Potty Training Gets Comical

I forgot to mention a very funny incident that happened over the holiday weekend. Well, it was funny if you weren't me or Taylor duking it out in a nasty gas station bathroom on the way back from Paris (Texas, not the real one in France). This post does have semi-graphic poo talk, so if that grosses you out, just skip this one altogether.

All day Thursday Taylor kept saying she needed to poop. If you know of our potty training woes, you are already aware that my kid will not poop anymore without a long, sometimes spanning days, production before the actual event. Somewhere down the line pooping started to freak her out and now we're in a daily mini-war. Anyhoo, after multiple, uneventful, trips to the potty at my uncles' house we hit the road back home. Halfway back she starts crying and carrying on that she needs to potty, and I finally think that maybe, just maybe, this is it. Enter the hella nasty gas station bathroom. We have our happy little Dora fold out potty seat to save her little heinie from getting hepatitis and I'm just praying this goes down with at least a turd in the toilet to show for it.

Now, that would be ideal, right? Here's what actually went down. First off Taylor is touching EVERYTHING in sight in that rat-hole, and because I'm trying to unfold the damn potty seat, she's succeeding in thwarting every single one of my attempts to keep her hands free of god knows what all germs truckers have left behind. Once it's unfolded and I prop her up on the pot, she starts fighting. "All done, ALL DONE!" Imagine that line with some kicking and screaming thrown in for funsies. In the midst of this tantrum, the flimsy ass potty seat buckles, nearly dropping her down in the toilet. I make a grab, and in my attempt to right her on the seat manage to get a nice skid all over our potty seat, along with nasty toilet. Fabulous. At this point I'm so frustrated I just said, "Jesus, Taylor. Really?????" To which my child replies (in song) , "Yes, Jesus loooooves me!" Glad that church-based daycare is giving us our money's worth.

After many baby wipes and thorough hand scrubbing, I gave up on the whole thing and said screw it, just please for the love of God, poop in your pullup.

The Thanksgiving Experience With TWO Small Children

So after two and a half years of parenting, holidays are still some of my most dreaded times of the year. No matter how foolproof you think your planning is, you still wind up exhausted and getting caught at least once with your pants down, figuratively speaking. Those of you with small children at home know that its almost impossible to get caught with your pants actually down, because unless you have a full-time nanny on staff, you rarely even have time to pee without some little munchkin following you and banging on the door the whole time, but I digress. Anyhoo, we survived our first holiday as a family of four, and I must say I'm absolutely exhausted. Taylor decided that she wasn't going to sleep or poop the entire time we were gone (which was four loooooong days), and poor Ava has caught what I can only imagine is probably kennel cough from daycare. Actually it's just allergy crud, but kennel cough does bring a pretty realistic description when you consider how crap always gets passed around daycares. Add to that the constant stress of bird-dogging that comes with having a two-year-old (who has all the grace of a bull in a China closet) is let loose in a non-childproof house full of expensive breakables. Seriously though, a big thank you Tim and Thom for hosting a lovely dinner, and even moreso, thank you for making sure there was wine on hand. Not sure my nerves would have made it without that glass of Cabernet!

My children, in their PJ's, in bed. Notice they're NOT sleeping? Yeah, I noticed that too, every night.

Family picture with an active two-year-old. This is why we don't pay money for these......

And then Taylor found Gracie's tennis balls. She kept chucking them across the room saying, "Catch!" In all her genius, Lovie started a pile under the couch. This worked until Taylor found the pile and I had to spend five minutes dragging her out from under the couch.

Look, exhausted people! And where is Taylor?

Oh, running around like a cracked-out blur. Aunt Jenny feeding her mass amounts of whipped cream may have had something to do with this, but I'm not sure.

Oh look! Calm adults having a nice conversation. Notice Dan was the only one out of our group that got to participate. That's ok Dan, next family gathering it's game on - we're letting you wrestle the hellions ;)

Aunt Cathey to the rescue! Thank you again Cathey for helping us with our little Bumble Bee. I definitely needed both hands available to stop Taylor from her various forms of mischief.

