Growing Boy.

This won't be long.

No, really - it won't.

I'm not going to elaborate on how I'm typing this in the kitchen, standing up with a pile of asparagus in front of me while Sesame is playing in a sink full of water, pantless.

I won't spend my precious moments of time recounting the tale of why my couch cushion is sitting in the middle of my dining area, covered in baking soda and seltzer water.

I don't think you even want to know why I'm on my fourth shirt of the day and why the only pair of summer weight pants that fit me have been washed twice today.

Even though you would most likely cackle uncontrollably if let you hear how I chased after my dog.  Only to find out that it was, in fact, not my dog - I will not tell the tale.

Why?  

Because this little dude:

has been waaaaaaaaaaaaay too fun today to think about any of that!  :)  

Have a fabulous day!

Random.

1.  Dear Kohl's - I think I might have to leave you a neatly folded note that says, "I am breaking up with you."  What is with all the girl toddler clothes!?  I have been a faithful infant clearance rack shopper since January 2009.  You have never disappointed, what with your cute jumping bean play clothes and Polo dresses for a mere 2.00.  When the time came to graduate to the next section I wept.  Why?  Because every piece of clothing - clearance and not - seems to have giant photos of Disney princesses or Dora the Explorer brandished across the front.  Now, I recognize there will be a time when my daughter falls madly and deeply in love with princesses.  But on all her clothes?  I think not.  Please, bring back the cute, colorful, fun, comfy clothes.  I miss them.

2.  Dear Target - You are my new retail love.  You have replaced Kohl's.  My daughter is, at this moment, wearing navy and off-white polka dot leggings (gathered at the ankle), an empire waist Peter Pan collar knit navy coat, with a sweet off-white, ruffle-necked T underneath.  How much did this entire, adorable outfit cost??  $7 dollars.  Oh Yeah.  I can't find an outfit this cute, at this price, used at Once Upon a Child!  Thank you for being reasonable and having simple, cute items for my 2 year old.  You rock.

3.  Why do I have 13 sewing projects cut and half sewn??  I mean, really, why!?  Does anyone else do this?  Am I alone?!

4.  I have now entered the beached whale phase of Squirt's pregnancy.

5.  I love being a beached whale.

6.  This:

Made me laugh.  Very hard.  And for a long time.  I'm not ashamed.

7.  I am also not ashamed that my husband and I played Paper, Rock, Scissors to see who would change Sesame's dirty diapers as a little tyke.  Nor am I ashamed that as she grew, she would walk up to us and try to play when she had a dirty diaper.  :)

8.  I leave you with some Sesame-isms:

Conrad: "Sesame, are you sleepy?"
Sesame: "No." pause "I'm just restin' in my car seat."

Conrad: "Sesame, Num-Num time is over.  Give it to Daddy please"
Sesame: "Okay." walks away dejectedly. "That's a big bummer."

Me: "Sesame, would you like to have blueberries or apples?"
Sesame: "I would like ice cream"  pause "Chocolate." pause "with a spoon."

Me: "Sesame, what should we call baby Squirt when he/she comes out of Momma's tummy?"
Sesame: "Ummm....Jesus."

You Might Be Feeling Better If...

Your Momma catches you jumping on your bed...

Fever free, happy, playful, asking for food, requesting "piggie-toes" (pig-tails) in her hair, asking for food, using the potty, playing with Homer...I think it's safe to say, she's feeling better!  :)  Praise the Lord!

Potty Training Take 2: Day 3

Disclaimer:  This post talks about poop.  And pee.  And lots of it.

