: Name that Kid Edition

Can you name the kid that...

• decided she was eating bugs for dinner tonight, and then proceeded to melt into a snotty mess of tears when she found out that was not happening?

• informed us that she was going to grow antlers out of the top of her head, and then spent the next 5 minutes listing everyone in her life that was going to laugh at her if she did, in fact, grow antlers out of her head?

• told Daddy that she was going to eat him, because he was a peanut butter sandwich?

Only my children...

In Case You Have Not Thrown Up Lately....

We *ahem* proudly present the lastest work from the famous director, Katrina. 

I am so proud.

True Story Tuesday: The Continuing Chronicles of Saint Poopicus

Oh, I wish I could make these things up.  Remember when the girls and I made candy?


Someone mentioned in her comment that I conveniently neglected to mention a key part of the story.


And referenced a certain F*cebook status from that day:

And, of course, my husband couldn't leave well enough alone.



Which caused the explosion of my profile page. 

 

And, of course, I couldn't just let the conversation die.

But, really?  What else can you say when you turn around and see your 4 year old with a spoon down her pants?


The spoon that was just in her mouth.

Self Portraits By Madison

Alternately Titled:  When You Give a Preschooler a Camera...

I am so proud...

Only My Children: The Violetisms

Out of the mouth of a very silly 3 year old:

• When I grow up, I gonna be a butterfly.
• I'm not a big girl.  I'm a little girl and I'm dirty and I need a bath!
• I only eat 5 more bites.
• Someday, I'm gonna put on my tail and swim in the water like Ariel and go see Prince Eric.
• I'm squishy pants.
• I'm a soccer team!
• As told to Madi: "I'm not a child, I'm a kid!"

She is either pestering her sisters or keeping us rolling with laughter.  She's an adventurous one, that chic!

True Story Tuesday: The Poop Chronicles Continue

Please don't tell me I am the only one with those "Seriously?  This could only happen to us!" kind of stories.  You know you have them.  Write one up, and go link it to Rachel & Mr. Daddy.  Don't make me feel bad.  And, in case you have missed our other adventures in bodily functions, feel free to go here and catch up.  But be warned.  I will not be held responsible for throw up on your computer.









This week's TST post is courtesy of our very own Violet, and the weekend marathon road trip.


Friday we drove literally all the way across the state to go visit Jerome's brother & his sweet family.  The kids did really well, considering we had a 7 year old, a 4 year old, and an almost 3 year old in the car for 9 1/2 hours, and bladders the size of marbles.


We were about an hour from their house, cruising along the interstate, when Madi exclaimed that she needed to pee.  Now, with Kat, we have some time.  Madi?  We go to Defcom 3 and make a mad dash for the nearest restroom or bush, whichever is closer.  And that is when I saw the sign from Heaven.

Image Courtesy Google Images

Since it had been a long day, and since it is very NOT FAIR that Daddy gets to go potty all by himself now, he lovingly offered to buy me caffeinated goodness whilst I wrangled the girlie buns in the restroom.


Madi & Kat did their business, and I set about to change Violet's pull-up.  Yes, she is potty training.  And has been.  And for some reason developed a fear of any toilet without her "squishy seat".  Fun times.


I do not enjoy pull-ups.  But, we deal.  And I really hate putting my child's skin against a public bathroom floor, so I thought we could get away with a standing change.  So, we got her shoes & pants off, and started to take off her pull up. 


She lost her balance and sat down.  As she stood up, I noticed a tiny poop streak in the pull-up.  No biggie, I thought - we just need to sit on the potty of doom for a minute to get the poop out. 


And that's when I realized she was trying to go Star Trek.


You know, Klingons?  On Uranus?


And there was a pile of poop on the S*arbucks bathroom floor.  Apparently the entire Klingon empire decided to wage war against me.


I love my children.


Madi screamed because the super-power-suck-your-butt-down-the-drain-flusher scared her.  Violet cried because I made her sit on the potty of doom to get the rest of the poop out.  Katrina cried because she was tired and just wanted to be at Uncle Adam's house.  I wanted to cry because I succeeded in smearing my child's poop on my pants while trying to clean the poop off the floor.


I was amazed CPS wasn't at the door when I opened it. 


I gave Jerome the "you are so dead even though this isn't your fault" glare as we herded the minions to the car.  We vowed to NEVER return to that St*rbucks.


But, really, Kat put it best.  She said, "Daddy, you owe Mommy SO much coffee for that one!"

Monday Mugs: Oh! The Things They Get In To!

If you have spent any time around our chaos, you know today's theme is right up our alley!  Because getting into trouble is a specialty here!



Our backyard has become a place for our children to explore and just be kids.  To be able to test themselves physically

Expand their imaginations

Pretty sure she is a dinosaur.  Or a tiger.  Not sure which.

See the world from a new perspective.

And occasionally get high-centered on a swing.

Yes, you read that right.  She got high-centered, just like a jeep.  And got stuck.

And, like any good blogging mom, I ran for the camera before freeing her from her instrument of torture.

And then she went right back to it.

Only my children.

Only My Children ... Sports Edition

Because only my children ...


... walk around with an issue of Sp*rts Illustr*ted for a week like it's a security blanket.


... can correctly identify Brett Favre on the cover of above-mentioned magazine.


... proudly proclaim "The Raiders are stinky cheese!" every time they see our youth pastor's daughter, an avid Raiders fan.


... ask, "When is football season over? I want to watch baseball!"


... can correctly identify the Rockies, Avalance, Nuggets, and Broncos logos.


... have chosen their favorite teams at the ages of 6, 3, and 2.


... pick the Rockies beanie over the princess beanie.


... cry when it's Sunday and the Broncos outfit is dirty, so we can't wear it to church.


... are positively giddy because the Olympics are coming soon!


... can sit through an entire 2 1/2 hour baseball game at the stadium, and be mesmerized by the experience.


... choose ESPN for bathroom reading.


... will sit with Daddy and watch ESPN. For longer than 2 minutes.


... love looking at baseball/football/hockey/basketball cards.


... will tell me, "That man is wearing a Raiders/Lakers/Yankees/etc. logo. We don't like that team". Makes going out in public very interesting...


... fight over who gets to wear Daddy's baseball hats.


... ask if they get to watch basketball when Katie, the Duke-crazy babysitter, comes over.


... can sleep through playoff football/baseball/hockey/basketball games in our home.


Like I said, only my kids...