Mommy Overload

Garry has been at training for the last week and a half, and so I have been on constant duty. Really constant because the girls have even been sneaking into bed with me every night.

This morning I realized that I was in Mommy Overload when I cut up my own pancake into small pieces. I looked down, saw what I had done, and I had to laugh.

MOMMY OVERLOAD!

A Poor Role Model

On Mondays, the girls and I enjoy "Movie Time Monday", an opportunity to kick back after breakfast and watch a movie.

Today it was Bambi.

I do try to interact with the girls while they watch the movie. But today I messed up.

During the Spring Scene, when Bambi was out with his mother and found grass under the snow, I proudly started to share my knowledge with the girls. Mind you, I do have a juris doctorate, so I have LOADS of knowledge to share.

"Look girls," I said, "They found grass under the snow. Deers like grass."

The minute it was out of my mouth, I realized my mistake. I was appalled. I expected men in dark suits to knock on m door and take my degrees away. I said DEERS. While trying to teach my children, I used the words DEERS.

I guess I'll leave language training and development to Garry.

A Prayer Before Sleeping

The Big Girls' Room is almost done!! We have gone about redoing their room in a VERY slow manner. We just bought things as we could afford them. First, we bought the sheets for their future beds in June. Then several weeks ago we bought their new mattresses. Then I bought their blankets. Finally last week we bought their bunkbeds and their quilts.

So finally Emma and Macey have their big girl beds!

We got a good deal on the bunk beds from target.com. And I saved up and just cried a little bit when I bought their quilts from Pottery Barn for Kids. Darn Pottery Barn and their expensive cuteness!!

Making a bunk bed was a little difficult. It took me a long time to make that top bunk. I hope to find a better way. Surely I will get better with practice!

So here's my prayer before sleeping. Please, please, please Emma, do not wet the bed tonight. I just do not think that I can remake that bed again tomorrow.

I Have Some Things To Say

My thyroid levels have been raised to really high levels in order to provide enough thyroid hormone for me and the growing (and GROWING) baby since I do not have a thyroid. The increased levels make my thoughts ramble. . .so here are some things I have to say.

HAPPY DANCE, CONTINUED: I love, love, love my new backpack purse. I am telling you, if you have more than one kid and need your hands free, it is fabulous! Happy Dance.

ARE WE HAVING THIS CONVERSATION?: Emma's birthday is a week from Saturday and she is ready. Everything she sees in the store, she asks if she can have it for her birthday. Including the grocey store. The other day she picked out some raspberries and asked if she could have them for her birthday. But yesterday was the worst. We were listening to her favorite song "Pocket Full of Sunshine" (I got a pocket, got a pocket full of sunshine. . .) and she asked if she could have a pocket full of sunshine for her birthday. What do you say to that? We had a ten minute conversation about all the reasons why she could not have a pocket full of sunshine for her birthday, and finally, frustrated with my answers, she said that she would ask her cousin for a pocket full of sunshine. Fine, knock yourself out.

PRESIDENT BUSH: Alright, I am a long-time Republican. I've worked for the state party, a congressman and two senators. I have Republican credentials. But I am ready to see Bush exit stage left. Or right. Just exit. I saw his press conference this morning where he just stuttered through a simple explanation, and I thought after eight years of this, shouldn't he be somewhat good at this by now?? I'm not an Obama fan by any means, but there is something to say about a polished speaker. It at least gives the appearance that they know what they are talking about. And that would be a nice change.

FAMILY BATHROOMS: I took the girls to the mall today, and Emma had to use the restroom. So we used the family restroom. It is a large room with a changing table, two sinks, and two toilets. It's perfect for our family. And apparently someone else's. This lady tried the door, knocked, and then knocked again to make sure I knew that she was waiting to use said restroom. Now with so many other options in the mall, I was a little annoyed that someone was knocking the door down. I prefer not to be rushed in that situation. So you better believe the girls and I did a FABULOUS job washing our hands before we left the bathroom. Very thorough. And very slllloooowwww.

GARRY: He's back from his training for the weekend. Hurray! I am not on duty for a few days. I always get sad when I am brushing my teeth and see my lone toothbrush in the holder. For some reason, it just emphasizes the fact that I am alone.

