Dear Coach

While you were in Chicago for the evening:

I may or may not have driven your kids thru the DQ drive and ordered Double Cheese Burgers and fries for dinner at 3:30pm. When they complained they were hungry again at 7:00pm, I may or may not have fed them chocolate chip cookies to keep quiet.

While watching the Cubs game and pointing you out to the children, I may or may not have eye rolled so hard at their buzzing excitement of seeing their father on TV, that I gave myself a headache.

While holding the baby and rubbing Tink's foot at the same time before bed, a reddish spider, may or may not have climbed up my ankle. It may or may not have bit me, leaving a mark and causing me to nearly drop the girls to the floor as I first killed said spider a minimum of 7 times before racing to the bathroom to scrub my ankle clean with rubbing alcohol and squeeze the poisonous DeviLreD spider venom out of the wound.
That same spider's corpse may or may not be sitting in a shot glass on our counter so it can easily be identified for anti-venom after half of my leg has been consumed by it's poison over night.

Hey, hope you had fun at the game, First Row Dug-out seats, high-fiving your buddies and tossing back cold ones as I did a poor job taking care of your children and living out MY WORST NIGHTMARE!!

Love you to pieces.
Your wife.

PS-I DVR'd the game so you can relive your super fantastic/magical night as my leg rots in the hospital this weekend. Anything for you, Muffin-face!

What happened?

A long time ago, in a land far, far away... I used to be an artist who drew beautiful pictures, I could read and speak French, I wore make-up, spoke to girlfriends on the phone for hours about nothing at all, dressed nicely and went out, read 3 books a week for no reason and slept. I slept.

Now: I have spent the last 24 hours trying to help the baby pass gas.

I kid.... that is not the only thing. I have also made 3 peanut butter sandwiches, 4 grilled cheese, filled the dishwasher, cleaned the bathroom and sprinkled in a little laundry.
If you are childless....consider this a warning.

Update: Within minutes of posting the above, the baby took care of her 'stomach ache' all over her new outfit, my NOT new outfit and then her sister's bed. I immediately bathed her, picked her up and she simultaneously puked and peed on me. (thankfully, I had not changed my outfit). Furthermore my husband is spending the evening at the Cubs game, first row, dugout seats. Who says God isn't a man and doesn't have a sense of humour?

The basic difference between the #10 and #11.

The obvious difference between Tink and her cousin (remember they share much of the same DNA) their dad's are brothers and their mother's are cousins. (yes, that is legal in our state)

Let's try to get past that Tink is 10 days older than Eleven and yet she has to be at least 5 inches smaller. After taking this picture, I spent a little time on the Internet finding a Child's future Height Predictor website. It's guesstimated Tink will be 5 feet 1 inch on her 18th birthday. That would only be possible if she consumed ANY kind of vitamin other than french fries and pizza.

Let's address the wardrobe. This photo was snapped at noon on Saturday. You'll notice Eleven is dressed, hair brushed, socks on, probably even washed her face... yada yada. Our girl refused to dress that morning (and I didn't push since I also was still in pj's) she is wearing the shirt from the day before UNDER her pajamas, always the bare feet and do we have to go into the hair issue? That's pretty obvious.

Last, while they were modeling, I told them to take one picture standing still, one picture acting wild and the last picture being sweet. Eleven can nail sweet....which picture is most convincing on Tink? Is that an air guitar, future roadie???
Can't wait to watch these girls grow up together!

Weekend reading

Warhol sent me this email and dubbed it 'Blog Worthy'. He was right, I do not believe I have ever laughed so hard at an email. Enjoy...

