Do the Potty Wheeze!

*Warning, the following post contains parental content, by which I mean that I am a parent and as such, there are times when I have to talk about my kid's poop. Sorry, that's just the way it is. If you don't want to hear about it, feel free to stop reading now.*

So I'm sick, as I may have mentioned. Yesterday I lost my voice completely and developed a really impressive gasping, painful kind of wheeze that had me propped up with pillows and stealing hits off of an inhaler prescribed for Eden ages ago and never used until now. This morning the breathing is better, but I still nestled my ass firmly on the couch after delivering Skylar to school and let Eden entertain herself by terrorizing the cats and eating handfuls of dry Lucky Charms from the box.

This system worked pretty well for us for an hour or two, until Eden came over to me yelling "Mommy, Mommy. Poop!" and making the "change diaper" sign with her hands. So I dragged my heavy carcass off of the couch and headed upstairs to the change table. I shoved off the cat (who was hiding from Eden) and unsnapped her diaper to find...nothing. It took my fever addled mind a while to process this. WTF child? There is no poop at all, why did you make me get up? Then a totally outlandish idea occurred to me.
"Eden, do you have to poop?" I rasped. "Do you want to poop on the potty?"
She nodded at me in her grave, wide-eyed way.
"OK, OK hang on!" I whispered.

Now, this kid has been utterly uninterested in the whole potty training scene. She has never made the slightest tinkle in the potty and looks rather scandalized and affronted when we suggest it. The potty has been sitting in the bathroom for months, but seeing as how she used to cry at the sight of it, it became more of a secondary towel rack. I flung the towels off of it and sat Eden down.
"OK, big girl" I croaked "Go ahead, make poo poo in the potty"
"Mama potty" She commanded, pointing at the toilet. So I sat.
"No, no pants!" Fine. I'll sit on my potty, you sit on yours. Will you please go poop now?

And she did!

Then she stood up, pointed into the pot and proclaimed "EEEWWW!"

Still pretty surprised, I made every effort to cheer and praise, but with the state of my voice it probably came out a little more scary and growly and demonic than happy, and it was punctuated with gasping coughing spells. Perhaps this is how people develop anal complexes. She never cracked a smile, just kept saying "Eew" and waving bye bye to her turd as it swirled down the john.

I (rather optimistically) let her run bare until nap time, but there was no repeat performance. Before nap I tried to put a diaper on her and boy was she ever pissed about that! So I went with a pair of training pants and I've resigned myself to changing the sheets when she gets up.

*Sob* my baby's growing up. And I just bought that Blueberry Minky diaper too!

Day From Hell

Inevitably, after spending a week wiping 4 noses, I'm sick. Being sick always sucks, but after today it's just freaking unfair.

I spent the morning trying to clean up the magnificent mess that accumulated while I was away most of last week. I realized I felt like crap after I put Eden down for her nap, so I told Skylar to put on a video and laid down on the couch with her. I woke up almost four hours later to find that the baby monitor was unplugged and Eden had been awake and bawling for God only knows how long. I ran upstairs to rescue her and changed her dirty diaper and rinsed it out as per usual. As I headed downstairs I wondered where that running water sound was coming from. Was Skylar playing in the sink? No, there she is on the couch. Then where....? Shit, the bathroom pipe is leaking and water is pouring through the ceiling all over the kitchen floor, the fridge and the stove. I set Eden down in the living room and hopped up on a chair to salvage all the miscellaneous crap that lives on top of the fridge and place bowls under the drips.

While I was thus occupied, Eden climbed up onto the kitchen table and threw a glass down to shatter in the large puddle on the floor. I'm convinced she did this deliberately to get back at me for falling asleep and leaving her trapped in her bed. I probably deserved it. When I heard the crash I spun around and saw Eden's fat little naked pink toes dangling over the shard filled puddle as she prepared to dismount the table. I yelled "NO! Stay there!" and lunged for her. She stayed put. I fell off of my chair. Then I faced the age old conundrum: too wet to sweep it up, too much glass to throw a towel on it, this just sucks.

Then we went to Adam's Dad's birthday party. Nothing spectacularly horrendous happened there, but the ride home was tragic. Normally Adam drives when we're together, but tonight he asked me to because his eyes were sore. So I was driving along all peaceful like,when suddenly there were eyes, and a thump.

Me- OhMyGod! What was that?!

Adam (aka Heartless Country Boy)- Dead.

Me-But what WAS it? Was it already dead before?

Adam- I think it was a rabbit. Looked like it was already on it's back. I'm sure it was already dead.

Me- Are you sure? What if it was a cat? Ooooh I hope it wasn't a cat.

Adam- What are you doing?

Me- We have to go back and see!

Adam- Ah Jeeze. What are you gonna do?

Me- See what it was and make sure it's really dead. And maybe see if it was already dead before.

Adam- And if it's alive?

Me- Take it to a vet!

