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!!!!

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.

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: http://www.sarafilly.blogspot.com/) 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...

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.

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.