potty training or "not pt"

So after Claire's 6 foot fall from the top bunk onto her back knocking the wind out of her tiny lungs and scaring me to death, splitting her head open and having it glued back together after a fall off the train table, and eating a poisonous flower, which required a call to poison control, I decided toilet training was in the cards...while Claire masterminded plans of her own. She has been telling me every time she poos and pees and makes contorted purplish facial expressions with each evacuation, which with my other two children was the determining factor in their potty training, so I decided the time was nigh. Claire, however is her own creature. Although she has "gone" on the potty, all outcomes have been by accident or with heavy bribing. This child has also discovered the "inform mommy that I need to go potty (to get attention) and for the excitement of the mad dash down the hall while I giggle all the way" power. I toilet train by allowing the children to be naked to discover by seeing and feeling where their excrement comes from and subsequently leaves from. So for our family, while running around, getting ready for our spring break trip, shopping, family dinner, etc. I've needed to be creative. Using a mixture of cloth diapers, underwear, and plastic pants, while we're out, I've come up with a fairly workable alternative to being naked all the time for the first 4 days to one week. Mix that with 15 to 20 minute forced (or suggested) potty breaks and wah...lah...you have a fairly uneventful potty training experience. It seemed to all make sense to me but not to my youngest dear, sweet babe.

Yesterday we needed to go to TJ's to get some snacks for our trip. I put some underwear on Claire with some plastic pants over the top. Upon arrival we immediately made a stop by the potty to make sure we (Claire and I) knew that there was an available potty. Well that was my first mistake. Claire instantly started the wheels turning, trying to figure out how she could use this new found knowledge to her benefit. As soon as I had her buckled into the shopping cart. She looked at me, smiled knowingly and said "BA, BA", which means "potty". I left my cart, Hailey and Anna, and my train of thought and rushed her to the potty. As soon as her little chubby buns hit that cold toilet seat she put her hands above her head, twisting her wrists frantically, which means all done. After pulling up her pants, all the while deflecting little fat fingers from grabbing the trash receptacle, toilet seat, and sanitary napkin depository with lightning speed and washing her hands, I whisked her back to the cart. Buckling her once again and trying to remember why I had left the cart next to the maple syrup, I started to get into my groove of shopping for vacation. I put two items in the cart walked a total of 10 feet when Claire, grinning angelically, looked up at me and said with lips poised, "BA, BA". I again frantically unbuckled her, rushed to the potty, and left my other two children standing wide eyed in the aisle wondering how their baby sister had just gotten away with something they could so easily see through. I again crouched down, pulled her pants to her ankles, and popped her onto the seat. This time I decided to distract her with some songs, finger plays, and body part identification. I said, "where are mommy's eyes"? Claire obliged my request by poking me in the eye. Then I said, "where is mommy's nose"? An inquisitive look furrowed her brow and the corner of her mouth twisted up mischievously. She drew her arm back and slapped me across the face. I was so shocked that I couldn't help but laugh (which I'm sure helped the cause). She then leaned forward and buried her head in my shoulder, sucking her thumb, as if to apologize. After repeating this scenario about 13 more times (minus the slap) throughout the next 20 minutes (and subsequently forgetting 1/2 of my shopping list) I checked out and loaded children and groceries into the car. As soon as all children were buckled in Claire said "BA, BA". I should have said "wait until we get home", but to a 19 month old? So I unloaded all the kids took them into the bathroom and put Claire on the potty. She dripped a few drops and then signed "all done". Hailey then informed me that she needed to use the facilities for a rather lengthy endeavor. I was perturbed, but obliged the request to turn and face the wall picking up and holding Claire. As I stood there staring at the wall and contemplating the bathroom paint color I felt warm all of a sudden and realized that as I held my youngest baby in my arms the warm feeling became wet (Claire's underwear/plastic pants combo didn't quite work). Since instead of paper towels TJ's has eco-friendly hand dryers I searched the cabinet for something to clean up the pee on the floor and off my Danskos. I made a mitt of toilet paper, mopped the floor, walked to the car with wet pants (Claire and I), and changed the baby. I drove home with wet pants, walked into the house with arms loaded with groceries and a pant-less baby, thinking of the moment I could change and be comfortable. The phone rang as I entered the house and it was my glorious husband calling for me to come and get him. As I loaded the car with the kids to go retrieve my husband (his bike had broken earlier that day and so he was stranded) the kids giggling and cheering to see daddy, I thought...I wouldn't trade this life....and after we picked Mark up Claire went wee, wee, wee all the way home.