Random Thoughts of the Day:
* More often than not, when someone is telling me a story all I can think about is that I can’t wait for them to finish so that I can tell my own story that’s not only better, but also more directly involves me.
* Nothing stinks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.
* I don't understand the purpose of the line, "I don't need to drink to have fun." Great, no one does. But why start a fire with flint and sticks when they've invented the lighter?
* Have you ever been walking down the street and realized that you're going in the complete opposite direction of where you are supposed to be going? But instead of just turning a 180 and walking back in the direction from which you came, you have to first do something like check your watch or phone or make a grand arm gesture and mutter to yourself to ensure that no one in the surrounding area thinks you're crazy by randomly switching directions on the sidewalk.
* There is a great need for sarcasm font.
* I think everyone has a movie that they love so much; it actually becomes stressful to watch it with other people. I'll end up wasting 90 minutes shiftily glancing around to confirm that everyone's laughing at the right parts, then making sure I laugh just a little bit harder (and a millisecond earlier) to prove that I'm still the only one who really gets it.
* How the heck are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?
* I would rather try to carry 10 plastic grocery bags in each hand than take 2 trips to bring my groceries in.
* The only time I look forward to a red light is when I’m trying to finish a text.
* I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger.
* Answering the same letter three times or more in a row on a Scantron test is absolutely petrifying.
* Whenever someone says "I'm not book smart, but I'm street smart", all I hear is "I'm not real smart, but I'm imaginary smart".
* How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just nod and smile because you still didn't hear what they said?
* I love the sense of camaraderie when an entire line of cars teams up to prevent a guy from cutting in at the front. Stay strong, brothers!
* MapQuest really needs to start their directions on #5. Pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood.
* I find it hard to believe there are actually people who get in the shower first and THEN turn on the water.
* Shirts get dirty. Underwear gets dirty. Pants? Pants never get dirty, and you can wear them forever.
* Whenever I'm Facebook stalking someone and I find out that their profile is public I feel like a kid on Christmas morning who just got the Red Ryder BB gun that I always wanted. 546 pictures? Don't mind if I do!
* Why is it that during an ice-breaker, when the whole room has to go around and say their name and where they are from, I get so incredibly nervous? Like I know my name, I know where I'm from; this shouldn't be a problem....
* Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after DVDs? I don't want to have to restart my collection.
* There's no worse feeling than that millisecond you're sure you are going to die after leaning your chair back a little too far.
* "Do not machine wash or tumble dry" means I will never wash this ever.
* While watching the Olympics, I find myself cheering equally for China and USA. No, I am not of Chinese descent, but I am fairly certain that when Chinese athletes don’t win, they are executed.
* I hate when I just miss a call by the last ring (Hello? Hello? Darnit!), but when I immediately call back, it rings nine times and goes to voicemail. What'd you do after I didn't answer? Drop the phone and run away?
* I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste.
* Sometimes I'll look down at my watch 3 consecutive times and still not know what time it is.
* I keep some people's phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call.
* Even if I knew your social security number, I wouldn't know what do to with it.
* My 4-year old son asked me in the car the other day "Dad what would happen if you ran over a ninja?" How the hell do I respond to that?
* It really makes me mad when I want to read a story on CNN.com and the link takes me to a video instead of text.
* I wonder if cops ever get mad at the fact that everyone they drive behind obeys the speed limit.
* I disagree with Kay Jewelers. I would bet on any given Friday or Saturday night more kisses begin with Miller Lites than Kay.
* The other night I ordered takeout, and when I looked in the bag, saw they had included four sets of plastic silverware. In other words, someone at the restaurant packed my order, took a second to think about it, and then estimate d that there must be at least four people eating to require such a large amount of food. Too bad I was eating by myself.

Personally, after attending college...I found the name/ice breaker is the most correct! Or the missed phone call with Coach, or the facebook stalking, or the drinking to have fun, ok really, nearly every joke applies to this house...

She is wise....

This brief conversation took place in the van upon picking The Kid up from school yesterday.

The Kid: Mom, I want to go to Cub Scouts!

Tink (immediately shrieking from the back): You, neber go to Gub Scouts!!

Me: Listen to your sister.

She really is wise beyond her years. No offense, but I've never seen a professional Cub Scout sign a 3.2 million dollar contract and play at the Garden. Heck, I'd prefer the drama club, at least Jack Nicholson can get court side tickets. Close enough, I suppose. And let's get real, you don't want to date your brother's friends cuz they are an Eagle scout...Tink knows what she's looking forward too.