Finally we gave up and took her outside. Note that she doesn't have on leggings or a jacket, and it was only about 50 degrees out. Everyone assured me it was warm enough outside that she didn't need either of the aforementioned clothing items, so no one call CPS. And Tim, thank you so much for suggesting the soccer ball. It helped work off some of that sugar, lol!

So as you can see, our few hours with our family was just a tad on the hectic side. So, if we seemed a bit aloof, or just downright didn't make a whole hell of a lot of sense you'll have to forgive me. Sleep deprivation, combined with a lot of time in a minivan, topped with a miniature Tasmanian Devil tends to make me a bit ADD.

They Really Do Grow Up Too Fast

Yesterday during Ava's afternoon nap, I took Taylor outside for a little bit to enjoy the remaining nice weather, and to run off some of that excess toddler energy. As my little terror was flying around the yard, I realized that somewhere when I wasn't looking, Taylor really has changed from a baby into a big kid. The baby fat chub is shedding (how could it stick around, that kid is always in motion), her coordination is growing, and I'm forever impressed with her newfound verbal skills.

Watching her run around kinda gave me that sad feeling because I know we won't be having any more kids (Yes, we are DONE, and yes, we're sure.), and I only get to do this one more time with Ava. It made me understand the people in my life who swore up and down that they were done having kids, only to have a total change of heart a few years later and start the roller coaster again. I get it, but that doesn't mean I'm planning on boarding that crazy train again myself.

Taylor bringing me an offering of rocks. Like Charlie Brown got on Halloween, only cooler because she really thought it was an awesome gift.

My future gymnast. Can't wait to get this kid in some lessons.

Speaking of growing, look who's too big for her britches now. I hate to move to the next size up though, because she has the infamous DeWitt body build. All torso, no legs. After a year, these jeans are finally the right length, but too small everywhere else.

What? You don't use your blankies as fuzzy ascots?

Ava's First Haircut

It's hilarious to me how different my own offspring are from each other, especially physically. Ava's staying pretty steadily ahead of Taylor in regards to how big she was at each milestone, and plus, she's got all that hair. Poor Munkie was bald as hell for most of her first year, and once I was ready to trim off all the scraggly bits around her first birthday, Jody fought me on it because it seemed ungrateful to him to cut off any of that long awaited hair, no matter how mullett-esque it was.

This time however things were totally different. You all remember my little Zoolander baby when she first came out, and as most hair-born babies do, she has rubbed off a lot of what was there along the back and sides of her head. What remained was this horrible strip of long hair along the top that was eerily resemblant of an old man's comb-over, if that old man happened to be Hitler. Yeah, Jody pointed out that our little girl's hair was a little too close for our comfort to the leader of the Third Reich earlier today. That was enough to decide for us both that it was time to even that mess out.

The whole event was rather short-lived (about 5 minutes), and uneventful if you don't count her screaming and crying the whole time. But, that's what I get for deciding to pester her right before her dinner time. When this chick is hungry, its time to eat, and she has no patience for anything else. Anyhoo, I got the scraggly mess evened up for the most part, and she now looks like a little girl again, as opposed to a heinous killer.

That's right, I braved this ordeal and cut her hair myself. Considering it does look a little choppy, I'll probably let Lovie or Grammy do the honors next time.

Note the 1989 rat-tail at the nape of the neck, yeah, that crap's gone now too.

So much happier with her snazzy new 'do. Oh, and the fact that she finally got to eat didn't hurt either.

This and That

When you have two little kids and are rolling on a tight budget, entertainment comes in the most random of places. We haven't been out and about much lately, I blame the cooler weather and just an overall attitude of hermit-ness for our decline in activity. So, as a result of cabin fever, here are some of our random photo-ops from the last week:

Photo #1 - The Diva

This is what you get when you let a two-year-old pick out her own wardrobe. Note the clunky daycare shoes that are labeled over every visible surface guaranteeing that you bring them back. Taylor had had a rather epic accident the day prior to this, and wound up having to borrow some shoes so as not to look like Britney Spears at a gas station. Yes, I know the Britney references are plentiful on this blog, but damn, she's an easy target for a white trash metaphor.

