The Blob......

I woke up this morning, looked around, and have determined that we're gonna be killed by smothering. At the rate my laundry pile is growing, it is clear to me that by appoximately 6:25 tonight, my family and I will be completely overtaken by what is now crawling out of our hampers and crawling onto the floors and be stiffled by the rising amoeba of garments covered by marker ink, tempura paint, grass stains, dirt, tomato sauce, and a plethora of other colorful and adhesive food items. Today, I just don't even care that the monster exhists. Today, I lay down and end my battle. I put down the stain stick. I have been fighting him everyday since my first baby was born, chipping away at him a little bit a day. Some days I've felt like a victor because I can see the bottom of all 4 hampers. But that is exactly when I hear it...that small uninvited inconspicuous sound........SPLAPHHHT!

...and BOOM! I was a Princess!

Potty training is the most important thing in the world! At least you would think so if you were the one who has to change the diapers after a hefty dinner of sausage pizza and veggies with garlic ranch dressing, or red pepper hummus over lemon spice pita chips and fish with dill butter and asparagus. I mean really....think about the most spicy, most garlicky, cheesy dinner you've ever had. Now think of the dump you took the morning after that meal...now think about taking that ol' dump, gift-wrapping it, and handing it to your mother. 'Nuf said?!

People for years and years have been trading secrets, selling gimmicks and passing on the oral tradition of toilet teaching to generations of young parents who are deperate to replenish nasal hair lost from inhaling hazmat-only toxins made from little Sally's fiery innerds. We try anything to make them poo in the pot...buy fancy charts, go broke over incentives, bribe, scold, plead, threaten legal action... anything to not have to wipe that poo up.

Aside from my daily battles surrounding our water closet (one is learning, and the other is too lazy to stop what he's doing and will hold it until the dam breaks!) I have friends dealing with potty procedure, hoping to end diapers all together. So, one friend has decided to tell her little one that she can phone any one of her heros to tell them what she did, to recieve congratulations and be praised for hitting the mark. I was happy to lend my services to my mama friend and be the "on-call voiceover artist" and be willing to be whoever the heck her daughter wanted me to be, whenever she did the deed.

SO...I'm in Trader Joe's.....everything surrounding the genital area seems to happen to me there. My two year old is taking all of the chocolate off of the display shelf and my 5 year old is asking me if he can carry the bag of pretzels to the car so he can inhale the entire thing. I'm trying to pay the nice clerk and my cell phone rings...

Jen: Hey, are you busy?

Me: Did she do it?

Jen: Yes, and she would love to speak to Cinderella, is Cinderella around?

Me: Lemme get her..(changes voice to wispy super-fem somewhat british voice) Hello?

Potty champ: Shindurella?

Me: Is this the "Potty Princess"?

Potty Champ: Yeeeeesh....(breathing hard whilst smiling..)

Me: Oh! I'm so delighted that you have become a REAL "Potty Princess". I'm simply so excited about this!

(my two year old tears of a wrapper from a chocolate bar from the display and begins eating it....wasn't really planning on buying that chocolate bar...)

Potty champ: (heavy breathing whilst smiling and giggling...)

Me: Well, I'll be having tea with the other princesses to talk all about how wonderful you're doing! You have made us all so proud!

(My son is asking where his chocolate bar is at this point while the checker is grinning and handing me a PILE of stickers and a receipt)

Jen: Thanks so much, Cinderella! My Potty Princess cannot wait to speak to you again! Well, be talking to you soon, hopefully...

Me: Hey, sure... (begin luring my children out of the store with the stickers and what little is left from the chocolate bar, while carrying a ball of foil that my chocolate covered daughter spit into my hand...what the?)

Jen: Talk soon!

Me: Okay!


Later...I had the opportunity to be Dora the Explorer (while my son was in the backgound yelling that I had lost my mind because I was not, in fact, Dora!) and Supergirl! After a few days of work and patience, no doubt, on the part of my dear friend, The Potty Princess was trained! Hallelujah! One less butt to wipe in the universe!

See! Told Ya!

Did you see Desperate Housewives last Sunday night? Yeah! They pulled it out...THE AMNESIA! It's like they're reading my blog or something! (I know they're really not...I'm not that pitiful....)

Soap Opera Amnesia

You know...I always used to laugh at how soap opera plots used to make use of amnesia to restructure a show. If a relationship was getting boring and both characters in the relationship have had too many affairs already...USE AMNESIA! A certain character is losing interest with its watchers....USE AMNESIA! Need to introduce someone into the story plot either via nurse, doctor or patient...USE AMNESIA! Wedding day...AMNESIA! Funeral...AMNESIA! Murder...AMNESIA! Special Guest Star...AMNESIA!

Well, since the beginning of this school year...I think I have some form of amnesia! My life is just a weird series of costume changes, car rides, errands, washings, toiletings, feedings, and small mental breakdowns medicated by either chocolate or dairy products. I wake up to the very same maddening routine everyday, surprised that it's all happening to me, while I'm in my pajamas holding a pair of training pants in one hand and a dozen eggs in the other. Does anyone else feel this way? Everything I do isn't difficult.... But there are things about it that just baffle me. For instance, why does look like a bomb hit my house after I put my children in bed, yet I know I spent HOURS cleaning and organizing this place? Why does my 2 year old insist she has to poop in a major way when we finally get to the front of the grocery line with a cartful, only to get to the bathroom, look up at me while she's on the toilet and say, "just a fart..."! Why when you finally have turkey for easy sandwiches for lunch, you find that your bread is moldy! Why is it when you are running late, you can't, for the life of you, find your son's shoe, but five minutes after he's supposed to be in class you realize he's wearing one and the other has been in your hand for the last half an hour?!?

And to top it off...I COMEPLETELY FORGOT I EVEN HAD A BLOG!!!! A friend emailed me yesterday and said, "BLOG ALREADY!!!!" Thanks, Margaret....At least one of us isn't laid up in a hospital bed with a big ol' head bandage wondering, "Where am I?"