Her preddy smile...

This morning we returned to the doctor and remove all 13 stitches and pull back the scab to see how everything was healing.

We were so pleasantly surprised to find this!! I'm not sure if it was all the prayers, her fighting spirit or mommy's all night worrying...but our Tink has healed beautifully! If you had seen her before picture one week ago, you never could have imagined seeing this smile so soon. I teared up as soon as I saw the results. She has spent the last 3 hours repeatedly saying "My preddy lips are back!".
And we are so happy to see them.
Thank you, for your concern and well wishes.
It was mentioned this weekend that our girl may have some vanity issues, seeing as how she would allow no one to photograph her injury. We are confused where she would have inherited this trait from. Not sure what she will do once she gets acne and braces. Apologies now, from both your parents for that.
I may have to post several times to request prayers for her skin during her teenage years. Something tells me her brother and sister will never share the bathroom mirror with her in the morning.
Thanks again....this was an exhausting week, but the silver lining was feeling the love from all of you.

I heart....

I Heart....Crunch Berries
I Heart....that Coach knows every word to Aladdin.
I Heart....nearly every single time Six loses his balance. (Sorry Edie and Warhol)
I Heart....that the burning bushes are turning red.
I Heart....the very rare times we return our rented movies on time. Why don't we have Net Flix?
I do not Heart....that wet parade candy was shoved into my candy drawer.
I Heart....having a candy drawer.
I Heart....falling asleep on the couch, under a blanket, during the Bears game.

Little Blondie

This week, number Eight turns 7. When I first met little blondie, she was sure she was a princess....not too much has changed. Except this princess would prefer to wear black nail polish, ripped jeans and tiny shirts. She is morphing into a little teenage babysitter and practicing on the younger 4 girls. We can't get enough of her sweet toothless smile and the cuddles she has handed out in the past. Thanks for making the world a better place with your sun tan, always watching out for Flag girl and taking care of my girls when I am trying to ignore them!
Love you and Happy Birthday Eight!

The Greatest Weekend on Earth

If you ask The Kid what his favorite holiday is, his stock answer is always "Besides Harvest Days...?" To him there is nothing better than our fall festival. While this weekend has not been one of our best celebrations due to our poor Tink....it still had a few high lites.
From The Kid's all night carnival rides, 3 siblings in the softball tournament, me finally getting to cut loose with a few drinks and Tink flying high on the "Berris Wheel like Tinkerbell"... ending with a little parade gathering of 40 people and a downpour, Harvest Days has come and gone another year.
It would have been hard to top last year when we discovered we were pregnant, the Saturday morning of...but it was nice to have Kat here!





Here's looking at you, St. Patrick, you sure seem to like your god-father!
Other photos:
The Kid stuck close to his buddy all weekend, Uncle Warhol worked on Kat being sweeter to him than Tink with One-just being himself and all of us in our yellow Dinger shirts (loved the color Sara, just as much as the bugs did!)

We are already looking forward to next year...when Tink will be healed and full speed ahead and Kat will chasing after her.

Reason #326 that it is easier to be the daddy...

...daddy's do not clean scrapes, force meds into mouths or cake on the neosporin. Daddy's rush in and snatch up sick little kids and cuddle them to bits. At least the daddy in this house.
Upon further review, I may be changing my story on the wounds. As the cuts become more pronounced, the swelling subsides and I continue to replay the morning in my mind (please, god, let that stop soon)....I am not entirely sure he actually bit her. I now remember the cat was sitting above her head on the back of the couch. The dog is very protective of 'his Tink' and I wonder if he didn't accidentally claw her with his paw, while going after the cat. The 3 perfect up/down wounds look more like that, than teeth marks.
Unfortunately, Tink is too traumatized to remember and I had my back turned at that second, so we will never know. As a result, we still have a decision to make in regards to the dog, our tiny girls and the safety of the dog around a very frantic Coach.
The dog must stay at my parents for 8 more days and after things have calmed we will decide.
In the mean time, our small town Fall Festival is well under way and my poor Tink is convinced that it begins tomorrow rather than last night. I hope she has a great day of healing and can have a little fun tomorrow. Mommy too....I could use a break from nurse duty.
So for now...happy thoughts: corn dogs, crafts, Ferris wheel and probably the purchase of ANY toy that tiny voice asks for.