Alright, I think that's it. For now.

My Thoughts On Snow White

My father was born in 1928. I think that he's okay with my revealing his age since he just had a big 80th birthday party. The number is well known.

Like so many families in the 30's, luxuries were few and far between. My father remembers with great fondness the day that he was able to go and see the movie Snow White in 1937. He would have been nine. It is a special movie for him.

I respect the movie. But I have some comments.

First of all, the dwarfs come home and are appalled that someone is in their house and has CLEANED their house. They immediately set out with plans to kill the intruder. Now, if I came home to a cleaning stranger, I would not be thinking, "How can I kill this person?" I would be trying to figure out a way to BEG THIS PERSON TO STAY! And then to find out that she cooks as well as cleans? Good love, I would be barring the doors from the inside. Especially Apple Dumplings. She can whip up an Apple Dumpling? Welcome, stranger! Their reaction, it's just not realistic.

Second, Doc. The leader of the pack. I like Doc. My kids like Doc. But I have something to say about Doc. When Snow White sends them outside to wash before dinner, he instructs the others on how to wash up and sings a little song. But doesn't anyone notice that while he's instructing others, HE'S NOT WASHING! He's the perfect politician -- telling everyone what to do with a smile and doing his own thing on the side.

Third, the Prince. Oh my, the Prince. Now, Snow White should not run off with this guy. He's just not reliable. He's there at the beginning and then takes off and shows up at the end. If Snow White was not so darn nice, she really should be asking him where he's been! Where was he when the Woodsman tried to kill her? Or the dwarfs? Or when the witch came a'knockin? He's a too late Charlie. She could do better. I hope that she does a Runaway Bride when the camera stops running and takes that horse and finds someone more reliable, with a good job and a good healthcare plan, because everyone knows that apple is going to leave some lasting side affects. And after so many attempts on her life, she's going to need some therapy.

That said, fabulous movie, Walt.

Hiding Places

Macey has a hiding place in the house for her stuff.

Okay, actually she has two. It's the area around the windows in the living room -- either behind the shades or under the nearest couch cushion.

Thank goodness I've discovered it. Because she puts some pretty important things in there. Toys, pieces of games, pacifiers (everytime she hears Garry and I talk about taking them away) but the worst was yesterday: four videos from the library. You know the library videos -- the ones you get charged $1 late fee per day. Yep, four videos.

I do not blame her. Siblings are SCARY things and they are constantly taking things away. You've got to hide what is yours to keep it safe!! What I am worried about is that she will find a better hiding place. And then put something smelly in it. That just would just. . . well. . . stink.

Fragile

Yesterday I got a glimpse at how fragile we all are.

I was taking the girls to storytime at the library when I lost my footing and fell down the stairs. Not too many. Just about four. And they were carpeted. And I hit my bum all the way down. And my elbow. So I was pretty sure that the baby was alright, but still, you worry when you cannot see and cannot check things out yourself.

Little Emma sensed the most that my fall was not a good thing. She kept asking when we were going to the doctor so that I could get my bandaid!

A bandaid fixes everything, after all.

So far, all is well, but Sting is right. We do need to stop and think more often about how fragile we are.

Money, Money

When I was small, I remember being at the store with my Mom and trying to not stare at the candy so she would not feel bad about not getting me a candy bar. My Mom was/is VERY careful with money, being a child of the depression. We only got what we really needed or could not make. My Dad respected this, but his sweet tooth overcame his carefulness. It was always a different experience shopping with my Dad.

I do not know the best way to teach my kids about money. I try to explain that things cost money, and I do not always have money for things, but I do not want them to worry about money.

At night, I rub the girls backs and we plan the next day. We were planning our outing for the next day and the girls requested "Chicken and Rice" which is something that we get and share at the food court in the mall. Then Emma asked, "Mom, do you have enough money? Maybe you can ask Dad for some."

Is this healthy? Should she be considering how much things cost and if we could afford it before she is even four? And shouldn't she know that Dad's money is my money ;)

My Own Personal Happy Dance

When my dear friend Natalie finds a good product or has a good experience, she talks about doing a happy dance. She's a great inspiration! So here are some things that have me doing me own personal happy dance lately:

(1) Football: My husband is the expert, but I am not SO far behind, and I am so glad that this year the Redskins and BYU do not stink. Happy Dance.

