A Random Event
On the way home from Elijah's soccer game 2 weeks ago a random event happened and I wanted to share it, because it's one of those things that sounds crazy and unbelievable unless you were the one who actually saw it.
We were driving down the freeway, 70 mph, and the pick-up truck about 50 feet ahead of us suddenly tipped to the front left corner, and then there was a tire loose, bouncing down the freeway, to the immediate left of the truck. The truck swerved just a little, but the driver quickly regained control, and then eased the truck to a stop on the left side of the freeway. The tire continued to bounce and slow in the same direction and at roughly the same speed as the truck. They ended up only a few feet away from each other.
I bet the guy sat there for a while, catching his breath, shaking, and being grateful that he didn't die. Cause I was just watching and I was thinking the whole time, "Oh my gosh, we're going to watch this man die." I was also thinking, "How in the world is that possible?!"
Elijah's response? "There's a tire on the road!"
Random Information
(don't assume that one paragraph leads to another)
We are experiencing a spoon shortage. We even offered the kids a dollar for each spoon found, thinking they had taken them outside, and they came back with no spoons in hand. Perhaps the spoons no longer had need of us, but we sure still have need of them, especially with winter on the horizon and good soups on the menu.
We have been playing Blox Party for the wii WAY too much. But it's fun. And that should console me.
I made clam chowder this week and tried things a little differently, since I haven't been making it very well for a while. I had started to lose hope that it would ever taste really good. (Maybe I'm just lousy at making clam chowder?) ... And apparently what I did was genius, because it was the best clam chowder I've made in 3 years!
The next day I was talking on the phone and heating up a bowl of clam chowder in the microwave. Apparently I can't multitask, because I dropped the piping hot chowder on the ground and it went EVERYWHERE. About 1/2 stayed in the bowl, and the other 1/2 splattered onto the floor, wall, china hutch, my pants, and my bare feet. It hurt, but I wasn't seriously burned. I was more annoyed that I had to clean up chowder for 20 minutes.
Totino's pizzas crack me up. On the box they have the "story of Totino's" or something like that, and it shows the Totino couple opening their restaurant in the 60's and showcases their quality pizzas. ... As if Totino's were actually quality pizzas.
I often sleep in until 9:30 or 10 a.m. these days. Why? Because Rob and I stay up way too late talking or watching a movie or just SPENDING TIME TOGETHER. Precious, precious time. And when I go to bed at 1 a.m., I am NOT getting up at 8. Because I'd be a horrible, awful mother if I did. I realized that this morning, as I took my morning shower at 10:15. I was responding to my kids in a rational way, even a nice way, and that would not have been possible if I'd actually gotten up at a decent hour.
Moral of the last paragraph: I should go to bed earlier. Is that going to happen? No.
I have been in a very Philosophical Place lately, which produces some interesting results in my life. There's an intensity about it that has been unknown to me for quite some time. I feel like I am gearing up for battle, if you will, but I don't know much ABOUT that battle. Who it's against or what it's for, or even WHEN it is. ... I just know I have to be prepared for it. So I will be.
Otherwise my life feels like a nearly blank slate. Only I don't know what to fill it with, quite. There are too many options. ... Too many good things. ...
All my sweatshirts are hanging up in my closet again. What's happiness, if this is not?
Showing posts with label random. Show all posts
Showing posts with label random. Show all posts
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Randomness
All I have is randomness in my head right now, so that's all this blog post is going to be. I hope it will be entertaining enough, though, to justify the randomness. Here goes.
The Watchtower
I think I already said that I'm sick. Got sick early Friday morning and I still feel like a truck ran over me. I'm just SO TIRED still. Yesterday I went to the doctor and found out I officially have Strep Throat. ... Strep sucks.
But today I found a good side-effect of having strep! My kids are with a friend so that Rob could go to work and I could sleep. I was in bed, half-awake half-asleep, when there was a rather insistent knock at the door. I opened it to find two very nice people standing there. Jehovah's Witnesses. Truth be told, I've never had a JW at my door before. Heard lots of stories, but never personally had the experience. They looked at me in my PJ's and bedhead, pale face (Rob says I've been pale for days. That's paler than normal, so it must be pretty pasty white) and sort of paused. I told them I was sick, and they believed me (hard not to tell that I'm sick, since I'm so out of it). So they just handed me a copy of The Watchtower and went on their way. Fine by me. It's titled "Why God Saved Noah. Why We Should Care." I'm debating if I'll read it or not. I mean, I already KNOW why God saved Noah, and I already DO care.
