The baby did it!

I am always amazed at how it is never anyone's fault when something happens at my house. Today I was folding laundry in the basement when I heard Mark lecturing my children. I had to go upstairs to see what was going on.

When I got upstairs, Mark was giving Micah a hard time about scratching a bunch of lines into our nicest leather chair in the living room. As he is speaking, Christina was looking REALLY guilty. I was about to interrupt until I heard Micah replay, "I don't do it--baby do it!"

Mark looked confused, "Did you say that the baby did it." Isaiah, with his plump self, was watching the whole scene unfold. When Micah pointed him out, he looked as innocent as could be.

"There is no way that Isaiah put these scratches in the chair!" I had to laugh. Whenever I get upset with the kids, Elena is the first to say that she didn't do something. Then, Christina always says that Micah must have done it. Now, Micah is blaming the baby. Who's next? The cat? I guess she is the only one left for Isaiah to blame--once he is old enough to blame someone.

I promptly gave Christina up. Mark said that when I suggested that Christina, with her guilty face, did i--he realized that the scratches in the chair were a design that Micah could not yet make. She got in trouble, but I joking had to pick up Isaiah and tell him that there were rules in the house that we all have to follow, and he is not the exception, even if he is only 10 months old!

When we were your age, Pluto was a planet

Last night Elena was telling me and Mark about the 53 caterpillars that the second graders have at her school. She told us that about half of them are hanging out in their chrysalides (I just found out that is the plural for chrysalis). After she told us about the caterpillars, Mark was quiet for a moment and then he said, "Do you even know what a cocoon is?"

I smiled. I was thinking the same thing as Elena was giving us her very scientific run down. She looked and him and explained, "A cocoon is very similar to a chrysalis, but caterpillars spin chrysalises." (Okay, she didn't get the plural exactly right, but it sounded official to us.)

Mark replied, "Back when we were kids, they were called cocoons."

I absentmindedly added, "Yeah, and when we were your age Pluto was a planet."

Elena looked shocked. "I thought that people thought Pluto was a planet a way long time ago. WOW."

I had to chuckle. I just turned 32 on Sunday. I guess 32 is the new old.

He pulled my hair first!

This blog is somewhat of a flashback, but I was reminded of this incident yesterday.

A few months ago, when Christina was just breaking her thumb sucking habit, she was an emotional wreck. Apparently, thumb sucking was her main coping mechanism. She was a real *joy* that first week.

Well, one day that week Christina, Isaiah and I were hanging out in my bedroom. They were playing together and I was folding clothes. Isaiah (about 7 months old at the time) grabbed Christina's hair and yanked it. Now, I'm sure what happened next had to be an impulsive reaction--Christina reached over and yanked his hair back.

Isaiah started screaming. I looked at Christina, "What did you do that for?"

"He pulled my hair first." She said it as matter-of-fact as possible.

This is one of those moments when I really want to say something really sarcastic, but I know that by doing so I might cause my child emotional harm and I'll hear stories for the rest of her life about having to go to a therapist, so I bit my tongue. All I said was, "He's just a baby. He doesn't know that he pulled your hair."

Cue watery eyes. I think she thought about what she did. Then she looked at her brother, who was still screaming as I cuddled him. All of the sudden, the most blood-curdling wail came from her mouth. She proceeded to throw the most dramatic crying fit ever.

I am not kidding--Christina threw herself from the bed to the floor and started the biggest temper tantrum/crying fit since she was 2 years old. I was speechless. I mean, she literally hadn't had a temper tantrum in about 3 years, and I was watching her throw one on my bedroom floor. It was so dramatic that Isaiah stopped crying and looked down to watch it. After about a minute she took her thumb and started rubbing it on her cheek. It seemed to calm her down a little bit.

At that point I knew that we were going to have to work on learning some coping mechanisms. During that long month she spent a lot of time to herself trying to find new ways to deal with issues. I had no idea that thumb sucking was such a crutch. (I've been lucky enough to only have 1 thumb sucker out of my 4 kids.)

She managed to survive the month thumb free, but now she's starting to revert 2 months later. I think I need to find a more effective substitute for thumb sucking. If you have any ideas, please let me know! I really don't want to deal with that drama again.

You did WHAT in the front yard?