(2) Princess Time!: My girls have discovered princesses and how fun to be surrounded by Belle and Ariel and Aurora and Snow White and even Giselle. Happy Dance.

(3) Noxema Scrub Wash: It leaves my skin feeling clean. A great find for $4.95. Happy Dance.

(4) Portrait Innovations: They were patient with my girls (Macey, PLEASE SMILE!) and did not mind when we bought the really cheap package. Happy Dance.

(5) Wachovia in Waldorf: They opened up ten minutes early because they saw me in the parking lot and the lady at the counter said that she did not need to see an ID because she REMEMBERED ME. What? Good service on the East Coast? Happy Dance.

(6) Sisters: So September 17th really snuck up on me and I did not get a present out for my Mom's birthday and so my sister added my name to her card. She's so together. Happy Dance.

(7) CSM Piano Class: After three full weeks, my adults in my piano class are still all coming back, each and every week. And after years of trying to get my private teaching business up and running, I actually now have a WAITING LIST. It has two people on it. Happy Dance.

(8) Garry: Cooked the girls breakfast, got the church bags ready, and let me sleep after so many nights of insomnia this week. And did not give me a hard time for leaving church early to get some more sleep. Happy Dance.

Diaper Bags

Have you ever noticed that you can tell how many kids a woman has by the size of her diaper bag? You would think that it would get bigger with more kids, but it doesn't.

When I was pregnant with Emma, my friend Wendy got me a great Eddie Bauer diaper bag. It was great. It held everything. A spare outfit, two blankets, two bottles, formula. I was prepared! For everything!

But with Macey, I started seeing the benefits of slimming down. So for Christmas from Garry I got the same Eddie Bauer diaper bag -- but about 1/3 of the size. It holds a couple of diapers, wipes, maybe a receiving blanket, and two bottles. It's been great.

So here comes #3. And yesterday I bought a fabulous purse before book club. Yes, purse. It's a fun little leather backpack purse. I think that maybe I can keep some diapers in there and wipes and maybe an emergency bottle. It's so hip. Do people say hip anymore? Maybe it's so wicked. Is that a good or bad thing?

Yesterday I took the girls to Taco Bell for lunch and saw a woman there with a huge Winnie The Pooh diaper bag. I smiled. Ah, she's new, I thought, and I lifted my Fruitista to her in a toast. Welcome to motherhood.

Desperate Situation

It's our tradition this year to go to the gym every Tuesday and Thursday. The girls get to go to Kidz Klub, and I get a little time to read my book on the treadmill.

This week, when I was getting ready to hit the gym, I could not find my nice smelling Degree Deodorant. The girls like to "get ready" with me and so I was sure it just wandered off. . . I just did not know where. Should I venture out without it? Ugh, not to the gym, and let's be honest, even if I was not going to the gym, it still would not have been a good idea.

I looked over at Garry's collection. Surely there must be some options in there. Okay, there were two: Speed Stick or Old Spice. One smelled like a guy and the other smelled like a guy. But I was desperate.

Sure enough, about ten smelling-like-a-guy minutes later, I fould my lovely Degree, Powder Fresh. I tried to put it on, but I just ended up smelling like a powdery fresh guy.

When Garry got home from work, I confessed what I had done. He came over to sniff out which one I had chosen, but all that he said was that it had apparently worn off.

Not sure what he meant by that.

My Little Lady

When Emma was born, she and Garry had an instant connection. He'd come home from work and they'd snuggle up for a good long nap. He always carried her and pushed her in the stroller. They were the bestest of friends.

So it was with relief that when I had Macey, I finally had a little buddy of my own. And what a buddy she has been.

But lately I have been trying to teach my buddy about privacy. The other day when I was getting ready in the bathroom, I told Macey that I needed a little privacy. She said "Okay" and walked all the way in and closed the door behind her. Apparently we needed privacy from Emma.

So a few days later I tried again but this time locked the door! Macey started pounding on the door asking, "Mama, you okay? You stuck in there?" The fact that I would separate myself on purpose would never occur to her. We's buddies.

