Look What I Found...

So some of our lipstick pictures magically appeared today as I was downloading Clinton's birthday pictures. I feel I should point out that we were already into the clean up process before I gained enough composure to grab my camera...so consider this just the tip of the iceberg.

A hand towel that saw it's final moments in shades of pink. It soon found its way to the trash can.

A look at ONE of the doors covered in lipstick. What you can't see is the lipstick caked on the handle.

A little boy enjoying part of his punishment.

No longer pretty in pink (but rather nice clear chapstick),

Lucky To Be Alive

Perhaps this is a bit exaggerated, but it's possibly what my son's been telling himself for the past 24 hours. He has been into things...

**Please note we in no way inflict physical harm on our children, but we are a bit dramatic...hence the title of this post.**

Yesterday started out as any normal non-school day. We laid in bed and watched cartoons, then ate blueberry pancakes, and played in our jammies until Heidi Sage's 11a nap time. Things were going well.

Whenever I put Heidi Sage down for a nap, I put Clinton in front of the TV to make sure he stays in place. Since Nick Jr. puts him in a complete and utter trance, this works well for us.

Taking advantage my son's zombie-like love affair with his "tartoons", I decided I'd slip into the shower real quick and get myself dressed and ready for the remainder of the day. Here's where things started becoming unfortunate.

Clinton can hear the shower turn on from the playroom. He knows that if he is really quiet, he can sneak into my bathroom and sneak out without being seen or heard. He also knows there are things in the bathroom he'd like to get into but is unable to do so when an adult is monitoring his activities. So, occasionally he is able to tear himself from the tartoons just long enough to get into trouble....BIG TROUBLE.

When I got out of the shower, Clinton was nowhere to be seen. At that point I congratulated myself on a successful shower with no visible signs of a mess. Phew.

As I was getting ready, my neighbor called and I talked to her while I put my makeup on. While we were talking Clinton came around the corner saying, "MOM! Taptick! Taptick!" This is code for chapstick....only he didn't have chapstick....he had lipstick. Pink lipstick. Pink lipstick all over his hands. Pink lipstick all over his face. I would say everything from his cheekbones down to his chin was covered in pink. Clinton was all smiles. He could not have been prouder.

I kept my neighbor on the phone as I went searching for the rest of the mess that was inevitable...he had been upstairs, after all. In the play room I found two small spots and one larger spot of lipstick in the carpet. But relatively speaking (in comparison to some of our other messes), this seemed quite contained and minimal. My neighbor googled some solutions for getting lipstick out of carpet. I felt the problem was manageable and punished Clinton with what I felt fit the crime.

Later that afternoon, I was sitting at the kitchen table clipping coupons. Clinton was sitting across from me coloring with his markers. I was visiting with him, but not watching him. I guess he noticed I wasn't paying close enough attention and proceeded with his next mess.

"Mommy! Mommy! Look! Look, Mommy! I can't see! I can't see! Look, Mommy!"

I looked up and Clinton had a marker in each hand and had his eyes closed because he was coloring his eyelids and the surrounding areas.

"Clinton, no! That's it...we're putting the markers away!" (He had already been warned for coloring on the table.) "You need to go in the bathroom and look in the mirror. Take these wipes and go wipe your face off."

He happily ran off to the office bathroom. We keep the bathroom doors closed for Heidi Sage and usually keep them locked for Clinton. However, this door was only shut and Clinton quickly slipped in making sure to shut the door behind him. A few seconds later he slipped back out, once again making sure to shut the door behind him. He returned to me still covered in markers and without his wipes.

"Clinton your face is still dirty. Let's go get your wipes and wipe your face off." He leaped across the floor like a leopard darting in front of me to prohibit my entrance into the bathroom. Being 3 times his side, I was able to push through the human barricade.

As I opened the door my mind could not even wrap itself around what I was seeing. It took a good 20 seconds of jaw-dropped gawking before things started registering...