*silence from Adam as he ponders the prospect of transporting a wounded wild animal towards a hefty vet bill*

Me- OhMyFuckingGod IT'S A CAT!!!

Adam- Well it's clearly dead.

Me- No it's not, it moved!

Adam- No it...aw shit, it did. So now what?

Me- Go see! Go see!!

Adam- Alright, alright. OK, it's alive, but it's not going anywhere.

Me- Well, take it up to the house!

Adam- Wha-?

Me- PICK IT UP!

*At this point I will now point out that the cruel jerk did pick up the bloody, squirming kitty with his bare hands and carry it to not one, but 2 farm houses while I sat bawling in the car. I'm sure he thought I'd be happy when he came back and reported that the woman at the second farm thought that it was one of her barn cats and was calling her husband to "see what could be done." He was wrong.*

Me- Who's her husband? Where is he? Can he help it? Is he going to kill it? If it's a barn cat and she's not even sure it's hers, how do we know they'll try to help it? Maybe we should just take it home anyway.

Adam- What are we going to do with a wild cat that likely has broken bones and internal bleeding?

*WTF? Does he not know by now that lying is always the right choice? Seriously, would it have been so hard to say "Yes, it's their cat, and luckily they are veterinary surgeons with their own intensive care unit right there in the barn. They say Fluffy will be right as rain in a couple of days." Even if he WAS actually thinking that the farmer was likely to go over and stomp on the kitty's skull.

Me- I DON'T KNOW!

Then I made Adam drive the rest of the way home while I cried, because I'm pathetic.

March Break Madness

My arm hurts. So does my back, and my neck, and my side. How did I injure myself? I played 20 minutes of Wii sports.
Apparently bowling without a ball, batting without a bat, swinging without a club and tennising without a racket is hard damn work. Oh, and my fitness age?....80!
Yup, I have all the fitness and coordination of the average octogenarian. Nice.

I'm spending this March break babysitting Adam's sister's kids, and I'm thinking I should NOT have more kids. It's not that they're bad kids or anything. It's just that I now have twice the diapers to change, twice the noses to wipe, twice the mouths to feed (and in one case to remove dead flies from. Jesus, the child is like that nut job in Dracula: Bottle-No, dead bugs-Yes!) Nap-times to orchestrate, hands to wash, boots to find, and so on and so forth. And Eden is siiiiick, and Skylar is boooored, and Evan won't shaaaaare, and Jasmine...has another fucking fly, Dammit! Open, come on, spit it out! and...I'm going to bed.

Mother/Daughter time, old-school.

Tomorrow I leave Goober and Mooch with Adam's parents and head off for some good ol' fashioned mother-daughter time, with me reprising my roll as the daughter.
My mom and I are off to Niagara Falls for the weekend. There to sit in a hot-tub, drink some wine, stare at water and NOT do kiddie touristy crap for 2.5 whole days.
The mini-vacation is my mom's somewhat spur of the moment idea (which is one of the reason's I love her) But it has not escaped me that this is the 1 year anniversary of my Grandma's passing and the Falls hold some special memories for us in that regard, so it's likely to be a bit of a bittersweet trip. I'm looking forward to being able to finish whole sentences without interruption, to not planning my day around nap-time, to never having to ask anyone to eat just 2 more bites, and most of all to living 2 whole blessed days without listening to any whining.

Incidentally, did you hear about that guy who survived going over Niagara Falls 2 days ago? Failed suicide attempt. It was on the News. Know what you don't see on the News? All the successful suicide attempts. Two years ago we watched from Table Rock as a body was pulled up from the gorge by a crane. Our friendly tour bus driver told us that it happens 5 or 6 times a year, but it never makes the news because they don't want to encourage people to try to go out with a splash, so to speak. Apparently putting the dead person's name in the paper is like giving in to a toddler's tantrum: It only encourages them. So instead we ignore it. Tourists from all over the world mug for photos (Have you ever noticed that no matter what language people are speaking they ALL say "cheese!" when a camera is pointed at them?) with the Horseshoe falls, or the everlasting rainbow, or the yellow body box suspended by a wire in the background. It's kind of surreal. People crane their necks a little as they walk by, maybe they even put a few coins in the binocular thingies so their kids can get a better look, but then they go about their happy vacations with smiles on their faces and a few more cool photos to show the family when they get home.

Oh, and speaking of death and Niagara Falls (What a happy little trip down memory lane this post is turning out to be!) The most disturbing thing I've ever seen at a family tourist destination is the delightful street exhibit right next to the Dairy Queen on Clifton Hill, where for just 2$ you can push a button and execute a man. Because if anything can keep little kids entertained while waiting in line for ice cream, it's the sight of a very realistic mannequin strapped to an electric chair with a sack over his head, screaming and thrashing around violently, complete with flashing lights and smoking ears. That's good wholesome family fun, well done tourism board, bravo.

My Hero

Eden: Dude, you're upside down. That is the coolest thing I've ever seen.
Skylar: Yes, I rock. Feel free to bask in my glory.