Dreaming. . .

So the other night I had THE DREAM. The dream that everyone dreads, I had it and could not wake myself up from it. Can you guess which one it was?

I was back in school. It was finals time, and I had not studied. Not only had I not studied, I had not gone to a single class in one case and was just going to have to take my F. It was horrifying. I finally woke up, reminded myself that I was done with school, and I tried to go back to sleep, only to end up in the same dream.

What? What? Why can I never do that with fun dreams?

I had a roommate who lived this dream. She was an airhead. A nice airhead, but an airhead nonetheless. But apparently she was book smart and tested well because she ended up in Georgetown Law. One semester we were taking Tax Law together at the same time, but I was at George Mason Law. And I went to class. And I studied. One Sunday before finals we were walking into church and she admitted that she had not been to class since the beginning of the semester because it was boring, and she was not prepared for her Tax Law final. Is it a very hard subject, she asked? Um, yes. . . yes, it is.

Well, I guess it's better to dream it than to live it.

Our Weekend In Pictures

Emma on the planes. She had to go twice because her first plane was a "dud" and never got off the ground.

Emma and Macey saying "Hola" to Diego and Dora.

Macey riding the rocking horse at the Charles County fair. Almost as good as the real thing.

Emma getting a ride on the dragon.

Emma going Vrooom vroom. Hopefully she never steals the real thing.

Macey on the real thing. So much joy for such a little one.

The Rest Of The Story

So here's the rest of the story from "Choose Your Own Adventure" (below):

I first thought that I might be in trouble while I was standing in line. There was a lady behind me with her three year old, and she told her three year old to be very careful and not bump the lady in front of her because she had a baby in her tummy.

Oh, no.

I had left the realm of "Is she pregnant or isn't she" and my most unmaternity maternity shirt wasn't fooling anyone. No even a total stranger.

So when the young girl running the ride asked if I was pregnant, I just confessed. "Eeeeyyessss."

I looked at Emma in terror. She really wanted to go on this ride. She liked it a lot.

The car of the ride holds four people, and the nice lady and her three year old were behind us. I asked if her three year old could sit by Emma and she could stay in the back. And I got off the ride and hoped for the best.

Emma had a great time.

Choose Your Own Adventure

Today the Cunninghams hit Kings Dominion, perhaps for the last time in 2008. While at Kings Dominion this summer, I have only ridden two rides: Scooby Doo Haunted Mansion and Avalanche. This afternoon I put on my least maternity maternity shirt but expressed concern to Garry that I still looked pregnant. He said that no one would say anything and I would not get the boot from any rides.

I got the boot from a ride.

Here's what happened.

Emma, desperate to ride the Scooby Doo Haunted Mansion ride, asked me to go with her. Macey and Garry waited elsewhere in the park as Macey is terrified of that ride.

Emma and I stood in line close to 25 minutes, braving the heat and humidity for a 90 second ride. Finally, it was our turn to get in the car, pick up the toy gun, and prepare to shoot bad goblins. The operator stopped the car and asked me, "Mam, are you pregnant?"

So choose your own adventure. What would you do?

(1) Admit that you are pregnant, take your screaming child off of the ride, soothe her with an overpriced funnel cake.

(2) Pretend outrage. Maybe you've had too many funnel cakes today, but PREGNANT? What? What?

(3) Beg for mercy. It's a calm ride, riding in a car, shooting bad guys, you've stood in line for 25 minutes, and this is all your daughter wants in the whole wide world. PLEASE!

(4) Send your little one on a dark, spooky, long ride all by herself, and hope for the best.

Alright, choose your own adventure! I'll blog later and reveal the adventure I chose.

My Summer Gals

This year Emma is enrolled in the First Flight preschool program. She enjoyed Good Shepherd last year, but since she has an October birthday, she was going to have the same teacher and the same curriculum as last year. I wanted her to have something a little different this year.

Unfortunately, the program does not start until close to the end of October. The last few days have been tough on Emma. The pool is closed. Kings Dominion has different hours. It's not summer anymore but school has not started yet, so what is this? Some mix between Summer and Fall? Sumall? Falmer? All Emma knows is that it is not fun.