Parley Parker Pratt
Another good side-effect: I've been able to read a lot. I'm so tired, and I don't move much, so I'm in bed for a good part of the day, or sitting on the couch. But it's maddening to just do NOTHING. So I've been making good progress on Parley P. Pratt's Autobiography. He's my great-great-whatever-grandfather, and I love the man. Bold and brave. Probably was something of a prick at times, but he was so motivated to do right! Gotta love it.
Of course he's fond of making grand statements about how everything that he's gone through is harder than anything anyone else has gone through. How the sufferings that the State of Missouri put the Mormons through marked Missouri as a tyrannical state for all of eternity. A little harsh, I think. Or how the joy of the Saints was greater than any joy anyone else could ever have experienced. But I think this kind of talk may have been an 1800's thing to do: over-the-top emotional and romantic. Very interesting to try to interpret it back into modern-day thinking terms.
Lilburn Boggs
Anyways, I've just read the part about the sufferings in Missouri. Even without the flowery romanticism, the stuff that the Mormons went through in the 1830's in Missouri, ... wow. Tough stuff. Painful, painful stuff. And Parley isn't nice to the State of Missouri or the Governor of the state at the time: Lilburn W. Boggs (and several other men. Truly, some of them were more mobsters than law-keepers. Some of them were relatively good guys, though. Gotta keep it fair).
Parley has this to say about Governor Boggs, calling him "the modern Herod":
"Lilburn W. Boggs is dragging out a remnant of existence in California, with the mark of Cain upon his brow, and the fear of Cain within his heart, lest he that findeth him shall slay him. He is a living stink, and will go down to posterity with the credit of a wholesale murderer."
So, I was thinking about this man, and why he was such a rotten apple, cause I really think he wasn't a nice man or a good man. And I think I've come up with a reason that no one has really looked into before: his name. His first name was Lilburn. What kind of name is that? And you can very quickly come up with a great nickname for that: Lily. Poor little Lily: made fun of his whole life for his rotten name. Not that this gives him an excuse for being so terrible, of course, but I do think we should all be a little more sympathetic to poor little Lily next time we think of him (assuming, of course, that we ever DO think of him).
Uberty
The other day I was getting into the shower when Miciah walked in to use the bathroom. She looked at my body and said, "Mom, why are yours longer than mine?" My what, sweetie? "Your these," she said and she pointed to her own chest. Ah, yes. I said, "Because I'm a woman. Someday you'll hit puberty and get them." "What's uberty?" It's not 'uberty', Miciah. It's P-Puberty. "What's puberty?" I told her it's when you start changing into a woman. Much to my surprise she said, "Oh. So like, when I'm in high school I'll get those?" Yeah. High school or Junior High. And that answer seemed to satisfy her alright.
"You're so pretty all the time."
Elijah is a charmer and a sweet little boy. Today he wanted to lay down with me, which was fine, of course. All the kids are suffering somewhat from Mom Deprivation. Elijah wanted to know if, when I got better, I could play with him. Yes, of COURSE! I would LOVE TO when I'm better. They've all been pretty understanding. Anyways, he was laying next to me this morning and he said, "Mom? I love you." I love you, too, Elijah. "Mom? I like you." I like you, too, Elijah. "Mom, do you know why I like you?" No, why. "Because you're so pretty. All the time. You're so pretty all the time."
Awww.
Rob is a Gem
Rob has been great with me being sick. I think it helps that I actually LOOK sick. I hate when he's sick, but the only indication that he's sick is that he says so. When I can TELL he's sick, it's a little easier. And Rob says that I'm very pale. Plus, I just sit there half the time, staring into space. Luckily, this is abnormal behavior for me.
Anyways. He took off work on Friday (or rather worked from home), since I was completely incapacitated. I couldn't even get out of bed, or sit up. Literally. It was awful. He cut back his Sunday committments so he could take care of the kids. And yesterday he worked from home again, since I wasn't any better. He set up the doctor's appointment for me. And he's completely taken care of anything and everything that needs done. He's made dinners and lunches. Put Miciah on the bus in the morning. Grocery shopping. Changing diapers. Everything. I am so lucky that he is such a good guy.