Photo #2 - The Cinderella Game

Taylor is all about wearing our shoes around the house, and this particular evening she decided that I needed to try on hers. And yes, she does wear pants 90% of the time, but by the end of the day when we've been on and off of the potty a bazillion times because she keeps threatening to poop (And that's why she's wearing a pull-up in this one as opposed to underwear. I've gotten tired of cutting off shitty panties and chucking them in the trash. This also explains why I'm not a proponent of cloth diapers in my home. The idea of washing out poo just completely grosses me out.).

Photo #3 - Smiley Mc Smilerson

Seriously, I can't get enough of this gummy little grin. Ava is the happiest little clam I've ever seen. I love love, love this age!

Photo #4 - "The Grimmace"

If you've spent any amount of time around us and our kids, you'll notice that Jody comes up with the craziest, most random nicknames for them. Taylor has been everything from Munkie, to Goose, to Grimmace as of most recently. In this pic, the last one is at least explained. This is the facial expression of a kid who has just discovered those little capsules that turn into foam shapes when dissolved in water. Easiest bath ever. Plus she was more than happy to play with her souvenirs for quite a while after.

Anyhoo, now that you're privy to the hella excitement that's been going on around here, I promise to have some more eventful posts in the coming weeks. Especially with holiday travels and whatnot.

Nom nom!

Per our pediatrician's recommendation, we decided to start Ava on the wonderful journey into solid food, hooray! Not only does this mean that solid food is thicker, therefore less likely to come up in a torrent of spit up, but also this will help to alleviate some of the expense of baby formula. And Gerber can kiss my ass, this time I'm going to attempt to make my own. I know, I know, this sounds like way more effort than I care to be involved in. But considering 2-2 oz jars of mashed up whatever cost a dollar apiece, and one butternut squash that will make about ten times that amount is the same price the math wasn't that hard. Plus, if the date my food processor and I have with destiny doesn't exactly work out, Gerber is always ready and willing to take my money again.

Anyhoo, financials aside, Ava is rockin' this whole eating from a spoon thing. She took to it like a champ from the first try. If I recall it correctly, it took us a fair amount of time to get Taylor to get used to eating from a spoon without spitting it right back out (probably a foreshadowing of the picky eater she has become). But our little Chunk-a-Lunk nommed up every last bite, and has been gobbling it up three times a day now for two days. Can I get a woo-hoo? She's still a little pissed at me for changing her from a 3 hour to 4 hour feeding schedule, but in a few more days, I know she won't care.

Note the look of concentration on my face. I'm pretty sure I was working much harder at this than Ava.

Mmmm, tastes like apples and staleness! At least, that was my opinion. I spiked it with apple juice trying not to further constipate her.

Snarf!

Four Month Chunk-a-Lunk

Halloween kicked off with a bang, I went to get Ava out of bed to discover that she was a snot-tastic mess, and one eye was gunked shut. Enter the pediatrician. Just because we seem to acquire pinkeye rather easily around these parts, I decided to play it safe and take her to the doctor. In a nutshell, she's just got a nasty cold that is producing so much snot it's coming out of her eyes. Nice, huh? But since we were there, I was able to convince the nurse practitioner to just give us her four month immunizations as opposed to coming back in two weeks. Hooray! Ava is weighing in at a whopping 16 lbs, and is 25 1/2" long! Her development is right on track, and as you'll see below, she's a smiling, laughing little (well, maybe not little) ball of fun. The nurse did also mention that Ava is ready for solid food too, so we'll embark on that adventure this next weekend. Check back for that update, but in the meantime, check out our little cutie!


Getting too big and squirmy for Mama to hold onto in the tub.


She has also started hanging out some in the bouncer. She was mesmerized by the frog.


Chewing on her burpie. She is now quite the grabby little girl.


And we have reached official stomach sleeper status. What is it with our kids and the "doodle-butt" position? This does not look comfy to me.