Okay, so yesterday morning the following occurred to me; but it was so stinking hot that I didn't get around to posting it - sorry!
As I was trying to figure out what to wear to church, I had a weird realization. First of all, I realized that I spend way too much time worrying about what to wear to church, it is not like I am the fashion guru of Santa Barbara that people look to see what the latest fashion trends are. Second, and more important, I realized that I only have 1 white shirt. Which is weird, because I used to have like 20.
We used to have a golden retriever, who quickly helped me to purge all black clothing from my closet, since any time I wore something black I was like a walking billboard for a lint brush. But now I have like 10 black shirts and only 1 white one. This wouldn't be that big of a deal except that it seems like just yesterday I was rummaging through my closet trying to find a clean white shirt. I went through the usual - this one's too big, this one's too small, the bra I have to wear with that one is dirty, that one makes me look gross - and please don't tell me if I am the only one to have these conversations with myself! I ended up with like 23 white shirts spread all over my bed, and as I looked closer I also noticed that they all had some sort of stain on them. Sad, right? And yes, I do own bleach. But the ironic thing about all those stains was that looking at all those shirts with smudges and stains was like looking at a scrapbook. I could easily tell which ones were left from cheesy cheeto fingers pulling on my shirt to get attention, which ones were left from gooey chocolate hugs around my neck, the ones on the shoulders left behind from drips of blood from crying kids who had hurt themselves (it is amazing how much the human mouth bleeds when it gets cut!), and sadly which ones I did all on my own because I still have not learned the art of eating Italian food without spilling something on myself. I remember thinking to myself, hey - I should just take a picture of all these shirts lying on the bed and my scrapbooks would be a lot easier to keep up to date! And now, somehow, those shirts have all found their way into the garbage or thrift store box, and I had only one left. And amazingly, it was still white! So I wore it to church, and ended up helping in the nursery. Now I can add it to the scrapbook collection.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Friday, June 20, 2008
Potty Training 101
So, you would think after successfully potty training 2 kids the third would be a piece of cake, right? Not in my family. I must admit I was slightly spoiled by KJ. She decided just before she turned 2 that she wanted to be potty trained like her friend Addie, and the next thing you know the diapers were gone and quickly replaced with pretty pink princess panties. And then came Camden.
On Camden's 2nd birthday in February we got him underwear, just to have on hand. Turns out it is one of the cutest pictures from the party, Cam tightly gripping 2 packs of underoos with the biggest cheesiest grin possible. You would think it was a sign of good things to come, right? However, as soon as we uttered the words "do you want to sit on the potty" we were greeted with screams of protest and a flash of naked buns running down the hallway. So we decided to wait, as the "experts" say, until he was ready. Mommy decided he was ready when a couple of weeks ago he came into the living room, stuck his hands down the back of his diaper, pulled out a lovely mush of poo, and loudly proclaimed "Mama I poopy!". Okay, do you know how hard it is to get poop out from underneath a toddler's fingernails?
Anyways...that started the lengthy process that has now encompassed my every thought and decision. Every time I think about heading out I have to weigh the decision carefully, based on whether or not there will be potties where we are going, how long we will need to be gone, and how many changes of extra clothes I will need to bring. And to top it all off, my wonderfully dedicated husband who was trying to be incredibly helpful started the potty training and in order to keep Camden on the potty sang him the itsy bitsy spider song. He had no idea the Pandora's box he was opening when he started that lovely habit. Now every time Camden sits on the potty he insists on singing the itsy bitsy spider. Three different versions. Every time. I am so sick of that song! I hate potty training. I miss diapers. Those wonderfully absorbent genius creations that you can put on your kid in the morning and leave on until it looks like a soggy sack of potatoes between your child's legs has appeared 8 hours later and you think, maybe I should change that. Not that I have ever done that. So seriously though, is it really that bad if I keep him in diapers until high school?
On Camden's 2nd birthday in February we got him underwear, just to have on hand. Turns out it is one of the cutest pictures from the party, Cam tightly gripping 2 packs of underoos with the biggest cheesiest grin possible. You would think it was a sign of good things to come, right? However, as soon as we uttered the words "do you want to sit on the potty" we were greeted with screams of protest and a flash of naked buns running down the hallway. So we decided to wait, as the "experts" say, until he was ready. Mommy decided he was ready when a couple of weeks ago he came into the living room, stuck his hands down the back of his diaper, pulled out a lovely mush of poo, and loudly proclaimed "Mama I poopy!". Okay, do you know how hard it is to get poop out from underneath a toddler's fingernails?
Anyways...that started the lengthy process that has now encompassed my every thought and decision. Every time I think about heading out I have to weigh the decision carefully, based on whether or not there will be potties where we are going, how long we will need to be gone, and how many changes of extra clothes I will need to bring. And to top it all off, my wonderfully dedicated husband who was trying to be incredibly helpful started the potty training and in order to keep Camden on the potty sang him the itsy bitsy spider song. He had no idea the Pandora's box he was opening when he started that lovely habit. Now every time Camden sits on the potty he insists on singing the itsy bitsy spider. Three different versions. Every time. I am so sick of that song! I hate potty training. I miss diapers. Those wonderfully absorbent genius creations that you can put on your kid in the morning and leave on until it looks like a soggy sack of potatoes between your child's legs has appeared 8 hours later and you think, maybe I should change that. Not that I have ever done that. So seriously though, is it really that bad if I keep him in diapers until high school?
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Day One
Okay, so I am crazy and have submitted to the wild world of the web. I am still not sure what I am doing, but I figure half of the other bloggers out there don't know either, right? So to my wonderful family and friends who will visit, I hope that you enjoy brief insights and pictures of our lives. Our household may seem crazy but we have a lot of love!
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