There's Pee In My Shoe

My daughter is notorious for getting into my shoes. I can't blame the girl for her obsession, but it is slightly annoying when they're strewn all over the house. 

Today, however, was the last straw with my girl and MY shoes. She ever-so-sweetly requested that I turn in the bathroom light. My heart swelled with pride, because I knew this meant she needed to potty, and I normally have to make several requests of her before she wants to go. So the fact that she was asking me was a big step in the right direction... or so I thought. 

What I found when I reached the bathroom was my angel baby sitting on the potty, with her wet pants beside her. Now, I normally wouldn't be too upset about this accident. At least she knew she needed to be on the potty, so it counts as merely a failed attempt in my book.  

I asked if she pee-pee'd in her pants, and she said, "Pants wet. Mommy's shoes wet too."  This is where I panic. What shoes? My shoes? Did she just do what I think she did?  

I had her take me to the scene of the crime, where I found my black flats dripping with urine. I'm thankful they're machine washable, but uncertain as to whether or not they'll forever smell of pee. I'll be glad when accidents are a thing of the past, or at least when she loses the obsession with my shoes. 

Unfulfilled

Sometimes the life of a parent is so unfulfilling. You give it all you've got, only to find yourself staring at some smart-mouthed kid who simply won't obey. Where do they get it from? HAS to be their Daddy, because I was an angel... at least until high school... moving on. 

Some days I want to drown my sorrows in coffee, and run away to some secluded mountaintop resort where no one calls me "mom" or even knows I am one. But this season will pass. My oldest is turning 9 next month, and those days of temper tantrums and bedtime tears seem so far away. I kinda want to skip ahead with the 2 year-old to a more peaceful age. But then she throws the covers over our heads and tells me to "hide from the scary monster" and, for a moment, I forget the rottenness. For a moment, we cuddle under the covers while the monster (aka: the dog) tries to invade our giggle party. These are the moments I choose to remember. These are the moments that I hold dear. 

And just like lightening, there comes that attitude. Think I'll go pour another cup. 

Oh, Rudolph

Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer. That pretty much sums up my life these days. It used to be just a cute Christmas song. Used to be...

Now my relentless, tone-deaf two year-old has changed that for me. She used to love to sing a wide variety of songs. Now it's Rudolph and sometimes Let It Go. Can you believe I'm actually wanting to sing Let It Go? 

The first time she sang it, I thought it was just precious. She messed up all the words, and belted it out with all her might. Problem is.... Christmas is WAY over, and she's still singing the same version. Learn the lyrics or get on key, but something's got to give! My car rides are becoming more of a struggle with each passing day. 

Potatoes V. Soup

My daughter won't eat potatoes. Mashed, baked, roasted, doesn't matter. She hears "potato" and automatically refuses. The kid doesn't even eat French fries. I mean, what kid doesn'tike a good French fry?!?  

The thing is... she used to love them. I'm not sure when this all started, but I know that it's all in her head. She's stubborn and defiant, and because I want her to eat potatoes on occasion, she won't. How do I know this, you ask?  Because my daughter loves soup. And not just any soup. You guessed it... Potato Soup. Of course, I didn't call it potato soup. It's just regular soup at our house. But she ate 3 bowls of it. 

Reverse Mode

Child #2 is so much more dramatic than child #1. Maybe the difference from boy to girl? Maybe birth order? Maybe God really does have a sense of humor? 

 

We're potty training, and my stubborn little lady only wants to do it her way, and in her time. Sometimes, that means in the nude... Sometimes, she requires warm hugs while she does her business... Sometimes you have to count for her, and then other times you're not welcome within a 10 ft radius. 

Today was a new one, though. Today was reverse mode. But hey, as long as I hear tinkles - I'm happy. 

Turtle Power

I guess it's been awhile since I've had a new razor. We're on a pretty tight budget, and certain "optional" hygiene items (i.e. new razors) don't always make the cut. Hunky Husband uses the electric one, so I'm really the only person who takes the hit, and I've never felt too inconvenienced by my decision. I suppose as the blade starts to dull, I just apply more pressure. 

Today, however, I'm regretting this way of life. I used a new razor, and the hack job I did on my legs is giving me flashbacks to my 8 year-old self and the first time I ever used a razor (without permission, I might add). In case you weren't aware, you don't have to apply nearly the same amount of pressure with a new blade.  I suppose that's the whole appeal. Now I'm covered in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle bandaids and praying I get the bloody towels washed before anyone starts to suspect me of some heinous crime. Turtle Power my friends. 

Crappy Morning

There's nothing quite like finding a fresh turd in your child's room.  This particular turd happened to be decorated with Legos. I'm still not certain if the Legos came out with the turd, or if my daughter marveled at her masterpiece and decided it needed a little something extra. Either way, it was quite the unusual discovery, even in my house. 

There was this one time that my dog pooped rainbows. No lie... Her little mounds in the yard were actually something worth looking at. Upon close inspection and careful thought, I remembered that she had gotten into a box of crayons the day before. I didn't realize she had eaten such an assortment of colors, but her poop told on her. 

Now that I've written an entire post about crap, I think I'll go clean something.