This photo contains our drama's main characters...several months ago.

The worst post I hope I ever type.

Wednesday morning just before 9:00am, what has to be the worst hour of my life began. Tink was eating a pop tart on the couch and watching The Incredible's for the 200th time. She was under her Dora blanket and cuddled at her side was her puppy, Desmond. Every morning in our house for the last 16 months this scene has played out. We are creatures of habit; Tink, Desmond and I. We like to ease into the day nice and slow.
For whatever reason this day turned ugly. I got up to start cleaning the kitchen and seconds later I heard a yelp and then a scream (that I hope will stop playing in my head very soon). Tru's dog, her bestest friend, her sleeping companion....bit her face. I cannot say exactly how this happened though I suspect it had something to do with 'a bite for him a bite for her'. Maybe even a little Tink elbow in the dog's back. I know he was not malicious and would never have meant to bite her...he has taken much flak from his owner and has always looked at her with love.
What I saw was too awful to describe and really a dark blur in my mind. I raced to call Coach, my mom, grab Coco from the crib, wrap Tink up and wait at the end of the driveway. Adrenaline is an amazing thing because I have no idea how I organized all that in seconds and even grabbed a diaper bag. I felt my body's urge to pass out, scream or cry and yet I managed to behave like I had a clue.
There was blood everywhere. If you have seen a face injury you are familiar. He cut chunks from her bottom lip in 3 places from lip to skin. It was the most horrific thing I have ever seen. We barged into the doctor without even calling and spent the next 45 minutes listening to our middle child scream as we, plus a nurse held her down. At least 13 stitches later we took our very swollen girl home.
We are extremely grateful to our nurse (who battled tears) and Doctor who looked wrecked by the end. They exclaimed several times that Tink is VERY strong and VERY defiant. Hey, we already know!
After we got her home we immediately had Grandma, Grammy, Flag girl rush to Tink's side. Uncle Commissioner spent his lunch hour picking out a Tinkerbell toy for our girl and Aunt Jackie took Coco while things settled down. In the evening, two fourteen year old boys who barely know Tink, but had the unfortunate luck of being in the Doctor's waiting room to hear the screams...brought over Popsicles as a gift to her. We are reminded how lucky Tink is.
Tink's puppy has been taken to Grammy and Pop pop's home and is being watched over VERY closely by my brother. The vet ran several tests to make sure he was healthy and at this time does not believe Desmond has to be put down, though it is doubtful he will return to our home. I feel awful for him, as well, because I know he would have never meant to harm her. I guess no one can resist a pop tart. (Bad joke?)
Tink has been doing well. Not eating and exhausted from the trauma but she smiled a very sad and crooked smile at her Tinkerbell present and new pajamas from Grammy.
Last night as the energy finally drained from my body I asked Coach if this would be the worst day we ever experienced as a parent... he hoped so. Ditto.
If you are so inclined,
please pray for our tiny Tink's beautiful smile.


Update: It is nearing bed time and we had a very good day. We saw the plastic surgeon who exclaimed that he could not have stitched her any better himself. We left in great spirits. We stopped for a very brief visit while we held her and let her see Desmond from a distance...telling her that he apologized. She was timid but said "Dat my Desmond, he come home". Probably not, but we are hopefully mending some of the damage. She has eaten a peanut butter sandwich, taken all her meds and declared that "Tink need to go to carnival this weekend". Whatever you say baby, mommy and daddy will buy you a Mockingbird!

Question

Does anyone have a friend right now that is infected with the 'run of the mill old fashioned flu'? I'd like to make out with them for a few minutes. I am having trouble losing these last few baby pounds.
I don't need the fancy Mexican flu or anything. Just plain old 'no appetite for Oreos and eggos' kind of flu.
Let me know.