But gloriously Kings Dominion is open tomorrow. For a few short hours, we can pretend that it's summer again. Yahoo!

A One Way Ticket

Apparently my hormonal mood swings almost got me a one way ticket to visit my family -- paid in full by my long-suffering husband.

Have some pity. I have two hormonal crashes going on. First, a few years ago I lost my thyroid when it went into hyperdrive and had to go through a radioactive iodine treatment. So I'm on a synthroid hormone to make up for what my thyroid no longer puts out. And to make sure I have enough for me and the baby, my thyroid levels are way high. It makes me a little manic -- nervous and unable to really focus. Or sleep. You know, they have some great merchandise for sale on QVC at 4 am.

My nesting has also gone into overdrive. I feel like there is so much to get done and I'm behind, behind, BEHIND!

So imagine feeling like you had so much to do and could not focus on any of it.

I tried explaining to Garry that this weekend we had to be crazy productive. There was much to do. Alright, he said. I did not think that he understood, so I called him back and restated how much we had to do this weekend. To which he said, Alright. I still did not think that he understood the URGENCY of it all, so I called him at work, again, and again stated how serious we had to be in our tasking this weekend. To which he said, "Utah is lovely in the fall."

But he did let me write out a list. And he's already accomplished two of the five things on said list. But if I start blogging from Utah, you'll know that a man can only take so much. . .

The Most Amazing Thing

This summer was my SUMMER OF THE BENCH! Emma was almost four and Macey was 2 1/2 this summer. They were old enough to go to the park and go to the pool and I did not have to be constantly behind them, watching every step. It was my time to observe from the bench while the girls played and played and played.

Sometimes my SUMMER OF THE BENCH worked. They generally did well at the park, but both needed help on the swings. And Emma usually would ask for help on the monkey bars at our little park across the street. But I'd tell her that monkey bars were for big kids, because, after all, this was my SUMMER OF THE BENCH and who knows when I will get another one.

But today, the most amazing thing happened. Emma made it across the monkey bars by herself. All by herself. She swung, she grabbed, she swung, she grabbed. I know that lots of kids accomplish this skill, and I know that even I was able to do this at one time, but watching Emma do it when she's so small, I think that I have to have the most talented daughter on the planet. At least for today.

Questions

Lately I've had a lot of questions going through my head.

Question 1: In Candy Land, if you start off with two oranges, do you still get to cross the bridge and proceed to the next orange, or do you have to just go two oranges?

Question 2: In Sleeping Beauty, if the fairies are only able to use their magic for good, how can they help Prince Phillip kill the evil witch?

Question 3: In the movie Transformers, when he is running away from Bumble Bee, it's daytime. Then he runs into the parking garage with that girl and when they come out two seconds later, it's night. What the? Do they really not think that we'll notice?

These are the things I struggle with.

Laughter. . . Gone Too Soon

Hearing Emma and Macey laugh and play together is a great joy. I had them 16 months apart on PURPOSE (crazy, I know) so that they could be best friends. And so far all of the work is paying off. They really do enjoy playing together most of the time. Almost as much as they enjoy tattling on each other all of the time.

When I hear them laughing, I always get a little nervous because usually great laughter turns into great sobs as the game is taken too far and someone gets hurt.

Today they were playing in their room, and my heart clenched as I heard a great, loud THUD. I caught my breath, waiting for the shrieking and crying to begin.

Instead, I heard a little giggling and Emma's voice, "Okay, now you try."

I rushed down the hall, threw open the door, and distracted them with promises of watching the Sleeping Beauty movie before Macey could try to make her own great thud.

I'm still not sure what she was dared to do.

My Best Friend

Laundry is my best friend.

It's always there for me -- day in, day out, it's a constant.

When I'm having a hard day and tell other friends I want to be alone, laundry knows better. It sticks around.

If I have a spare minute, it's always willing to spend time with me, filling up the time without thinking about what it needs to do or checking its schedule. Whatever time I have available, laundry is willing to take each little bit of it.

If I'm busy and do not have time for it, it does not get mad. It does not dodge my calls or ignore me in retribution. Laundry's friendship is perfect, and if we have not seen each other for awhile, the distance makes our relationship fonder. It grows and grows.

