Thursday, July 30, 2009

The Phantom Pooper Strikes Again!

Actually, the Pooping Extrovert, AKA Kaylee was at it again today. We went over to a friend's house for breakfast before work today (she was leaving town today) and had a delightful spread of sourdough pancakes, fresh fruit, coffee, sausage and eggs. De-lish!

Before we left I gave the kids their morning "coffee" of milk, cream and a teaspoon of java. Apparently the coffee worked fast on Kaylee. As we were leaving I used their facilities and guess what I found? Two little terds in the toilet, waiting to be flushed. That girl!!!!

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

The Pooping Extrovert

Have you ever known people who are afraid of pooping anywhere else but their own toilet? My husband calls it the "shy pooper", and apparently he is well acquainted with this phenomenon. Me, I have never had that problem, when ya gotta go, ya gotta go.

Apparently, Kaylee has inherited my complete and total comfort in pooping whenever is necessary and in whatever hole is available. In fact, I think she takes it one step further: she'd RATHER poop in someone else's toilet than her own. Introvert, she is not.

For example, our dear neighbors were building their house for about six months, and placed a Honey Bucket (no clue where that name came from, if you get within 10 feet of them they definitely DO NOT smell anything like honey) porta potty on their property, for the convenience of their subcontractors, and apparently for my beautiful daughter who "made a deposit" in it every night we went to visit them.

I figured it was just a novelty that would eventually wear off, but I was wrong. In fact, when they finally had working indoor plumbing and the "Smells like old, rotten shit bucket" was removed from the premises, little miss poopy pants was visibly upset.

I had warned my neighbor about how Kaylee likes to poop in other people's homes and how frequently she visited the outdoor facilities and hinted that she would probably want to christen their new toilet eventually. We weren't even there 5 minutes when she looked at me, wide eyed and in a VERY strained little voice said "Mom, I need to go potty." I knew it.

I went and checked on the poor unsuspecting throne and sure enough: streak marks. I had to 'fess up to the neighbor, who thankfully has a great sense of humor. And I do apologize that poop has been included in several of my posts recently, but it does make for some good stories.

I don't have enough fingers to count the number of times Kaylee has rolled the old logs in someone else's bathroom, but this past weekend kind of takes the cake. If you haven't read my previous post on how my friends Brian and Sara had their camper sex-christened, you must read that to understand why I am totally embarassed and highly amused at the same time.

On my post this morning was another comment from my friend Sara that reads as follows: "Oh and Amy, YOUR little darling daughter "blessed" the toilet with the first poop. All these fun firsts have been taken from us! First the humping, now the pooping! Dang!" If I could crawl in a hole, I would, but first I would need to make sure Kaylee hadn't already taken a shit in it.

Monday, July 27, 2009

Campus Interruptus

I had THE funniest thing happen this weekend, oh my goodness. If I hadn't been so dehydrated from the heat, I would have DEFINITELY peed myself.

Mark was gone all weekend long helping his older brother move into their new house in Colville, so me being mother of the year that I am, kept the kids SO BUSY all weekend long that they didn't have an opportunity to beat each other.

First up on the list was visiting Brady's best buddy Joe Joe, and his future wife Bean (aka Lily). We hung out at their house for several hours on Saturday playing with all their toys, making a giant mess at their house, eating their pizza and leaving a wake of destruction in our path when we left.

Then my college friend Brian and his lovely, talented and extremely funny wife Sara (you can check out her blog too: were camping with their friends at Round Lake State Park. I allowed the kids to pass out in the van on the 25 minute drive down to the park and then we hiked down to the lake (really, it's just a freaking pond people, but anything with more water than a puddle qualifies as a lake up here) for some time to play.

Sara and her BFF were in town shopping for some CRAZY bargains during crazy days in Sandpoint, so it was me, Brian and three children ages 5, 3 and 11 months. If you knew both of us when we were in college, you probably wouldn't have trusted us with three children. Thankfully we've grown up significantly....

Sara made it back to the campsite and joined us at the lake for a swim. We were having a blast catching up and splashing with the kids. Sara mentioned that she had cupcakes back at the campsite and before I could say anything my kids were pretty much out of the water, with shoes on trucking back up to their camper for a treat. Maybe if I didn't deprive them so much.....

Anyhoozer.....I guess we're pretty noisy and didn't stay down at the beach quite long enough. As we were entering the campsite Sara's BFF and her husband came BARRELING out of Sara & Brian's camper looking ever-so-guilty.

The hubby said "oh we were looking for a bandaid" and Sara said (I am totally not making ANY of this up): "Oh MY GOD! You guys were DOING it in our camper, WEREN'T you???"