Something to think about

While watching the open of the MTV awards with the kids, (Yes, slowly take that in....their dad was working and I figured the kids could use a little culture.) we prepared for Janet Jackson to start a tribute to Michael. This conversation took place as she began her number.

The Kid: Is that Janet Jackson?
Me: Yes
The Kid: Are you sure because I think it looks like Michael Jackson.
Me: They are brother and sister. They look alike.
The Kid: But I think they may be the same person, because he looks like a girl and she kinda looks like a boy.
Me: They are not the same person, she is his sister.
The Kid: Are you sure he is dead? Because they look like the same person.

I'm thinking this conversation has taken place many times before. Maybe this is how Elvis sightings started. Soon after that, I flipped it to the Bears game.

When I picked The Kid up from school the next day, he told me that his friends at lunch said Lady GaGa stabbed herself while she sang. I said those kids should have been in bed. End of explanation.
He has to be in 5th grade to discuss Lady GaGa. Culture needs some guidelines.

New hit song.

This morning Tink and I prepared to take a shower together. After we had undressed and while I was preparing the towels and shower...Tink made up a song. Words written to the tune of Beyonce's Single Ladies. Hum it in your head for a minute...

Mine butt is little, huh huh huh
You butt is big,
Mine butt is little, huh huh huh
Mommy butt is big, big, big, big, big
Mine little
You's biiiiiiggggg!

During that final line she then spanked me with both hands, cuz obviously one hand couldn't cover the girth of her song topic.
I took her abuse without a word and then silently planned my revenge. One evening, 28 years from now, I will have my grand daughter, Tink Jr, over for a slumber party. I will first butter her up with small gifts and maybe a blizzard. While she is loving her Grammy with all her little heart, I will teach Tink Jr a little song I learned a long time ago, to the tune of Beyonce's Single Ladies.

Side note: Maybe it's time to jump on the band wagon and start P90X.

Recap

The bride was so VERY beautiful.
Weddings by the windmill should happen more often.
My husband and I matched too well and should never do that again.
The cake was excellant. (and I know cake)
Being around Munchkin for even a few moments makes us both smile.
Have 3 young kids in your thirties makes you old and tired.

What will we do?

This evening we have a wedding for one of Coach's close friends.
For the second time in four months all three children are staying the night at Grammy's.
Which means:
Kat will have to get by with a bottle instead of her quiet, late night nursing.
Tink will have to snuggle herself in bed without her mommy to sing her bed time song.
The Kid will share a bed with Tink and miss his good night kiss from mom and dad.
If any one of them wakes up in the middle of the night, they will be have to be comforted by a Grammy instead of a mommy.

Did I almost convince you that I was upset by all that??
Cuz really, I'm not....grown up night here we come!!
Showering, putting on make up, talking to adults, dancing with my husband, sleeping uninterrupted all night!

Sure, I may miss them a tiny little bit, but mostly....grown up night!!
Good luck Grammy and Pop pop, we won't be thinking of you...

Do you think...

...that Dane Cook wants to be my boyfriend?

Does anyone have his number?
I don't think my husband would mind.

09/09/09

Hey Four...try to pay less attention to your teacher around 9:09am. At that exact time, on this exact day...you will witness a phenomenon that will not happen again in your lifetime or others and especially not on your tenth birthday!
Welcome to your double digits. I wonder if today is hard for your mommy!? You are a special boy with a passion for the Cubs matched only by your dad and god father (actually, your dad may have turned on them a little). Coach, The Kid, Kat and I all love you, but not even comparable to Tink's crush. Thanks for always picking her up every time she 'falls'.
Oh hey, if you miss the clock turning 9:09am...I guess you can check again at 9:09pm.
Have a special birthday on this special day!

Note to my readers: I would love to include a picture of our nephew, unfortunately my computer/Internet/camera all blow. Trust me, he's cute.

One for the baby book.

My tiny Tink just sang nearly all the words to her first Beatles song. Sure, she can shout out 'I Want to hold Your Hand', sway appropriately to the greatness of 'Hey Jude' and can obviously figure out 'Hello, Good bye'. But to sing most of 'Yellow Submarine'....I nearly cried. Screw being able to use a toilet, this is an accomplishment a parent can really be proud of.