Dear mothers of the world,

     None of you warned me what this potty training business was like.  Day One was awesome!  Smooth sailing.  Lots of attempts with success, which means I'm the awesome, cool Momma who gets to pass Skittles out.  Yay.  But then Day Two came.  And Day Three.  Now I am mean Momma.  I demand every 20 minutes that we sit on the potty.  I am the Momma who says, "No, we cannot go to the park because you will pee everywhere.  We can, however, go in our backyard, because I don't care if you pee there."  We have had 7 failed potty attempts this morning.  All did start with "Potty Momma, Potty!" followed by a brisk sprint to one of the two mini-toilets in the house.  Sadly, she starts peeing shortly after telling me she needs to.  While this does make her brisk sprint morph into a cowgirl waddle by the time she's in front of the potty, it makes for lots [pause for emphasis] lots of wet laundry.

---------------------------------Beginning of Massive Poop Story----------------------------------

     Yesterday may have been the peak.  We had an event which I will forever call by name the "Poo Shoe" incident.  My dear friend was over for lunch, and to remind us humans still wander the earth beyond our walls, when Sesame disappeared.  I lost track of her for half a minute.  Half a minute.  That's thirty seconds.   During which she ran into my closet, shut the door and let a giant turd loose in her powder blue drawers.  Ew.  Gross.  Upon finding her she reminded me that if she pooped, she received a sucker.  "No," I said, "Only if the poopy is in the potty."  "Oh, dear."  she said and hung her sweet braided head.  Up the stairs we went.  Jenn even braved the putrid smell.  I decided laying her down would be best, since we only had a solid turd to work with.  Bad idea.

     As soon as I tugged her training pants down the poo flew out, resting near her tiny toes.  "AHHH!"  I yelled.  Because, really, what does one say when a solid poop turd flies around on a changing table!   Sesame, ever my mimic, began to scream with glee, thinking it a game, and flailing around with joy.  Normally this a non incident.  I like joy in my house.  I like squealing.  I do not, however, like tiny toddler feet that have a large piece of poop molded to them.

     That's right.  Sesame managed to aim her right inner heel to big toe directly into the magnificent poop.  Immediately after which she began to fling her foot about in an attempt to A) do the jitterbug or B) remove the poop.  Fortunately, Jenn was there and able to help me reign in the horror/laughter/baby feet, and remove the excrement.  Sesame just giggled the whole time.  I almost puked.

-------------------- End of Massive Poop Story------------------------------------------

     So.  Aside from that incident, the potty training is draining, but moving along, apparently, like normal.  What did you all do with potty training???  How did it work for you???  And, how in the WORLD did you manage to EVER leave the house?!!?  I feel like that day will never come.  :)

Potty Training Take 2: Day 1

Number of panties + pants combination in the wash as I type: 4
Number of times Sesame screamed "POTTY POTTY" and then went running to the bathroom: 4
Number of times Sesame put pee in the potty: 3
Number of Skittles consumed before nap time: 10
Number of times Momma slipped and put her entire arm in the potty: 1


I'd say it's not going too badly.  I'll let you know after nap time.  :)

Confession.

1. There has been a serious lack of photos on this blog lately.  What is that about?!

2. For the past two days I have become increasingly unbalanced.  I went to the doctor today only to find out I have been storing the Nile in my ear canal.  Perhaps that's why Egypt has been in such unrest lately...

3. I have moments like my husband.  Remember the marker incident.  Oh, and the egg incident?  Well, yesterday husband came home from work, to a giddy toddling girl and a wife still in her pj's.  He hugged his ladies and chased his dog.  [sigh] All was right in his world.  Then he went to the bathroom.  "Honey," heard his barefoot, pregnant, pajama-ed wife in the kitchen.  "HON-NEY," he yelled at the top of his lungs do his deaf wife.  "Yes," she said back.  "I think Sesame learned to open the toilet lid."  That's right ladies and gents wife, aka moi, had a catastrophe on her watch.  Apparently while deaf, disoriented Momma made dinner in the kitchen, little Sesame discovered the inner workings of the toilet.  She then pulled almost an entire roll of toilet paper off the roll, placed it in the toilet, re-closed the lid, climbed on top of the toilet to the sink where she then attempted to wash her hands.  How did husband discern all this you ask?  Because there was Twisted Peppermint hand soap all over the vanity, complete with resplendent, sparkling bubbles in the sink.  Who was supposed to be watching this child when all of this happened?!  Me.  Emily.  The Momma.  Parenting FAIL.  At least she was trying to use the potty and at least she knew to wash her hands.  Right???