Be careful where you leave your bag of puke ...or how to fling poop on your Mother in Law's ceiling

So first the poo...Our family decided to visit and stay a night with my husband's father and step mother on the way home from our New Year's festivities. Upon arrival we enjoyed some libation, and began to feel fairly at ease. My step-mother-in-law told me that she had printed some Can cans for me and they were on the counter. For a moment I was perplexed wondering how a "can can" could be on a counter when it was something you do as part of a dance routine. I then realized she was actually referring to a "ken ken", which is a math game similar to Soduko. Wanting to impart all of my dancing knowledge I informed her that she was mistaken and that this was actually a "can can", at which point I started kicking my legs high into the air while at the same time "singing" daah daah dut dut dut dut daah daah, dut, dut, dut, dut, daah daah...). As one of my elegant kicks reached it's pinnacle, a noticed a bit of debris shoot off the end of my perfectly pointed toe and adhere to the vaulted ceiling. Upon closer scrutiny, while squinting my eyes at a point above my head, I tried to identify the origin and type of matter that had been flung from my flawless foot. I then glanced down at the floor and noticed a small mound of brownish turds. I was just the tiniest bit, HORRIFIED. We assumed it to be cat feces, seeing that there were 3 of the little monsters in the house, but, alas, as it turned out, all of the incident fell upon our (my) shoulders. You see our youngest pint size cherub had crapped herself and most of the aforementioned doo-doo had shot out the side of her diaper, cascaded down her leg, and had been spread quite methodically it seems around the interior of my in-laws home. So if anyone should ever need someone to write an instruction manual on "How to adhere shit to your stepmother-in-laws ceiling", I'm the woman for the job.

The second incident goes a lil sumpin like dis: (1st equation) Road from Waldport to Philomath= Hailey car sick...we took the road from Waldport to Philomath on the way home from the coast because we were headed to a birthday party outside of Alsea. Just as we finished the last set of corners Hailey says, "mom I can't wait, I'm going to puke". Mark found the first place he could to pull over, while in the meantime I handed Hailey a paper bag to barf in (2nd equation) Paper bag+vomit=gigantic stinky mess. Hailey began spewing at the exact moment Mark pulled over and as she finished up we began to wonder what to do with our little package of stomach excrement. Having no plastic bags (later I realized we did) our thought processes became frenzied as the life of the bag was nearing it's end (this is one of those situations where marital bliss turns into marital screeching). Not wanting to litter but having no immediate plethora of options we left the bag near some mailboxes and in a rainbow of gravel fled feeling as though we had gotten away with some hugely evil crime. As we drove on, chuckling maniacally I realized I couldn't remember where my friends lived. As soon as we were within range of a tower and I had coverage, I called them and asked for directions. They told us the name of the road and as I spoke it out loud, Mark started making some very odd animal choking noises. As I hung up the phone, Mark informed me that much to our chagrin we would be returning to our very distasteful and smelly crime scene. So next time you invite us to a party beware...we may leave a very lovely housewarming gift under your mailbox.

meningitis....really?

So, long story short, massive pulsating jarring headache, neck pain, hospital, admitted, poke, vein no likey likey, poke some more, new I-V site, poke some more, feeling like a guinea pig, no communication or information, you can't see your kids, no nurse comes even though light is on for 45 minutes, you can go home, you can't, we don't know what you have, you can see your kids, you can't, I-V site swells, push nurse button, no nurse comes, red lines streaking up my arm from I-V site, still no nurse, poke some more, I refuse 3rd I-V site, they dangle "you can see your kids if you let us pump you full of just one more bag of antibiotic poison", I agree, Doctor sticks head in door, you can go home, no ibuprofen, never see doctor again, get dressed I-V still in my hand, step into hall, thrust I-V apparatus into a passing nurses face who says "OMG" and pushes me back into the room, nurse starts to take it out, I wince, she says "there's no needle it shouldn't hurt", unsaid "you big faking baby", in shock ask what do I do if headache returns?, nurse shrugs shoulders says "your a mystery", smirky forced smile, thrusts paper, I sign, walks us down, See ya unsaid "wouldn't wanna be ya". Anyway after all of this lovely treatment I went to my primary care physician on Monday. He said I had viral meningitis. It was the hospitalists final diagnosis upon discharge (boy that would have been nice to know). It may take up to 4 weeks to recover fully and I'm trying to take it easy. Mark has his resectomy tomorrow and so the kids, I think are on their own. Hailey's seven. She can forage for food for her and her two younger sibs right?