Today he had to go into work for a while. I told him I wasn't capable of watching my kids today. I WANT to be, but I'm still pretty out of it. So we called up some friends and begged them to take the boys. We have good boys, and they were happy to help. They sent Rob home with dinner, which makes me want to cry. How nice is that? We'll totally have to do something nice for them when I'm better.
And that's all I've got. Rob is laying down, says he feels really tired. Uh-oh. That's DEFINITELY not good. Keep your fingers crossed for us, and a few prayers might not be a bad idea, either.
The Watchtower
I think I already said that I'm sick. Got sick early Friday morning and I still feel like a truck ran over me. I'm just SO TIRED still. Yesterday I went to the doctor and found out I officially have Strep Throat. ... Strep sucks.
But today I found a good side-effect of having strep! My kids are with a friend so that Rob could go to work and I could sleep. I was in bed, half-awake half-asleep, when there was a rather insistent knock at the door. I opened it to find two very nice people standing there. Jehovah's Witnesses. Truth be told, I've never had a JW at my door before. Heard lots of stories, but never personally had the experience. They looked at me in my PJ's and bedhead, pale face (Rob says I've been pale for days. That's paler than normal, so it must be pretty pasty white) and sort of paused. I told them I was sick, and they believed me (hard not to tell that I'm sick, since I'm so out of it). So they just handed me a copy of The Watchtower and went on their way. Fine by me. It's titled "Why God Saved Noah. Why We Should Care." I'm debating if I'll read it or not. I mean, I already KNOW why God saved Noah, and I already DO care.
Parley Parker Pratt
Another good side-effect: I've been able to read a lot. I'm so tired, and I don't move much, so I'm in bed for a good part of the day, or sitting on the couch. But it's maddening to just do NOTHING. So I've been making good progress on Parley P. Pratt's Autobiography. He's my great-great-whatever-grandfather, and I love the man. Bold and brave. Probably was something of a prick at times, but he was so motivated to do right! Gotta love it.
Of course he's fond of making grand statements about how everything that he's gone through is harder than anything anyone else has gone through. How the sufferings that the State of Missouri put the Mormons through marked Missouri as a tyrannical state for all of eternity. A little harsh, I think. Or how the joy of the Saints was greater than any joy anyone else could ever have experienced. But I think this kind of talk may have been an 1800's thing to do: over-the-top emotional and romantic. Very interesting to try to interpret it back into modern-day thinking terms.
Lilburn Boggs
Anyways, I've just read the part about the sufferings in Missouri. Even without the flowery romanticism, the stuff that the Mormons went through in the 1830's in Missouri, ... wow. Tough stuff. Painful, painful stuff. And Parley isn't nice to the State of Missouri or the Governor of the state at the time: Lilburn W. Boggs (and several other men. Truly, some of them were more mobsters than law-keepers. Some of them were relatively good guys, though. Gotta keep it fair).
Parley has this to say about Governor Boggs, calling him "the modern Herod":
"Lilburn W. Boggs is dragging out a remnant of existence in California, with the mark of Cain upon his brow, and the fear of Cain within his heart, lest he that findeth him shall slay him. He is a living stink, and will go down to posterity with the credit of a wholesale murderer."
So, I was thinking about this man, and why he was such a rotten apple, cause I really think he wasn't a nice man or a good man. And I think I've come up with a reason that no one has really looked into before: his name. His first name was Lilburn. What kind of name is that? And you can very quickly come up with a great nickname for that: Lily. Poor little Lily: made fun of his whole life for his rotten name. Not that this gives him an excuse for being so terrible, of course, but I do think we should all be a little more sympathetic to poor little Lily next time we think of him (assuming, of course, that we ever DO think of him).
Uberty
The other day I was getting into the shower when Miciah walked in to use the bathroom. She looked at my body and said, "Mom, why are yours longer than mine?" My what, sweetie? "Your these," she said and she pointed to her own chest. Ah, yes. I said, "Because I'm a woman. Someday you'll hit puberty and get them." "What's uberty?" It's not 'uberty', Miciah. It's P-Puberty. "What's puberty?" I told her it's when you start changing into a woman. Much to my surprise she said, "Oh. So like, when I'm in high school I'll get those?" Yeah. High school or Junior High. And that answer seemed to satisfy her alright.
"You're so pretty all the time."