When I'm confused and my mind is racing, it sorts things through with me.

Bless laundry. It's the best.

The Royal Battle

I've blogged before about my ongoing battle with hardwater stains in my bathroom. It's an ongoing battle, one that I am starting to take personally. On Saturday I decided that the battle was on, and I was SO prepared. Here was my battle plan: general scrubbing, followed by bleaching, followed by OxiCleaning, followed By LimeAway, followed by CLR, followed by Mr. Clean Magic Erasers.

Can you guess the outcome?

That's right, the hardwater stain survives to fight another day. In fact, I think that I can still hear it chuckling.

So I surrendered and just put in some of those blue bowl cleaners. If I can't see it, maybe it isn't there.

(Alright, I know it's there, but maybe I can forget about it for awhile.)

Give Me What I Want . . . Please

Thank goodness that fall is here because this has been the summer of my discontent.

This summer I have experienced two large disappointments -- two things that I really prayed for and did not get. I hope that the answer is not "No, never" but rather "no, not right now" but regardless, the answer has been no. A big old Nnnnnnoooooooo.

And I have to admit, I've been really angry with God. What good is praying if you do not get what you want?

I feel like a spoiled teenager, stomping around, demanding what I want RIGHT NOW because, after all, didn't I ask nicely?

So lately I have been thinking about Chapman's Five Love Languages again. They are words of affirmation, gifts, service, quality time and physical touch. And I've realized that I've been demanding "gifts" from God as proof of love. You don't really love me unless you give me what I want. Preferably on my timetable. Which would be now.

And, surprise, that's just not healthy. As Doctor Phil would say, it's just not working for me.

I know that I should concentrate on how I express love to God, but emotionally I'm just not there. I really want to feel love, and maybe then I'll have it in me to express love. It's backwards and shallow, but it is what it is.

So here's my goal. Switch languages. I'm going to give myself quiet time with the scriptures, music, or the Ensign everyday, so maybe I can feel affirmation. And be a little more at peace with those big old no's.

Wish me luck.

A Little Crazy, Well . . . Maybe A Lot

Waldorf, Maryland is the worst possible place for me to live, considering my mental health.

I can explain.

You see, I am the youngest of seven, and by a long shot. There is a seven year gap between my nearest sister and myself, and when I was born, half of my siblings were teenagers.

So at a young age, my siblings left the nest on to bigger and better things, and I stayed home. They all left. So I developed a little thing called an "abandonment complex." Well, it's not so little. It's pretty large, actually.

When I was a month shy of 18, it was finally my turn to leave the nest and head off for bigger and better things, and I took advantage of it as fast as I could! I attended BYU in the summer term and had a great time.

I also started the weird habit of moving at least every eight months. Something better was always around the corner, after all.

Several years later (we won't go into how many), I'm in Waldorf, Maryland, where, due to the high military and government presence, people move, all the time.

And my abandonment complex has reared it's ugly head. Everybody is moving, and I'm trying to figure out why I'm still here.

I know that utopia is not on the other end of a U-Haul truck. I just do not know how to be perfectly content exactly where I am.

My Fickle Friend

Pregnancy hormones can be fickle friends. In about my fifth month, they were my best of friends. My hair looked all nice and my nails that are in a constant state of chipped were actually growing! I thought about getting a manicure because I actually had something to manicure.

But then my fickle friends went away.

And last week they turned on me -- big time.

It started with the slump. I was sick and stressed out and could not make myself do simple tasks like making the bed. I was super moody and had I been a cricket, I probably would have eaten my mate and my offspring in my wrath. My nails all broke and my hair looked like something from a Fraggle Rock movie.

The slump lasted a few days and then my hormones turned on me again. And it all started with this man coming to my door trying to sell me a cleaner for $60 a gallon. To show me how well it worked, he cleaned some things around my doorway. And suddenly I saw my house through his eyes, and it wasn't pretty. Did you know my door has mold spores on it and they are toxic?

So I vacuumed. I mopped. I scrubbed. I washed. I folded. I baked. I VACUUM PACKED, for the love.

But my nails are only so-so. And my hair is still a little fraggly. Good hormones, COME BACK!

What Am I Doing Today?