...I was seeing lipstick. Pink lipstick. Pink lipstick all over the counter. Pink lipstick covering the hand towel that had found its way into the sink. Pink lipstick hand prints all over the walls. Pink lipstick smeared all over the 3 doors in the bathroom, but only up to about 4 feet high. Pink lipstick caked on the door handles. And a lid to the pink lipstick I had retrieved from my little delinquent earlier in the day. So much for a contained, minimal mess...this was more Clinton's style.

Feeling that maybe my son was acting out as a cry for more attention, I decided not to lose my cool. Instead, I explained why this was wrong. I explained what his punishment would be. And I explained how he was going to help me clean it up.

He LOVED cleaning it up. I think he kept smiling at me because he thought he had really gotten away with something. When I did actually put him in his room for his punishment, he got really upset...but only until he found his rocking horse and started playing on that.

I would love to say that was the end of the troubles...but this morning didn't get off to a very good start either.

I gave Clinton a bowl of dry cereal and told him to go to the table to eat it. I went to get Heidi Sage out of her crib and came back a few minutes later to find Clinton missing. I could hear him in my room and upon entering could feel the cereal under my feet. That's when I noticed the cereal had been poured over my entire room. After taking inventory, I saw him sitting in the corner hunching down, smiling up at me. And then I had to ask the question I've had to ask umpteen times over the past few weeks...

"Clinton!! Where are your pants? Where is your underwear?"

Fast forward 30 seconds, I blew up a bit...

Clinton was quite anxious to get to school after that....and was feeling....lucky to be alive.

Earning my gray hairs honestly,

*I wrote this post last night, but already this morning Clinton has painted the laundry room walls with finger paint!!!!! I'm trying to make cupcakes for his party tonight, guess I should be paying more attention to him instead.

**The pictures of the crime scene that I had taken didn't transfer onto my computer and I deleted them before I realized it...so there are none. You'll just have to take my word for it...it was bad.**

Potty Trained.

It's done. It wasn't easy, it wasn't pretty...but it's done. Finito.

As I have so brilliantly done in the past, I made a big decision on a whim. Last Wednesday I woke up and couldn't bear the thought of changing one more of Clinton's diapers.

Clinton had recently been talking about how he was a big boy and Heidi Sage was a baby...so I started there.

"Clinton are you a baby?" "No, I a big boy." "Did you know diapers are for babies?" "No, baby." "That's right, you're a big boy. So, you get to wear underwear." "No, nunuaweaaaaaaaar."

That's how lovely our adventure started.

If I had been journaling during our ordeal, it might have looked something like this.


WEDNESDAY
10:00 am - Clinton gave me some resistance, but I was able to coerce him into his underwear with some distraction and a small bribe. Thank goodness for M&M's.

12:00 pm - I have mopped a couple of puddles off of the floors. A lot of time has been spent explaining that M&M's will be rewarded for a pee-pee in the potty. Getting ready to hang out in the bathroom until Clinton gets it in the potty so that he can receive his reward.

2:00 pm - Lots of time in the bathroom. Lots of screaming and crying. We have had a successful pee-pee with a big potty dance and an M&M reward. While we have enjoyed the taste of success, I kind of hate myself right now.

4:00 pm - We've experienced our first #2 accident and it was gross, but we all survived. I still hate myself.

6:00 pm - We've had several successful trips to the bathroom. Clinton has asked to go potty. Still hating myself, but not as much.

10:00 pm - Clinton's in bed...with underwear. I've prepped his bed for the possibility of a bed wetting, but hoping for the best.

THURSDAY
3:30 am - Clinton just woke up wanting to watch cartoons. WHAT?? So, I told him if he would pee-pee in the potty he could get in my bed and watch cartoons. He screamed and cried, but did it anyway. Wow...I'm not a fan of myself right now.

9:00 am - Clinton awoke with dry undies. Made a tearful, groggy trip to the bathroom to pee-pee and quickly perked up when given M&Ms. Starting to think I'm not so stupid.

12:00 pm - Clinton has gotten the hang of the pee-pee part...although he's upped the ante from M&M's to Oreos. I've exhaustingly obliged. Feeling really good about my on-a-whim decision.

