Jonny & Amanda

I have the hardest time writing on here as of late, and it really bugs me. It's not that I think the world is waiting on pins and needles to see what I come out with next, but there are so many darned hilarious things that happen around here that I want to remember and they are just flying by without me recording them. Dangit. And let's be honest, a lot of disgusting, outrageous things too that I might find humorous later.

Part of the problem is that I have a no-blogging-while-the-kids-are-awake rule. And then by the time they are in bed and quiet for the night (two totally different things), I am plum tuckered. And my sense of humor is usually out the door by then.

In an effort to redeem our family history I offer the you the following short essays. The goings on and what's been swimming around in my head.

I Don't Want a Dog, Damnit.
Jonny and the kids are dying for a dog. They talk about it all the time. I don't want a dog. If it were to be an outdoor dog I wouldn't have as much of a problem, but Jonny wants an indoor dog, and a big one. Is it not enough that I clean up everybody else's bodily fluids around here? And feed everyone else? We already have a cat which I am pretty sure was just a "I really want a baby but we've only been married 3 weeks so let's get a cat instead and maybe that will take care of my maternal urges for a while" decision. Do you know what that cat did yesterday? He crawled up inside of my box spring - mind you, he had ripped a whole in that white stuff that covers the bottom of the box spring a few years ago - and he threw up in my box spring. I can't even see where it is, but I can smell it. Disgusting. I don't want a dog.

I Know I'm Spoiled and I Like it that Way
We live in my parent's basement. It is a really nice, large, walk out basement and I have no room to complain. It is lovely. But it only has one bathroom. I know that in the olden days people used to have to trudge through the dark and snow and wind and rain to go to the outhouse to use the restroom. My Mom remembers what a big deal it was when they moved into a house that had two bathrooms. I know I am spoiled to expect more than one, but I just never want to share a bathroom with my kids again.

Matthew went in there the other day and yelled, "Mom! Sophie got poop on the floor!" Sure enough, there was poop on the floor. Well, Sophie is not potty trained and he had not pooped so apparently Emma got the poop on the floor. She doesn't know how, and I don't know how you could do that and not notice.

Emma came out of the bathroom the other day and told me sheepishly, "Sorry Mommy, I had a potty accident on the floor." I was trying to be relaxed and told her that was OK and asked casually how that happened. Her reply? "Well, I was trying to see where the potty comes out of and it just sprayed everywhere." Of course. I asked her if she figured out where the potty comes from and she said, "Yep! There's a hole down there."

One day when Matthew was potty-training I asked him to go in and go potty. A few minutes later I heard his panicked voice yelling, "Mommy! I'm slipping!" Apparently he had gone potty without making sure his boy parts were pointing down and had sprayed all over the floor. Then when he tried to stand up he slipped and fell in the potty. Over and over again. He needed a bath after all that slipping around. Super duper funny and also disgusting.



It Is That Long
So many people are so sweet and always ask how things are going with Jonny away and when he comes home. When I tell them another couple of months, they invariably say something to the effect of, "Oh, that's right around the corner!" or "Oh that's getting really close!" "Oh, that's not that long!" I know they mean well and I appreciate their concern and encouragement. But the mean and bratty little part of me wants to say, "Oh really? Not that long? Well, maybe you would like to send your husband off for the next couple of months and see how long it is. Never mind that past ten, just the next two. OK?" Rude, right? And usually I don't feel that way. Just sometimes. Hats off to all single moms everywhere - you are amazing. And I want my husband home.

The Passing of the Naughty Torch
Remember what a pill Matthew was being for the longest time? Well, all of the sudden he is as sweet as pie and Sophie is a stink. I think she got the memo that she was turning two (last week!) She is walking around this place like a mad woman - whacking anyone who gets in her way, shrieking at ear piercing decibels if she is denied something she wants, and generally being a menace. And then two seconds later she will put her head on my shoulder and say, "I wove uuu mommy." So stinking sweet. And she must run up to Emma and hug her every day before Emma leaves for school. And she smothers the phone with kisses when she talks to her Dad. Thank goodness for the super sweet things she does because they sure save her little rear end during the naughty times!



I Try to Be Positive and Usually I Am and I Tell Emma We Shouldn't Say 'Hate', But I Hate Diabetes
Emma's blood sugar has been crazy lately. CRAZY I tell you. It was crazy high right before her big dance performance a couple of weeks ago so she went on stage with her blood sugar 3 times what it is supposed to be and had to skip our traditional treat after the show. She cried and cried and asked me why her pancreas stopped working and told me she just wants to be a normal kid. So even though most of the time I feel so grateful that it is something we can treat and manage, there are times when I see my baby crying and feeling terrible and I am full of fear about what her future holds and I really really hate diabetes.



I Love Stacey Q
I was at a class last week at the gym and they played a Stacey Q song. Holy moly it blasted me right back to the fourth grade where I was a Roadrunner at Rosedale Elementary in Saugus, CA. At recess we would meet out on the grass with our tape players and listen to Stacey Q. "We Connect," "Better Than Heaven," and "Two of Hearts." Tell me I'm not the only one who loved her...still loves her!