Garry has a very finely tuned system. Any little thing can upset it. Yesterday was a long day at work with an upset stomach, and unfortunately he added to the problem by having, of all things, Taco Bell for dinner. Four tacos. He ate four tacos. I know because I counted because one of them was supposed to be mine.

He paid dearly for the theft.

When dinner wracked havoc with his sensitive system, we were at WalMart. Oh dear.

I took the girls to the Jeep while Garry explored the wonders of the mens restroom in WalMart. And not the somewhat nice WalMart in LaPlata. I'm talking about the sketchy WalMart in downtown Waldorf.

A few minutes later, Garry joined us at the Jeep, pale and thoroughly shaken. All he could say for awhile was to ask me to remind him to take a shower when he got home.

Being curious, I pressed for more details. "It would have been more sanitary if I had just had an accident in my own pants. At least then I'd know where the germs came from."

I laughed so hard at the image of Garry carefully debating whether to use that only available toilet or suffer the conseuquences that I nearly went into an early labor.

Well, last night he never did get that shower.

So what am I doing today? Washing the sheets, of course.

Empty Threats

Growing up, my parents could always convince me to pick u my toys by threatening to throw them in the trash. Anything left on the floor after a certain time was eligible for the garbage heap.

I am not sure if I ever lost some toys, but the threat did keep me on my toes and generally kept my toys put away.

We have problems convincing Macey to do her fair share of cleaning up her toys. Emma is a champion picker upper almost all of the time, and I guess that Macey has realized that someone else will take care of it.

So yesterday, I brushed off the old threat. There was a miniature Dora doll on the floor in the dining room, and I asked Macey to pick it up.

"No."

Not the answer I was looking for. I tried again.

"Macey, pick up the Dora or I am going to pick her up and throw her in the trash."

Well, my Macey may be little but she's big on stubborn. She walked right over, picked Dora up, and threw her away in the kitchen trash.

That was not what I had in mind. But I guess Dora did get picked up. But I had to save her from the trash.

Got Me Again

A few months ago I made the horrible mistake of going through a Pottery Barn Kids catalogue. In the catalogue there was a girls bedroom that I fell in love with. I tore out the picture and it has been on my bulletin board in the kitchen ever since.

The primary focus of the perfect Pottery Barn room were the white bunk beds. Clearly well-made but clearly overpriced, I started my search for similar white bunk beds.

My search eventually led me to a Kids Bedroom store. You would not believe how hard it is to find white bunk beds. Not pine. Not cherry. Not mahogony. Just white. But I finally found them at this one store. And they were just too much.

A little while later I saw a sign in the window of said store that they were closing down to open back up with a new name and new inventory. Therefore "Everything Must Go!" Hot dog! The next day, I drove to the store, so excited to make a deal.

A deal was not in the works. The price, despite the sign in the window, had not budged.

A few weeks later I tried again when they reopened. It was a Grand Opening! SALE! SALE! SALE! So I dragged my girls again, so excited to make a deal.

A deal was not in the works. The price, despite the sign in the window, had not budged.

But this weekend I saw a new sign in the window. Clearance Sale! Everything Must Go! Everything in the store was 40 - 70 percent off! So this morning I dragged my girls back to the store, excited to make a deal.

A deal was not in the works. The price, despite the sign in the window, had not budged.

I hate this store.

Toothpaste Wars

Some couples fight over the toothpaste tube; they disagree over where to squeeze: bottom, middle, top. It's an ongoing battle, comparable to people who like the toilet paper to roll from the top versus the bottom.

Garry and I do not fight over the tube. In fact, we do not have fights over toothpaste at all. Yet.

Because we certainly have a problem, and it is getting worse.

Garry starts a new tube of toothpaste before the old one is completely gone. And it drives me a little crazy. You should finish the old one, I mean really finish the old one, I mean wring every useable portion of toothpaste out of the tube before you move on to a new one. It's just the responsbile thing to do.

Apparently Garry disagrees. He does not throw away the old tube and thus I am allowed to completely finish it off, but I think it's rather selfish to delve into a new one and leave your spouse to do the dirty work.

Right now we have three tubes of toothpaste stacked in our holder. Tell me that's not a little ridiculous.