3:00 pm - I just cleaned up poop that was smeared over a good part of the play room. I thought I might be sick, but I managed to push through. Clinton was freaked out and hiding under a table, but I think he understood what went wrong and what to do next time. Hoping I made the right decision.

10:00 pm - Clinton's in bed. Only one accident today, but it was a big one. Thinking I made the right decision.

FRIDAY
9:00 am - Clinton woke up dry and HAPPILY went pee-pee in the potty! Hooray! I will not clean up poo-poo today...Clinton will be spending lots of time on the potty until he poops in the potty. Period.

12:00 pm - Clinton had his first poo-poo in the potty!!!!!!! He was running around naked after a failed sitting. He made a bee line for the bathroom. When I got in there I could hear him peeing. He got up to reveal that he had also gone #2. "Wutz dat?" "That's your poo-poo! You poo-pood in the potty!!!" "Oh.....it's BIG!!! Mommy, my poo-poo big!" Clinton said bye to his poo-poo as he flushed it and after a good hand washing, we celebrated with a Little Debbie cupcake. I might be the smartest person ever...

10:00 pm - No more accidents. Patting myself on the back.

SATURDAY AND SUNDAY
Over the weekend, the few accidents we had were just not getting to the potty in time...but he was always on the way. He had gotten the hang of it and thoroughly enjoyed all the positive attention of a job well done. He LOVES to poo-poo in the potty....and LOVES to enjoy his Little Debbie afterward. We weren't even home over the weekend. We were out and about all day Saturday and went to church on Sunday. Clinton was quite impressive.

MONDAY
Perfect day. I love myself. Bye-bye diapers for two...

Wondering how early I can potty train Heidi Sage,

9 Months and Counting...

Our little girl is still little...but doing big girl things. Two weeks ago I took Heidi Sage in for her 9 month appointment. She weighed in at 17 lbs. 1 oz., down in the 20th percentile....what a difference from her off the charts brother! Her height was in the 50th percentile, and her head was in the 75th.

Heidi Sage is doing so much now. She is crawling EVERYWHERE. She likes to be anywhere that Clinton is....and can get there quickly. She also really likes to be chased. If you start towards her she throws her arms up in the air, squeals and then turns to crawl away. It's so cute. She also turns and darts if she's trying to eat something off of the floor and she sees me look at her. She knows I'm going to dig it out of her mouth. And you've never seen a child who can clench their teeth and purse their lips as tightly as she can. There's no telling what she's been able to eat because I can't get her mouth open to dig it out. See "pursed lips" below...

Not only does Miss Priss love to play with her brother, she also loves to play with Gracie. She'll throw the ball and Gracie brings it back. Every time Gracie returns the ball Heidi Sage giggles and squeals with sheer delight. It's so fun to watch.

Heidi Sage is a big eater...aside from eating all kinds of things off of the floor, she loves all kinds of finger foods. She refuses to eat baby food anymore. The only thing I'm allowed to feed her is yogurt. Everything else she insists on feeding herself. She LOVES yogurt melts, biter biscuits, pasta, rice, steamed fruits and veggies, and any kind of bread. Tonight we also discovered that she likes Campbell's Double Noodle soup. Oh, and there's a possibility she got a hold of one of Clinton's chocolate chip cookies and also found it to be quite delectable.

As I stated before, Priss Pot loves her brother. We have a rule in our house...when there is silence and Clinton can't be seen, find him immediately. Now the rule is...when there is silence, and neither child can be seen, find them faster than immediately. Why the rush? Because Clinton can do lots of damage alone, but he can do more damage with an accomplice....or victim.

Take for example, a few weeks ago I was checking my email. A silence gradually fell over the house. Upon noticing the lack of noise, I turned to do a head count and located ZERO children.

"Clinton?" Whispering giggles, followed by the squeal of a baby. "Clinton, what are you doing?" "Nup-PING!" As I rounded the corner, I was greeted by this...

...an innocent little girl who had received a few loving scribbles from her brother. Sigh.