Elijah is a charmer and a sweet little boy. Today he wanted to lay down with me, which was fine, of course. All the kids are suffering somewhat from Mom Deprivation. Elijah wanted to know if, when I got better, I could play with him. Yes, of COURSE! I would LOVE TO when I'm better. They've all been pretty understanding. Anyways, he was laying next to me this morning and he said, "Mom? I love you." I love you, too, Elijah. "Mom? I like you." I like you, too, Elijah. "Mom, do you know why I like you?" No, why. "Because you're so pretty. All the time. You're so pretty all the time."
Awww.
Rob is a Gem
Rob has been great with me being sick. I think it helps that I actually LOOK sick. I hate when he's sick, but the only indication that he's sick is that he says so. When I can TELL he's sick, it's a little easier. And Rob says that I'm very pale. Plus, I just sit there half the time, staring into space. Luckily, this is abnormal behavior for me.
Anyways. He took off work on Friday (or rather worked from home), since I was completely incapacitated. I couldn't even get out of bed, or sit up. Literally. It was awful. He cut back his Sunday committments so he could take care of the kids. And yesterday he worked from home again, since I wasn't any better. He set up the doctor's appointment for me. And he's completely taken care of anything and everything that needs done. He's made dinners and lunches. Put Miciah on the bus in the morning. Grocery shopping. Changing diapers. Everything. I am so lucky that he is such a good guy.
Today he had to go into work for a while. I told him I wasn't capable of watching my kids today. I WANT to be, but I'm still pretty out of it. So we called up some friends and begged them to take the boys. We have good boys, and they were happy to help. They sent Rob home with dinner, which makes me want to cry. How nice is that? We'll totally have to do something nice for them when I'm better.
And that's all I've got. Rob is laying down, says he feels really tired. Uh-oh. That's DEFINITELY not good. Keep your fingers crossed for us, and a few prayers might not be a bad idea, either.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Poop Post
Let's talk about poop for a minute. You're thinking, "Why should we talk about poop?" And I'm thinking, "Why SHOULDN'T we talk about poop?" Honestly, people, it's just poop.
(As a forewarning, this entire post is about poop. So if you're a little squeemish about poop (and that's alright if you are), then you won't want to read any further.)
And why do I want to talk about poop? Because no one ever does! I've been thinking about why we don't talk about poop, and I've come up with 2 reasons, which I shall discuss in some small detail befitting a mind as young and inexperienced as mine (that last part was just for Parley P.--yea for 19th century writing! Sorry, that was a tangent).
Reason #1 - Poop is gross. Well, my 5-year-old son thinks that poop is funny, not gross. And if you're about to say, "Poop is not funny," then just say the word "poop" outloud to a group of people and see if half of them don't instantly laugh. You know what I'm saying. ... I'm not suggesting, though, that poop need be funny all the time. I'm only saying that it CAN be funny.
So why do we think poop is gross? This is what I've come up with: Poop can make you sick, right? Too bad people didn't have that figured out for eons, cause it certainly would have kept a lot of diseases at bay. So it isn't poop in and of itself that is gross; it's the lack of proper sanitation that is gross (and just the idea of improper sanitation makes me want to throw up, it's so gross). But we live in a sanitation-saavy era, so I think we can be mature and move past the idea that poop HAS TO BE gross.
Reason #2 - Poop is personal. We all, with little exception, poop in private. But we ALL poop, so it's a universal personal thing. And hence, I think we should be able to talk about it. Not that I want to be talking about textures or colors or anything like that. That might be a little TOO personal for me.
Over the years I've had an occasional poop story that I've wanted to share, but felt I couldn't, since "we don't talk about poop." So now I'm going to tell all the stories, observations, and comments about poop that I've accumulated. Right here. In this Poop Post.
Observation: Some people enjoy the process of pooping. Most of these people are men, I've decided. One of those men is my husband and I've tried to grill him on why pooping is "enjoyable." I personally would describe the process of pooping more like a chore that has to get done, and why not get it done as quickly as possible. I would describe cleaning the toilet as more enjoyable than pooping. So how is it that he thinks it's enjoyable? I don't know, because I still, even after his explanations, don't get it. Because the reasons make no sense to me.