As we live a life of ease
Every one of us has all we need
Sky of blue and sea of green
In our yellow submarine

My hope for you:

Yesterday Coco was baptized. We chose to give her 3 god mothers. An unconventional move and a tiny bit confusing to some but we loved this idea. We chose 3 special women we love, who were important to our lives and will be influential in her life. All 3 of these women have unique traits that combined, give Coco something to emulate while growing into a woman.
Doc, Flag girl and Duff's wife. (who right now does not have a cute nick name!)
Coco's older sister Tink has plenty of confidence and spunk, actually she could maybe scale back a touch. My hope for Coco is that she shares this and more.
Coco my hope for you:
Is that you are a strong woman, full of spirit. I hope your beauty is matched by your heart. I hope your intelligence allows you not only a brilliant career but the ability to carry a smart and witty conversation. I want your personality to be strong, unique and shine every time you walk into a room. I hope you stand proud.. never timid, have perfect posture and carry yourself with grace. I hope you are a reader like your Grammy, have strong faith like both your GiGi's and have the desire to mother many like your Grandma. (Because I will LOVE being a Grammy). I hope you never wear too much make up, your hair is more manageable than Tink's and you wear that aqua color again, because you are beautiful in it! Dance often, smile more than your mom, take a great photograph and sing too loud when you drive.
All of your God mothers have sisters they adore. I hope so very much that you and Tink follow in this example. I hope you are friends, who are just as excited for the other's accomplishments as if they were your own and call each other just to chat and never out of obligation.
I love you so very much. Seeing you dressed up with your new jewelry made my heart soar. You have completed my family. I was waiting for you, my baby, to finish my perfect trio.

Chew on this...

Several less advanced countries such as Cuba, India and many located in Africa and South America have their children completely potty trained by the age of 18 months.
I believe this has less to do with lack of pampers or indoor plumbing and more to do with overpowering the children before they are able to shriek phrases like:
No danks!
I can't!
No say dat to me!
No do dat potty!
No me a big girl!
No do dis to me!
And the VERY rarely attempted technique employed at her most desperate hour late into the afternoon and 6 hours into 'holding it'....
Mom, come close to me....Mom, I lobe you....Mom, pwease no more potty...Mom, pwease gibe me candy. (Followed by a lip pucker for a kiss). If you know Tink you are aware she NEVER and I mean NEVER will give an unsolicited kiss.
This would have worked on Dad.
And to all of you mothers who swear the naked approach works...how many of you had a puddle under your brand new covered kitchen chairs?
All that sad:
Tink has peed on potty 4 times this morning!! (she had plenty stored up)I am going to win!!
If winning means that it all happened on her time table, when she said go and after she stains everything in my house. Still, I am winning!

I'm going to break her....Part Deux

Tink peed on floor.
Eleven stops over. Spots the potty in the middle of the room. Goes about sitting on it and getting both her business done.
Tink's reaction, pure excitement and joy for her cousin. Claps her hands, jumps up and down, praises her and runs to fetch her some TP.
Eleven swept up in the excitement asks me for candy (something I'm sure she is not still receiving at home for every potty) but in this house...always. Also, a great opportunity to teach my candy lover a lesson.
Open the drawer and dramatically hand Eleven a big Hershey's kiss. Tink and Eleven shaking in excitement of chocolate. Tink extends her hand...
Mom: No candy. You went potty on the floor. Eleven is a big girl and went in potty.
Tink (SHOCKED!): No say dat to me! I can't potty. I want candy! I can't!
Eleven walks arrogantly out the door with grandma.
Tink: Bring dat candy back!
Grandma leans in for kiss good bye...good luck....totally denied.
They walk away.
Tink shrieking: Bring dat candy back! Mine candy!
Mom: You need to go in potty.
Tink: NO SAY DAT TO ME!!!
Runs away.
Score four hours into training.
Eleven: 1
Tink: 0
All carpet located under Tink: -1
Spot Bot carpet cleaner warmed up and ready to go.
PS- Commissioner please come clean out this potty your daughter used.