That was only the beginning. Who do you think came around the corner next? The loving brother...

A few other 9 month tidbits...HS is up to 5 teeth and more coming in, she's pulling up on everything, and she's getting weaned onto the bottle.

I'll keep you posted as our little girl continues to grow up...that first birthday will be here before we know it!!

Trying to keep up,

GLITTER

Move over, Mariah!! We have our own version of "Glitter" and it's sure to be more entertaining than the box-office dud you exposed us to so many years ago.

To get this story started, let's first play a quick game. See if you can find the missing object in the second picture.

These shelves are hung high enough to be out of reach of a toddler's hands...so I thought. As you may have noticed, a certain green item went missing. It should be stated that Clinton has asked about this particular item on several occasions over the last six months, but each time I told him it was "yucky" or "dirty" or "broken"...leading him to believe we couldn't touch it.

Our neighbors recently moved out and gave us a stereo that came with two separate speakers. I had accepted the stereo with plans to put it in the play room. I had yet to set it up, so it was just hanging out on the floor. That was, until Clinton found another purpose for one of the speakers...

Do you notice how the speaker has been carefully placed in front of the shelves, and turned on its side for stable standing? And how the green bin is gone???

So, all of this had happened, and Rodney and I were downstairs completely unaware that any of our surroundings had changed. Do I believe if a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it does it still make a sound? Uh, YES!! Just as surely as I believe that if a two year old is alone to make a mess and no one is there to witness it, it is still a mess.....that someone eventually has to clean up!! And let's just say I am A.K.A. "someone".

While the upstairs sat in its new....ummm, condition...we sat down to eat dinner. Clinton was actually sitting in his seat. Being compliant. Eating his food. Why the red flags weren't popping out of his ears I don't know!?!? This is not how this child behaves during meals, and the next time I'll know not to be mentally patting myself on the back for finally "fixing" him, but rather thinking about where he's been and what he might have done.

Then Rodney starts this conversation...

"I think Clinton got into some glitter. Is there glitter that he can get into?"

"No...I don't think so. He has some crayons that have glitter in them, he probably just got some flecks of that on him." Proud of myself for knowing exactly what my child could have been in, I continued with my dinner.

"Well, it was kind of all over his sweater. Like all over it."

I look over to see Rodney has already removed the sweater. Oooh, it must've been bad.

Hmmm. What else would have had glitter on it. Glitter. Glitter. Glitter. Oh, no...GLITTER!

I suddenly remembered that a year or so ago, I had so craftily set up an art area in the play room and put all the art supplies on the shelves. This way they were available....but not accessible (to little hands).

I dropped my fork and ran upstairs. As I reached the top of the stairs, my eyes couldn't find the black shelf fast enough. My heart sank as I realized the green bin was not where I had left it so many months ago. I began scanning the room.....couch--clean, relciner--clean, big table--clean, play mat--clean, tool bench--clean.......train table---SPARKLY!

I couldn't help but laugh out loud (as I was crying on the inside). I could see how he not only strategically dumped it, but had carefully run his fingers through it to make trails and patterns. I took it all in and went downstairs shutting the gate behind me.

I ate my dinner then took Clinton upstairs with me so he could "confess" what he had done and apologize for it. As we got to the top of the steps he ran straight over to the mess then turned around with arms straight out, palms facing up, and his surprised face! :-0

"Clinton, did you....?" I was quickly cut off with this exclamation by my young son....

"OH, NO!!!! What happened?"

AH, ha ha ha ha ha.....this is why he never thinks he's in trouble....because I laugh at him all the time! Oh, well.....I'll enjoy him now, maybe his wife can fix him down the road. ;-)

So, I cleaned.....and cleaned.....and cleaned. My Dyson has never been so shiny. And now our play room carpet has a little sparkle to it too... I've heard it can take years to get it all out....I've heard. Before cleaning it up, I asked Rodney if wanted to go see the mess and his response was, "I don't want anything to do with that up there." Okay, I'll handle it. :-(

So, the green bin with the remaining glitter has found a new home....and I am continuing to try to stay one step ahead of my little monster....but it is proving to be more and more difficult each and every day!