They looked pretty darn ashamed and quite frankly didn't even bother to deny it. All Mrs. BFF said was "It was all HIS idea" (totally what I would have said) and Sara says, "Amy, this is my friend (name changed to protect the non-innocent) Madam Humpsalot".....

I know they were slightly concerned about the impression they must be leaving on me, but hey, I'm a mom with two kids, I totally get it. When you're camping with your kids there's pretty much no choice. And ya know, doing it in someone else's trailer WITH a door that locks must have been pretty appealing.

More than anything Sara was bummed because she and Brian had yet to "christen" their own camper, but that duty has been covered for them. Thoughtful friends.

I did notice, however, that Mr. Humpsalot didn't look overly tired, and he certainly didn't say he needed a nap so I was guessing that they never really did seal the deal, if ya know what I mean...

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Children & Animals

I always say "children are like wild animals, and they can smell when you're weak or afraid, and they WILL take full advantage." I learned that during my days as a middle school teacher. I am pretty sure I've mentioned it a time or two in this blog, but I was reminded of this very phenomenon last night.

Poor Mark had to work late on a project that was moved quickly up the priority list while he was away on vacation. Of course, it never fails, it is almost always tub night when Mark is pulled away. Hmmmmmm......coincidence?

Of course we're all tired from our trip and the kids are, without fail, ravenously hungry when I pick them up at the end of the day. Additionally, because of the whole bandaid thing, Brady didn't take much of a nap so here's the equation for disaster: 1 tired mom who had a crappy day at work + 1 really exhausted 3 year old with an axe to grind over the bandaid situation + 1 really emotional and sensitive 5 year old = TOTAL DISASTER!!!!!!!

Here's how dinner went down:

Kaylee complained because her (custom made by request) cheese quesadilla was cut and Brady's was not. Seriously, the kid was almost in tears. I had forgotten, so went ahead and cut it. Cue the screaming 3 year old: I don't want mines cut (you read right "mines" as in both of his personalities I guess). Me (mother of the year): Quit complaining and eat- it will cool off and won't burn your mouth.

Kaylee pounded her quesadilla (after talking herself down from being upset over the whole cutting thing), apples and carmel (haven't made it to the store, okay? stop judging) and apple juice. (Note: Mom, I know there's not a vegatable, see previous statement). I asked if she was hungry and YES, she was. I think the kid has tape worms or a hollow leg. She eats more than I do! I gave her some tunafish salad on crackers, and yes she ate it. Then a big ol' ice cream sandwich, followed by yogurt and life cereal. And ya know what? Still hungry.....

Fast forward to tub time.

Me: Get your clothes off and in the tub! REPEAT 80 times!!!! Finally got one kid in the tub, after she dropped the old deuce in the toilet. Then Brady stepped up to the pot and also dropped a deuce, but really messy (read: poop everywhere!!!!). Both kids finally got in the tub together and complete mayhem ensued. Splashing, kicking, hitting, toy throwing, and general shenanigans. I think I was as soaked as the kids when all was said and done. One of these days I'll remember to change out of my work clothes before tubby time.

You would think as hard as it was to get them in, they would have been thrilled to get out. Nope! And the tub was coated in brown sludge from whatever dirt they managed to coat themselves with, on top of the three inches of sunscreen applied each day to keep their skin as white as my well you get the idea...

Me, I'd be jumping out of the tub to escape the parasites now living in the ring around the tub, but I guess when you're 3 and 5, it is just as fun to taunt your mother and play in an empty tub than to actually escape the plague.

Anyway, bedtime didn't go much better, but I finally got them in and of all the things to top off my day? Couldn't find my margarita fixins.....typical.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

The Serial Thumbsucker

When Brady was a baby, I tried like hell to get him to take a binky, or a "pacifier" if you must be technical, but to no avail. He would just spit it out and go right for the thumb. Shoulda known, he'd suck on any finger he could find near his mouth, including mine.

I hoped that one day he would just take the damn binky and forget the thumb, but that day never came. My logic was that I could always take the binky away, but to get him to quit the thumb was going to be a little tougher. Man was I WRONG!

Brady is now 3 + years old with no end to the thumbsucking in sight. In fact, he has made two little holes in his thumb from his increasingly crooked bottom teeth on top of the giant callous he's created. So much so that I think he may draw blood soon.

We kept reminding him when we were on vacation: Brady take your thumb out. One time he replied back: But I'm TIRED. (as if that's a valid reason for chewing an appendage off your body!)

Yesterday we were in the car for hours driving home. We kept reminding him to stop doint it. In fact, I think we said "Brady take your thumb out" on a 5-1 ratio of the children asking us "are we there yet" which is A LOT.