I'm going to break her....

...like a tiny pony who is mean and sometimes bites your ankles.
I have put this off all summer (due to the newborn) and waited an extra week for the Chicago trip. I was not going to take her into any random Chicago bathroom. I prepped the Doctor to give her a big lecture this week and we were to Wal-mart to buy a new seat for the big potty, in addition to her own potty.
The time has come. I am going to potty train Tink. Mind you she is the eldest of the 5/6 friends and cousins all born in her school year. Each has been trained in front of Tink, with her leaning over to watch and then clapping proudly at their accomplishments. She is very excited for Eleven and her progress and happily took Eleven's left over pull ups without a tiny dent in Tink's pride. Sure Tink has done both deeds herself in the potty, randomly and at her own accord. Calling Grammy and Dad to demand a candy bar or toy. She wakes up in the morning dry and has played several 'who can blink first' games with me, staying on the potty up to 57 minutes (I timed) without completing the assignment. But I say, NO MORE.
In one short hour this morning the following dialog as taken place, (Picture the cutest little voice on full scream):
Tink: No put dat pink potty on daddy's toe-it!
Tink: No take my diaper off
Mom: It is time to be a big girl like Eleven. Is Tink a baby or big girl?
Tink: Stop say dat to me!! (Finger point, feet stomping)
Tink: No me a big girl!
Tink then stomps into her bedroom to find her own clean diaper and opens it on the floor, sitting down on it and crossing arms.
I put potty in living room in front of TV.
Tink: No put dat potty in here!
Finally, sits on potty. 30 min later, still nothing. Maybe I should take off the soft comfy seat. Make it more old fashioned, not soft enough to recline back and watch cartoons.
I can't really blame her. Who wouldn't prefer to watch 3 hours of morning TV, clutching your chocolate milk and never pausing for a restroom break?
One hour and 15 min passed, still in the buff....still nothing.
Who do we think is more stubborn and more mean? Me or Tink? This will just be the first of MANY battles her and I will face. Imagine wardrobe, dates, smart mouth...I have allot riding on Kat to be the sweet one.
And yes...that is what her hair looks like in the AM. Actually, that looks pretty good.

Earth mother, Irresponsible or Chicken?

This morning we trudged all 3 children to the Doctor's office for check ups/stitches removal. Before entering we once again discussed our debate. When The Kid was a baby I got all of the shots I was told he HAD to have because he would never be able to get into school without them. I never felt comfortable with the shots, what they contained and hated every second of it. When Tink was born I did a few shots until she had a reaction. Shortly after, I saw Jenny McCartney on Oprah (I'll pause for your eye roll) heard her version, have done a little research and have decided to at least 'hold off' on future shots. (Because, really, who doesn't take parenting advice from Jenny McCartney!) My doctor has never talked me out of this decision but I am heavy with guilt every time I say "Let's skip immunizations again today".
Side note: Their dad is on board with the maybe we should/maybe we shouldn't. I told him he could make the final decision as long as he was the parent to hold the girls while the shots went in....he decided he was also against immunizations. Tough guy.
You may also wonder if children who visit the doctor but do not get shots are still rewarded with Dairy Queen...in this family: Hell yea.
Summary of the remainder of my day: we finished our fast food, drove The Kid back to school after giving him an extra hour of skip time, nursed the baby in the Wal-mart parking lot, bought heart healthy items such as Cinn Toast Crunch (which now has multi grains) and fat cheese puffs, Earth friendly items such as diapers and plastic Colgate 360 brushes at $3 a pop then drove the 20 min back to town (because, no Commissioner, I did not shop locally), unloaded and then drove 3 blocks to pick the kid up from school.
In conclusion: Earth mother...doesn't look like it. Irresponsible...I'd like to think no, I did buy the Colgate 360. Chicken...probably the likely answer. Have you seen how tiny Tink's legs are and how thick that needle is??