Comment: Poop is pschyological. At least for me it can be. For instance, if I'm stressed and really busy or nervous, I won't poop at all. For days. The best example I have of this came right after I got married. Inviting a new person into my life and sharing everything with him, including a bathroom, wasn't exactly an easy transition for me. Nor was it for him. Anyways, I was so anxious about it that I didn't poop for weeks. And I didn't get sick; I was fine. Which makes me think that pooping is half in our heads.
I am happy to report, though, that I now poop on a daily, or near-daily basis. And this is much healthier.
Story: I gave birth to all 3 of my children via C-section. After the surgery the doctors give you lots of stool softeners, since your body shuts down after traumatic events like major surgery. But they won't let you go home until you've had a successful bowel movement (which is just a fancy way of saying, "You've pooped"). Well, after baby number 2 I was taking all the prescribed stool softeners, but still things were not going very well. And so my first after-baby bowel movement was ... well, we won't go there. Let's just say it wasn't good. And for the next nine months of breastfeeding, I dealt with the consequences of that one horrid poop experience. This meant that pooping was always painful and usually bloody.
For baby number 3 I told the doctor that I was bringing my own stool softeners with me to the hospital, and that I would be taking at least double the prescribed amount. I wasn't about to re-do 9 months of pooping hell.
Observation: It wasn't until years later when I did a health challenge and started drinking the right amount of water (which was at least double what I'd normally been drinking) that I realized the connection between pooping and hydration. Moral of this observation: DRINK MORE WATER!
Story: I might have told this story before, but it bears re-telling for this Poop Post. When Elijah was 2-years-old and still in diapers, I laid him down for a nap in his room. He was quiet and I was happy that he was asleep when I walked by his room and even through a closed door I could smell that he had a poopy diaper. I figured he must be laying right in front of the door, too (something he often did in those days), since I could smell it so well. I finally decided to check it out and opened the door to see Elijah standing up, happy as can be, playing in his own poop. His diaper was on the floor, and there was poop all over the place. Of course I was frustrated at the prospect of cleaning up all that poop (improper sanitation, right there!), but I had to laugh when I turned to the wall and saw a "poop print" on the wall. And the print wasn't made by his hands or feet, it was the mark of his two little butt cheeks, with the penis mark underneath. ... I decided not to take a picture, so that I wouldn't scar him as a teenager, but the image is permanently imbedded in my mind.
Story: When Miciah was 3 or 4 years old, she went through a random phase. Well, part of it wasn't random--she pretended to be a princess or an animal or whatever. That's pretty typical kid stuff. So I guess what made it random wasn't the what, it was the how. She was in the habit during this time of taking all her clothes off to go to the bathroom. Why all her clothes, I don't know, but it doesn't have to make sense to a 3-year-old. Anyways, one day she ran out of the bathroom, turned around in front of us, bent over and said, "Look! I have a donkey tail!" And there, dangling from between her little butt cheeks was a gross piece of toilet paper. Despite our best attempts at Parental Reservation, we laughed out loud. Which meant that she repeated the event several times, just to get the reaction. We learned to not laugh.
Observation: All little kids think poop is funny, of course, but they also know it's gross. The other day Elijah said, "What if there was a pile of poop that reached all the way into the sky?" I dunno, what if there was? "That'd be gross." I imagined that pile of poop in our backyard, just to see what I'd think about a huge pile of poop. Yep, it'd be gross.
It's the smell that gets Elijah. If Teancom ever has a poopy diaper, Elijah wrinkles up his nose instantly and turns to me with a very concerned look on his face: "Teancom is stinky! Change him, Mommy!" ... Elijah will also have me turn on the bathroom fan when he's pooping, if it gets too stinky for him. It's funny to walk into the bathroom and see a cute little 4-year-old, feet not even touching the floor, plugging his nose and saying, "I'm stinky." Makes me laugh every time.
Story: Our whole family was outside, two houses down the street, when Elijah turned to me and said, "Mom, I need to go potty!" I said okay and then kinda stalled for a minute or two, after which I couldn't see Elijah any more. I figured he had walked into R&C's house to go potty. That's my aunt and uncle, so he's used to using their bathroom, too. Or maybe he'd asked Rob to take him potty. But no, there was Rob standing right there. Huh. Well, Elijah was 4 1/2 at the time, and probably capable of using the potty all by himself. I didn't worry about it.