Eden: How is this accomplished? This doesn't seem quite right.
Skylar: Nice try, Idiot.


Skylar: Here, need a little manual assistance?
Eden: Fuckin' A!

Skylar: I'm gonna let go now, try not to break your neck, m'k?
Eden: Best. Day. Ever!

Eden: TA DA! We kick ass.
Skylar: And next I'll let you eat the goldfish crumbs my hair picks up while I'm down here.

It could happen to anyone, with a penis.

So that guy in Saskatchewan who left his babies to freeze to death in a snow storm got 3 years. Nice. Apparently getting loaded while you're responsible for a 3 year old and a 1 year old and taking them outside in a blizzard, wearing nothing but diapers and t-shirts and fucking loosing them and only remembering that you have offspring 8 hours later, by which time they have died what must have been a terrifying and painful death, is the kind of tragic accident that could have happened to anyone. Sure. So long as it's the father we're talking about. Of course had it been a mother there would have been outcries of "Heartless Monster! Lock her up for life!"

What is the deal? In our modern world of paternal involvement why are men still held to standards so much lower than women when it comes to the death of a child? We claim that men and women are equally responsible for their progeny but yet more often than not men still get shafted when it comes to custody arrangements. I suppose it's a logical trade off really. Men get the larger child support payments and shorter visitations, but if they should happen to kill their children they are more likely to get off with a slap on the wrist because, well obviously, men just don't have the maternal knack.

Mothers aren't allowed to make mistakes. When a child dies in it's mother's care she is a despicable baby killer. Possibly she's deranged by post-partum, in which case she's still a monster, but at least she's a crazy monster. Possibly she's a negligent, selfish bitch. Possibly she's an abusive crack whore. Rarely is she a decent woman who made a forgivable mistake.

Fathers, on the other hand, get second chances. That guy became a father again earlier this year, and the mother stands by him. He will have another chance to prove himself a worthwhile human being, as he will be out of jail by the time this new baby is as old as her sister was when she died.

Everyone makes mistakes, some minor and some major, and I personally believe that everyone deserves a second chance, but everybody should have to face the consequences of their actions to an equal degree. The double standard lives on and adds to the obvious fact that gender equality has not yet been achieved.

Not the brightest Crayon in the box.

As you have no doubt noticed, my English is fairly lax. I certainly won't claim that this blog has been free from errors when it comes to spelling, punctuation, sentence structure and so on, but here's the thing: I'm doing this for my own personal amusement. It's not like it's my job to teach people to read or anything.

Every month Skylar's Kindergarten teacher sends home a newsletter, and every month the back of my neck scrunches up and my fingers itch to grab a big red pen and correct the hell out of that sumbitch and send it back in to school. I restrain myself because I don't want this person to know what a bitch I am and somehow take it out on my kid, so instead I think I will do some virtual editing. The following are some excerpts from the most recent newsletters. Bear in mind they are being written by a TEACHER not a student, and even though it's a french immersion class, English IS this woman's native tongue. The black will be direct quotations, the red is me.

February

We have enjoyed a wonderful month of January. We had lots of sunny days and studied penguins. Perhaps: January has been a wonderful month. Why the hell are sunny days and penguins in the same sentence? They HAD studied penguins? Maybe leftover penguins from some research facility were shipped in and served to the children at a BBQ on one of those sunny days?

We will be having a card exchange opportunity. That's a cheerful way to trade Valentines. Attached are a simple card template Just one IS attached.

The celebration's will take place on Feb.....celebrations

Anyone who would like to join us is more then welcome! Anyone? Really? Grandparents, cousins, the pedophile down the street? Sure! Anyone is more THAN welcome.

March

Everyday children receive a choice of three healthy items first thing in the morning. The everyday children get a choice, the special ones have to eat whatever they're given.

...the students have been asked to give something up for 24 hours. They have been asked to find a $2.00 sponsor to do so. The sponsor has to give something up? AND pay 2$? What a rip off!

Micheal Mitchell is coming to our school...He is a famous Canadian Musician. This one's not technically incorrect, it's just a lie. If he were really famous she wouldn't have to tell us who he is. Can you name me a Micheal Mitchell song? No, didn't think so.

And last but not least I will copy the entire paragraph under the rather ironic heading "Literacy" Anyone who can spot all the mistakes gets a gold star.

Literacy

The past few months, as we read stories, we would always ask good questions. Questions, help children develop their comprehension skills and strategies. Often, Kindergarten students ask "I wonder..." questions before turning the page. Try this at home when reading stories together. We will be continuing with questions, but also beginning to study visualizing. An more simpler way to explain this concept to young children, is to play a CD story (or read a story without looking at the pictures) and have them create a DVD (or the movie) in their mind. The students have enjoyed comparing their mental pictures as we have started developing this skill.

Take THAT English!

And now for some pictures that have nothing to do with this post but, you know ...cuuuute.

Elmo diaper! Gah! The cuteness, it burrrrrns!