Let's Think About This

I don't want to hear any more "poor Johnny" malarkey.

The Boy will never have to share a room. The Boy will never have to share ANYTHING. The Boy will get to live in a house with loads of tween and teenage girls during slumber parties. Will there be an overabundance of estrogen? Yes. But The Boy will come out smelling like a rose because ultimately he will have no male competition sibling-wise.

He is the lone prince and the benefits, folks, definitely outweigh the cost.

Things To Fling And To NOT Fling

First, the thing to definitely not fling is the arrival of my latest niece! Maggie took her sweet time into this world, much to the consternation of my sister, arriving over a week past the deadline.



Because she is so stinkin' cute, I think we'll forgive her. It's killing me I haven't seen her in a bit.



Thing to fling:

The first day I visited my sister in the hospital I witnessed a few splendid t-shirts. Now I wasn't dressed to the nines (my clothing is hardly fashionable, especially the maternity sort), but I think I would choose to wear something a little more presentable than a "Thank God I'm drunk" shirt to visit a loved one in the hospital. Truly. Or the overly-buxom woman with the too-short tank top that exposed her muffin-tops - among other things - and read: "I get frisky when I drink whisky!". At least she was walking with the guy wearing the shirt that said "Drunk chicks dig me!". So at least we know their relationship history.

I would punt my child if I caught them wearing something like that.

Arriving Sometime In December...

A Girl!!! A girl. Wow. Let's see...that will make FOUR girls, one boy, and two very tired parents.

Oh my stars.

Mother Of The Year

I was driving home today and was sitting at a stoplight when a sweet little hand touched my arm and a sweet little voice said "Hi Mommy! I come up here with you!".

WHAT????!!!! That is NOT supposed to happen when driving four little ones around town.

Freaked, I looked down and saw Lizzy standing right behind me. I must not have strapped her into her car seat and she decided a stoplight would be a good time to take a stroll from the back of the too-cool minivan to be close to The Mommy.

Me: "Lizzy! You scared the daylights out of me! Hold my hand, sweet girl. I'm going to pull over and get you back in your seat."

Lizzy: "Mommy! I want to sit in your lap!" (visions of Britney Spears appeared)

Light turned green, I held on tight. She still staggered back a bit.

Johnny: "Lizzy! Hold my hand! I keep you safe!" (such the gentleman)

Me: (silently) Please, please, please don't get pulled over. But I'm sure he would understand...right? I mean, look at this mess of car seats and with one on the way SURELY I would just get a warning.

Everything worked out, of course.

Good grief.

Trouble

Morning Conversation:

John: "Johnny, you're looking ornery this morning."

The Boy: "Yes I am."

I'm in for it today.



Ignore the mess of our garage. Of course there's an excuse...

Potty Training

I hate it. Ainsley wasn't potty trained until she was 3 1/2 and it is 100% my fault. I was preggers with the Three, we only had one bathroom and it was upstairs (there was NO WAY I was going to stagger up and down the stairs every 1/2-hour), and we were doing major construction on our house, which disrupted everything for 6 months. When she did decide, on her own, that she was done with diapers, she was trained in 2 days. She made it easy on me.

I've been dreading and putting off training for the crumbgobblers (which they still are - they'll eat anything they find...anywhere) forever and they're starting to call me on it. I'm fairly certain Lizzy and Johnny could experience the joy of a Target trip for big kid underpants if I encouraged them, which I don't. They voluntarily go 3-5 times/day and the ordeal is so lengthy it drives me crazy because if one has to go, then everyone wants to have a swing at it. Gracie is barely interested and she really doesn't get it. She'll sit there and just stare and stare at her loo-loo (which is what we call it - thanks Elizabeth for bringing that into our lives), waiting for something to come out, which it never does.

So I'm blase' about the whole thing and my 2 1/2-year-olds are still running around, everyone blissfully and unashamedly wearing diapers. I guess I need to do something about this before preschool starts in September, right? Ugh. Sigh. Dang it.

Maybe I'll put it off until they're 3...