After yesterday, I was exhausted. Work, play date, pick H up from school, soccer practice, grocery shopping, picked up pictures, dropped item at friends' house, = couch, which I laid on for about an hour while I ignored the children. This lovely Men kicked my ass (Isn't that what they all do). I finally hauled my butt up to check on Claire and she was on top of the BUNK BED. She can't walk but can climb a ladder? huh? The kids were starved at this point and it was all I could do to cook a meal. Mark didn't get home until 7:00 and then the water works began. Poor guy. Works his butt off and comes home to a sobbing wife. Just what every husband wants to welcome them home after a hard day of work.
Today I took Anna and Claire to Jamba Juice for a fun outing and to get out of the house. Claire tolerated me feeding her from a spoon for about 10 bites and then squealed and in one motion ripped the straw out of the top of the plastic cup sending peach paradise careening through the air in an arch of all things healthy. The lovely concoction landed in my hair and glopped down onto my sweater. Boy was it fun!! Maybe peach paradise is as beneficial to your hair as they stuff down your throat advertise that it's good for your body.

More puking...Really?

So while Mark was still gone, more puking ensued. We drove to Bend to visit some very amazing friends. Hailey and Anna had horse back riding lessons and when I arrived I was told that a horse was available for me to ride also. I checked with Grandma Lois and Kristina to see if they would mind watching Claire. They were glad to oblige. As we began our trail ride, I looked over to make sure the baby was okay. I saw two women bending over the stroller and looking up in my direction every once in a while with what I perceived to be concerned looks. As we made our way back and were close enough for me to yell if everything was okay I was shocked to hear "Claire puked". As we dismounted I found my baby and snuggled her. After putting her in her seat and leaving the horse ranch, Claire began whimpering. I thought her puking might be a fluke because Hailey's puking was 72 hours passed, but alas it wasn't. About 5 minutes from our hostesses house Claire barfed up undigested scrambled eggs and sweet sickening smelling cantaloupe. Oh my favorite...another dismantlement of a car seat. Taking apart these car seats is on par with doing a colon polyp surgery without the knowledge of a polyp or a colon. Claire then didn't sleep well until we returned home 4 days later. I greeted Mark with all the love a sleep deprived, puke exhausted, tired of kids in general mom could muster. I felt like punching him right in the face but then my rage faded to uncontrollable sobbing. He looked so bewildered as to why I was mad at him and sometimes to this day still shakes his head in disbelief at my adamant refusal to allow anymore 10 day trips...he should read my blog...Right?

watch out for those babies...

So I once heard that if you have a child under two, you are on suicide watch whenever they are awake. I thought this was a strange comment until I started to pay attention to what Claire did and how often I "saved her" from herself. This morning Claire was playing in my room with the curtains. Anna came in and said,"no, Claire". Now this baby is my tantrum kid and does not like hearing the word "no" directed at her. She flung herself on the floor, connecting with a sickening thwack, her head with the nightstand. Instantly she had a purple/blue/greenish egg on her forehead and started screaming. I comforted her and shortly after placed her in the high chair for breakfast. Her sister was feeding her blueberries and decided it might be fun to slip her an over sized grape, about 4 times bigger than the norm. It instantly lodged in her throat and I had to do the finger sweep. 30 minutes later, I was taking a shower with the baby in her bath chair. I closed my eyes to rinse my hair and heard her coughing and choking. I instantly looked down at the baby who was pouring the entire contents of the pitcher we use to rinse the kids' hair, on her face, trying to drink it. My eyes began to burn from the soap running into my eyes, which I tried to ignore to save my child. My idea of heaven?...those 5 instantly quiet seconds you get when you shut the door after buckling the kids in and you can no longer hear their bickering, whining, or crying, before getting in yourself. Ahhh heaven.