I am still relatively new on the raising boys scene. Today I realize that the difference is even bigger than I ever imagined...

My son has been potty trained since right before he turned 2. We taught him to sit on the toilet, because he was too short to effectively pee into it. For him it was easy-he has 2 older sisters. It was also easy to keep the bathroom clean. That was until we started to confuse him.

Micah's confusion began In March when we went to Nebraska to visit my mother-in-law. At one point we drove from Omaha to Columbus to visit some family friends. About 4 blocks from our destination, Micah started to cry and yell about how bad he had to go. Mark stopped and as he was pulling Micah out of the car to pee on the side of the road near a farm, I told him I was pretty sure we were almost there. He wasn't so sure, so he insisted on having Micah pee outside. As he was pulling down the little guy's pants, I was looking across one of the farms, sure that I could see their property from the car. Nevertheless, Micah was getting a lesson in peeing standing up.

Once Mark pulled his pants down, he told Micah to pee. He looked down and the ground for a second, then tried to squat. Mark stood him back up and told him, "Just pee like Daddy." Micah gave him a blank look and tried to squat again.

This time when Mark stood him up, he started to cry again. "I go potty real bad," or something like that came from him mouth. I leaned out of the car and told him, "Just hold him in a sitting position."

"What?" Mark said, but looking at the sadness of his son, he decided to hold him. I swear that kid peed a gallon of liquid. Mark even commented how ridiculous it was that that much liquid could come from someone so little. We threw him back in the car and drove the last 2 blocks to our friend's house. Little did we know that we planted a seed in the back of his head.

Last week I went to my favorite consignment store. They had just marked down their left over winter clothing 75%. I was having a shopping good time buying Gap jeans for $1 and $2 and finding great quality winter coats for $7.50, Well, when I was there Micah had to go to the bathroom. I showed him where the bathroom was and continued to shop. All of the sudden I heard crying coming from the bathroom. The pain kind of cry.

I walked over there and another shopping mom said that he was going to the bathroom with the door wide open (big surprise) and she saw him slam his fingers when he closed the toilet lid. I cuddled him and thought nothing more of it. We bought our stuff and left.

Well, once I arrived home, I realized that we were going to have to return to the store. I had forgotten some of my stuff. It's a little bit of a drive to the store so I returned the next day. Once I got there, I found another rack of clothes to go through and began to shop.

Apparently Micah had to go to the bathroom again, but there was no way that he was going on that finger-crushing toilet again. So, he made for the front of the store. About this time, I started counting heads (something you do frequently when you have a lot of kids). I was missing one. I called up to the owner of the shop (this is a laid back, small shop) and asked her if she could see Micah. There was a lady with her grandchild standing in the front of the store. "What does he look like?"

I described him to her and she began to nod her head and pointed out the window, "I think he's peeing outside."

I stopped, horrified, "What did you say?"

"Well, he just pulled his pants down in the front of the store and he's peeing in that little patch of grass in front of the store,"

I put my shopping bag down and walked to the front of the store. Sure enough, Micah was pulling up his pants and walking back in the door. "Please button?" he asked as he pointed to the button on his jeans. I was speechless. Little did I know that was the beginning.

Since last week he has peed twice in the front yard of the house. I kept telling him to stop. I think Mark, although he would tell him to stop, was secretly glad that his boy was finally able to pee like a man. Today was the worst. Today, he was out taking a leak in the front yard, when he realized that he had to poop as well.

First, let me just interject that there is a reason that I am starting to blog after a long absence. Something about dealing with poop makes me have to release my frustration by writing. Hence the address of my blog: poopyday.blogspot.com. Back to my story...

Anyway, Mark had stopped by to grab something out of the garage when he saw his own flesh and blood squat in the front yard and plop his business right on the front walkway. I heard my name being yelled from the front yard and I stepped outside. Mark, in a state of disbelief, told me, "Our son just pooped on the front walk!"

My first reaction was to look around and make sure that no one was around. Thankfully, there were no neighbors out at the time. Next I made Micah get toilet paper and a bag a clean up the mess. Then.... okay, there is no "then." I am completely at a loss on how to deal with a kid who has no qualms with doing his business on the front walkway. Maybe I'll have to blog again once I have that epiphany...