At one point I looked back and saw that he had put his blanket over his head. Guess what he was doing? You got it: sucking his thumb in disguise! Stinker.

Oh, and apparently Brady thinks his middle name is "Stinker Pants", 'least that's what he told his Aunt Debbie when she asked him.

And the footnote to this story is that last night I wrapped Brady's thumb in three big bandaids and put him to bed. He clearly didn't suck his thumb, but promised if I took the bandage off he wouldn't suck his thumb. I am not that dumb. But I did give him a dollar to quit asking me.

Monday, July 13, 2009

What song does THIS remind you of?

Recently Mark made what those of us in redneck north Idaho (according to his brother anyway) refer to as Beer Can Chicken.
It is actually quite delicious, but when I went out to the grill to take it inside I opened the lid and burst our laughing, nearly peeing myself. All I could hear in the background was "Sledgehammer"....
"sledge sledge sledgehammer
I've kicked the habit
shed my skin
this is the new stuff
I go dancing in, we go dancing in...."
Long live Peter Gabriel and this naughty naughty song! To check out the (PG 13) video click here:
And you'll see what I mean about the chicken, 'cept mine has a nice tan.

Saturday, July 11, 2009

Pretty darn funny

On the way to my friend Deena's house Brady asked for a piece of juicy fruit gum, which he was given. Deena and I were prepping for our big yard sale today (a whole other blog on that later!!) so the kids went inside. A few minutes later Brady came out screaming his head off due to his irrational fear of dogs, in particular yellow labs who want nothing more than to lick him and allow him to scratch their butt.

Anyways, after the evening was over we stopped for the kids to get a milkshake and I noted that Brady's gum was gone. I asked him what happened to it and he said "the dog ate it" like it was his homework or something. I figured he was full of shit. So I prodded some more and asked his sister who was allegedly a witness to the whole event. Yep, sure enough.

Here's what they said: Brady was crying so hard that his gum fell out and before Brady could pick it up the dog ate it. Kaylee says, "Harley is a doggie garbage can."

I sent a text to Deena thinking that maybe this wasn't such a good thing, and all she said was LOL, you have to be careful with that dog, if you put anything in front of him that resembles food, he'll eat it.

I was so thankful that she thought it was funny because I almost peed my pants when the kids told me! Now to figure out how to get rid of Brady's fear of dogs....

Friday, July 10, 2009

One of my favorite things

Is driving around town and having my windows rolled down enjoying the sunshine, light breeze, blue sky, and fresh air, then stopping at a stop light and having the asshole next to me blow his cigarette smoke out of his own fricken window so it drifts right into mine. Gee thanks dumbass, if I wanted to smell your smoke I'd be riding in your car. Roll up the window you selfish jerk.....

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

New grocery store ID policy

Recently I decided to start coloring my hair. Mostly because it's getting really really gray, but partly because I just wanted to do something different. As many of you know, I have a love affair with alcohol. Not the co-dependent kind or anything, but I just reaaaaalllllllly love it.

Ever since I started coloring my hair again, I noticed that I was getting asked for my ID in the check out line when purchasing any sort of booze. I was feelin' PRETTY good about myself, until an encounter recently.

Check out girl: "Can I see your ID please?"

Me: "Of course! Thanks, I never get asked anymore. Makes me feel so young looking!"

Stupid ass check out girl with no common sense: "Yeah, they changed it. Now we have to card if you look under 40."

Monday, July 6, 2009

You know you're camping in north Idaho when...

You know it's spelled "creek" with a long EE sound, but you say "crick"

You think nothing of shooting a firearm in the middle of the morning for no reason other than just because

You happily enjoy a light beer in a can cooled in the aforementioned crick

You determine that dirt is just as good of a bug repellant as anything

Beer bratwursts become a dietary staple

You use gasoline to start a fire, instead of the old fashioned way with sticks and pine needles

You see signs to a lake, but when you get there it's a really big pond

Your husband actually sees a bear and you are grateful he brought his gun

You are filthy dirty and tired when you get home but you've never had more fun!

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Goin' camping

We are headed out this afternoon to go camping for the weekend. I sincerely hope that the rest of the weekend goes better than our morning:

Mark ran over Kaylee's bike and totally crushed it while trying to hook up the camper trailer.

Cross your fingers that it gets better from here. I am pretty sure I'll have plenty to blab, I mean blog about when I get back from boondocking in the north Idaho woods.

I can hear the banjos now....

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Is it just me or...

Have other women's husbands been constantly busting out their best Michael Jackson impression ever since the dude croaked over? No? Just mine? Sigh.