4.  I fully intend to bribe my child to use the potty with Skittles.  It has been decided and purchased.  I'll keep you posted on the pee and poop in the potty progression.

5.  This is one of my favorite photos of my husband and me.  Not just because he has a crayon up his nose.  Not just because of my expression.  Not just because I'm wearing an IU shirt and he is wearing a Purdue shirt.  But because it completely captures our personalities.  :)  I heart you husband.  :)

6.  Sesame's first Valentine's Day in 2009:

Sesame's second Valentine's Day, 2010:

Sesame's third Valentine's Day, 2011:

Oh, wait...there aren't any photos.  Momma fail, again.  :)  Ya'll just have to settle for some from later today!  :)  It's close enough, right!  :)

Random.

Husband took this.

Our expressions confirm two things:

1. I am most certainly her daughter.

2. We look even more alike with both of our hairs cut short

3. My daughters genes are nowhere near short on facial animation

Okay.

It confirms three things not two.

Sesame's dog, Amos, never leaves her side these days.

I don't know why.

Sometimes, when she's playing by herself, I hear her talking to Amos.

No, really!

She says, "Amos, boat bee doo hi mo."

She moves him around and everything. 

They're kind of best buddies.

Like an imaginary friend.

Only, he's physically present.

Not so sure about his mental faculties though.

The other day she brought him into the bathroom.
"Amos, bath."
She said.

"No," I responded, "Amos already had his bath."

She scowled at me and said, 

"Dirty. Shoo-Wee"

"No," I said again, "I already washed his hands and feet."

She eyed me up and down.

"Amos, sit."

she said and promptly placed him on the potty.

Someday they'll go on more adventures.
I'm content to have their adventures be limited to having tea parties

writing letters to family

and 

eating snack together.

Notice that list does not include bath time.

No baths for Amos.

That can only end in tears.

My Baby

My Baby has started using the potty.  When she wakes up in the morning and after naptime she even says "Pa-pa?" which turns me into an entirely different human being.  No, really.  I shriek "Potty!?  Yes!  Hurry!  Go! Go!"  They are no complete sentences involved in my attempt to rush her to the potty.  : )

The other day our potty experience went something like this:  I had her naked on the potty, I heard a tinkle sound, stopped reading Duck Goes Potty (which I rented from the library and LOVE!), stood up and rejoiced over her yellow puddle in the potty.  We clapped, we danced, we rejoiced.  "Sesame, we have to go put a new diaper on now, so stand right there while Momma moves..."

Just as I said this a warm, tingling sensation crept over my foot.
It was wet.
I looked down, and to my utter horror, realized I was being peed upon.
By my daughter.
Who had just peed in the potty.

 "AH!"  I shouted, "Sit!  Potty!  Hurry!  Go! Go!  Stop!  Potty!"  She sat, she peed, we rejoiced.  "Now, Sesame, we're going to read this book, and try and potty more."  I thought I was so smart.  We waited, no more pee.  We flushed the potty and regrouped to head upstairs.  I realized I left my coffee on the floor in the bathroom, so I turned, grabbed the cup and heard a wee vocie squeak out, "Oh No."

I rounded the corner to see Sesame peeing on the carpet.

"STOP!  SIT! POTTY! NOW!  RUN!"

And run she did.

She was like Forrest Gump.  'Run Sesame, Run!' and I was Jenny, cheering her on in some gibberish Mom tone.  But while she ran, she also peed.  I praised the Lord we had a can of Spot Shot.  She made it to the potty, peed two dribbles, proudly proclaimed "All Done!" opened the cabinet under the sink, pulled out a diaper and said "Diaper, Momma."