Razzle-Dazzle,

Running Away from Home

Clinton is strong willed. Very strong willed. To say the least.

I appreciate how this quality may serve him well in the future, but I'm struggling as a mother as I try to teach him when and where this is appropriate. He has yet to realize it is not appropriate when playing outside near the street.

He is determined to play in the street, which would be fine if he would stay in our cul-de-sac. But he wants to head out the other direction and take off. So, I'm determined to keep him in the driveway or on the sidewalk. The battle lines are clearly drawn.

I, too, am strong willed. Anyone who may have been gazing out their window yesterday got to witness a war of wills for the record books. There was a lot of raised-voice-instruction, back-breaking lifting of a monster truck with a 2 year old in tow, and some kicking and screaming (by Clinton...and as much as I wanted to I was able to refrain).

I was hoping to take advantage of our perfect picture taking weather and get some cute shots of the kids. Seeing as I was running back and forth between the kids, the cute pics were limited...but a story unfolded.

**************

"Clinton, we're not going in the street, okay? You can ride right here in the driveway or on the sidewalk, but no street, okay?

Okay? Clinton are you listening?"

No response.

"Mom, I don't think he's listening. I'm just sayin'."


"Clinton, you need to stay away from the street. No street, okay?"

"Kay."

He agreed, but it lacked sincerity.


What followed were multiple attempts by Clinton to ride free in the streets. The mommy girl would herd him back, carry him back, or lure him back with threats of going to his room.

She thought she had finally gotten through to him, he WAS staying on the sidewalk, but...

"Oh no, mom! I think brudder is running away!"


"Clinton, come back here. Clinton, you need to turn around. Clinton, get back here now."

No response. Forward motion continuing.

"Clinton, now! You're going to go to your room."

He stopped but only long enough to look back and see how serious the mommy girl really was with her threats. Then he was off again.

"CLINTOOOOOOOOOON!!!" A few snappity snaps of the camera, and the mommy girl was off to retrieve sweet Clinton from the dangers lurking at the end of the street.

After giving the boy a stern talking to, the mommy girl turned the truck around and Clinton headed back to his home sweet home.


However, as he got closer to his house he was feeling defeated. "I must get to the street," he thought, "this mommy lady can't hold me back forever." Really? Want to bet on it, son?

As he approached the driveway he veered left to make his great escape onto the much desired pavement.

"Clinton, that's it! You'll go to your room!" He heard the mommy girl's footsteps nearing the truck.

"I'll show her," he thought. "She can only punish me if I get in the street."

He slowed the truck down and parked it here.

The mommy girl was exasperated. She couldn't punish him because he wasn't in the street, but boy, was he pushing her buttons!

Now on foot, Clinton happily watched the mommy girl's face with a smirk. He had a small victory under his belt. But he just couldn't help himself.

As he and the mommy girl locked eyes, both standing their ground, he eased closer and closer to the street. He could see smoke starting to come out of her ears. "Well, that's pretty cool. Let's see what happens if I touch the street."

With laughter, he quickly turned and darted out into the street. "I think I just heard her head explode! Ha ha ha ha!"

The mommy girl sprinted out, scooped up the boy and carried him straight to his room.

"We do NOT play in the street!!" She shut the door and her heart broke as the little boy fell into a sobbing heap on the floor.

Not 60 seconds later the mommy girl returned to check on her little delinquent and could hear laughter and "Jump! Jump!" coming from Clinton's room. She opened the door to find he had thrown the clean laundry and pillows onto the floor, pulled the covers back and was using his bed as a trampoline.

With a heavy sigh and a heavier heart she shut the door and headed to the kitchen. As much as the bottle of Shiraz on the counter was calling her name, she opted for a glass of iced water and an oatmeal cream pie to help calm her nerves. "Maybe tomorrow," she thought, "Maybe tomorrow will be better."

***************

Surviving the everyday drama,