A Popsicle in the Potty!?

In a rather lazy parenting moment, I told the kids (a.k.a. bribed) that they could each have a popsicle as soon as they came in the house for their baths. They quickly said goodbye to the neighbors and came running.

I doled out the freezer pops. As soon as I opened Chris', he walked to the bathroom and informed me he really had to go. Nice. Even though it grossed me out, I let him take the popsicle with him. I wasn't that interested in holding it or in setting on the counter while it melted as he, um, used the toilet.

I should have let it melt.

Not long after he entered the bathroom, I heard him yell that his popsicle was in the potty. I was on the phone with my mother-in-law, so I somewhat slowly made my way to help him.

Imagine my thoughts as I opened the door and saw him EATING a green popsicle. Yeah.

I shrieked and then yelled for Tony to please come help me because I thought I might be sick.

Now, imagine my relief when I learned that that green popsicle was not the same one that fell in the potty with his "stinky."

Whew! Close call.

You never know what might happen around here.

That Little Man of Mine

I've tried starting this post a half dozen different ways. Each time I start, I worry that what I'll write will disrespect my son.

You see, he has been a bit of a challenge lately. Yet, even in the midst of our toughest days, there are sweet, sweet moments.

I can get so caught up in the training of my children that I forget to enjoy the journey.

Right now, something that I don't want to forget is the way my little guy says goodbye to me.

Anytime I drop him off somewhere he says, in that deep little voice of his, "Mom, I give you a kiss." Sometimes he forgets and begins to play with a friend, but then he'll catch himself and turn around and run to me and give me that kiss.

It is a powerful kiss. It has the ability to erase a morning or even a day full of whining and tantrums. It reminds me that this mommy job is well worth the sweat and tears.

I know there will likely come a day where he won't kiss me goodbye every time he leaves me. Until then, I savor each of his kisses, even the "elephant" ones.

Another Proud Parenting Moment

Tomorrow is trash day. I realized this as I walked by Ann's stained flower pillow. It isn't machine washable.

She was already in bed.

Do you see where I'm going with this?

I tossed the pillow into the already full trash can. The hot pink pillow was hanging out of the lid while I finished cleaning up the kitchen.

I wasn't too concerned that Ann would see it since she hardly ever gets out of bed once we've put her to bed.

Bet you can still see where I'm going with this.

Yup. Tonight, she came downstairs to complain of a leg ache.

As she was telling me her leg hurt, she glanced in the direction of the trash can.

Busted!

She asked me what her pillow was doing in the trash. I knew I couldn't lie, but how could I tell the truth? I mean what kind of mother throws her daughter's semi-special pillow in the trash just because she doesn't want to hand wash it?

So, I did the only thing I could think of. I looked at her with a puzzled expression that hopefully looked like I was just as confused as her. Then, I grabbed it out of the trash can and brushed it off.

I handed it to her while trying to not think about all of the germs that might now be on her pillow. Oh well, perhaps she'll build her little immune system while she dreams.

Yikes!

This evening, we were all in the van on the way to a church picnic. We'd been in the van for all of two minutes before Ann had a question.

"Mom, how did I get in your tummy when I was a baby?" She asked.

Excuse me!

My helpful hubby simply said to me, "I'll let you get this one."

Thanks.

I giggled nervously (not unlike I probably did during sex ed back in grade school) and asked her what her question was again.

Of course, she repeated the same question.

"How do you think you got there?" I asked.

"God put me there," she answered.

"That's right," I said.

Close call! I'm hoping that answer will be good enough for a bit longer. She is, after all, only four and a half!

No Wonder They're Always Hungry

I would be too if I only ate the insides of the bread and wore more peanut butter than I ate!

Also, I do believe that it is worth noting that when little Jane made this mess, she somehow managed to avoid her hair. Her hair is usually what she uses for a napkin, so I was surprised to see it so clean after a meal.

Happy Monday! Hope your belly is full and your face is clean. (Or something like that!)