more "minus mark" mayhem

Night number 2 at grandma's went a little like this. Uncle Jordan drops girls off (Hailey and Skyla) hungry, tired, slightly sunburned, and a little grumpy. I fix them zucchini fritters while asking Uncle Jim to watch Claire, which even with the best intentions is about as helpful as asking Claire to prepare a trifle for dessert. Although Uncle can "watch" her, he can't pick her up. So he can "watch" her pull the bird cage on her head or crawl out the door into traffic, but it really is not very useful. After dinner the girls are tired so I put Claire into her crib and once she's asleep put Hailey and Skyla in Claire's room in sleeping bags on the floor. Since Skyla has no sleeping bag, she has to use Anna's and Anna sleeps with Grandma. At 6 am the fun begins. Skyla and Hailey wake up the baby and since she didn't get enough sleep is a grouchy bear. As I'm feeding her, I hear whimpering and when I look up Anna is sidling toward me with tears. I asked what was wrong and she said she accidentally peed in grandma's bed (Sweet, wonderful). After some shopping, helping clean up, packing kids up, I finally leave. I drive to Corvallis to feed the dog, get more supplies, and then drive to Grandma Bonnie's. Upon getting there and waking up the kids to unload them, I realize Anna has peed in her carseat. After cleaning her up and unloading diapers, clothes, hats, sunblock, etc. I have to dismantle her carseat and wash everything. The next day after a leisurely walk to the local park and some playing in the water, Hailey began to complain of a headache. She lay down on the couch to rest. I went in to check on her just in time to hear her puke all over Grandma Bonnie's couch. She puked once more in the car on the way home (am I having fun yet?) and fell asleep on the couch at home. I put her in bed with me and at 2am I heard Anna crying, went in to check on her and she had peed the bed. I changed the bed put her on Hailey's bed and went back to bed. The next morning at 6 am Hailey started puking again. At about 9am my parents stopped by to borrow the canoe and all lines of Hell intersected for about 15 minutes in my house. As I dug through our "O so organized storage" I heard Hailey whimpering on the couch. She asked me to snuggle with her but the baby who was woken up early was crying in her crib. At that very moment Anna started screaming Mama I'm done wipe me. I went in to get Claire and her diaper was also poopy. Poop and puke, oh my favorite. Later we went to the doc who said Hailey had a virus (I love hearing that, I know it's not their fault and their the experts here, but 98.9% of the time whatever is ailing the kids is a virus) We raced home so I could get ready for a job interview, left Papa Bill with some instructions, put the kids down for a nap, and left. I was not as shining (well maybe with sweat) as usual and when I returned home Hailey had woken up from her nap and was 100% better. Now as long as no one else pukes, pees the bed or tries to injure themselves I will be very happy...and boy is Mark gonna get an earful when he gets home. I bet he'll wish he would have been gone for 20 days instead of 10 when he sees what's in store for him.

whoa is me...

So my husband Mark, thought it would be a great idea to go backpacking for 10 days and leave me at home with three small children. Although I wasn't too thrilled with this prospect I thought it will be nice for him to get away after all he does for us and since he didn't go last year because of my pregnancy and restaurant I felt I had to support him in this endeavor. That was until he left...
Thursday he drove to his dad's house and I drove to Eugene to stay with my grandma and great uncle for 2 nights. I love spending time with them so I didn't think twice. Well the first night started out wonderfully...at least until 2 am. Uncharacteristically, Claire decided to wake up and just be awake for 2 hours. She has never been awake in the middle of the night for more than about 20 minutes even as a newborn so you can imagine my surprise and dismay. I knelt down next to her playpen and rubbed her back. As I rubbed her back I leaned my head on the edge of the crib and tried to get as comfortable as possible on an inch wide, metal pillow. The baby lay down and after about 5 minutes, hearing that her breathing was very regular, I sat back on my heels trying to decide if I should sneak out of the room or lay down on the floor. At this moment the baby popped up and began to look around. I got back up on my knees, laid her back down, and stroked her back once again. After I was sure she was asleep I stopped rubbing her back and looked down at her. She appeared to be asleep in every way. Eyes closed, steady rythmic breathing, twitching momentarily. The second I sat back on my heels up popped her head. We continued this lovely middle of the night tango until I heard my grandma's 42 clocks begin chiming (I'm not kidding, I think actually we've counted 60 clocks, but only 42 of them chime, which you can imagine can be so conducive while trying to get a baby to sleep). I heard 4 chimes and I guess 4 am is Claire's limit and she fell almost instantly asleep. Instead of risking waking her up I decided to lay down on the carpet and sleep there. It wasn't as bad as I imagined...70's shag carpet is surprisingly comfortable...