Pretty soon the door to our house opened and Elijah was calling to us. I told Rob that he needed to go take care of that, and Rob walked up to the house. Soon Rob was calling to me, too, so I figured I'd better stop being lazy and actually go see what they needed. As soon as I got to the door I knew I was in for a good laugh. There was Rob bent over a naked Elijah covered in poop, with his pants, also covered in poop, around his ankles. Rob took care of Elijah while I herded the other two children away from the poop trail that led from the bathroom all the way to the front door. It took a good half an hour to clean it all up, and Rob was NOT happy about the whole thing. That's understandable, I guess, but I thought it was hilarious! I mean, come on, just the imagery of that. You got a little boy, naked except for the pants around his ankles, walking to the front door, opening it, and calling out to his parents standing outside, peacefully chatting with friends, completely unaware of the mess. Isn't that just funny?!
I didn't convince Rob right then that it was hilarious. But he stopped being quite so grumpy about it. ... I got the sense that he thought the whole thing was my fault, but I'll take the blame if someone has to. I think the half hour of clean up was totally worth it for the laugh!
And that's all I've got about poop. If you've read this far, and if you're now wondering what subject I WON'T cover, you can rest assured that I won't be covering any subject more personal than poop. But if I ever do, then you don't have to read it anyways.
(As a forewarning, this entire post is about poop. So if you're a little squeemish about poop (and that's alright if you are), then you won't want to read any further.)
And why do I want to talk about poop? Because no one ever does! I've been thinking about why we don't talk about poop, and I've come up with 2 reasons, which I shall discuss in some small detail befitting a mind as young and inexperienced as mine (that last part was just for Parley P.--yea for 19th century writing! Sorry, that was a tangent).
Reason #1 - Poop is gross. Well, my 5-year-old son thinks that poop is funny, not gross. And if you're about to say, "Poop is not funny," then just say the word "poop" outloud to a group of people and see if half of them don't instantly laugh. You know what I'm saying. ... I'm not suggesting, though, that poop need be funny all the time. I'm only saying that it CAN be funny.
So why do we think poop is gross? This is what I've come up with: Poop can make you sick, right? Too bad people didn't have that figured out for eons, cause it certainly would have kept a lot of diseases at bay. So it isn't poop in and of itself that is gross; it's the lack of proper sanitation that is gross (and just the idea of improper sanitation makes me want to throw up, it's so gross). But we live in a sanitation-saavy era, so I think we can be mature and move past the idea that poop HAS TO BE gross.
Reason #2 - Poop is personal. We all, with little exception, poop in private. But we ALL poop, so it's a universal personal thing. And hence, I think we should be able to talk about it. Not that I want to be talking about textures or colors or anything like that. That might be a little TOO personal for me.
Over the years I've had an occasional poop story that I've wanted to share, but felt I couldn't, since "we don't talk about poop." So now I'm going to tell all the stories, observations, and comments about poop that I've accumulated. Right here. In this Poop Post.
Observation: Some people enjoy the process of pooping. Most of these people are men, I've decided. One of those men is my husband and I've tried to grill him on why pooping is "enjoyable." I personally would describe the process of pooping more like a chore that has to get done, and why not get it done as quickly as possible. I would describe cleaning the toilet as more enjoyable than pooping. So how is it that he thinks it's enjoyable? I don't know, because I still, even after his explanations, don't get it. Because the reasons make no sense to me.
Comment: Poop is pschyological. At least for me it can be. For instance, if I'm stressed and really busy or nervous, I won't poop at all. For days. The best example I have of this came right after I got married. Inviting a new person into my life and sharing everything with him, including a bathroom, wasn't exactly an easy transition for me. Nor was it for him. Anyways, I was so anxious about it that I didn't poop for weeks. And I didn't get sick; I was fine. Which makes me think that pooping is half in our heads.
I am happy to report, though, that I now poop on a daily, or near-daily basis. And this is much healthier.
Story: I gave birth to all 3 of my children via C-section. After the surgery the doctors give you lots of stool softeners, since your body shuts down after traumatic events like major surgery. But they won't let you go home until you've had a successful bowel movement (which is just a fancy way of saying, "You've pooped"). Well, after baby number 2 I was taking all the prescribed stool softeners, but still things were not going very well. And so my first after-baby bowel movement was ... well, we won't go there. Let's just say it wasn't good. And for the next nine months of breastfeeding, I dealt with the consequences of that one horrid poop experience. This meant that pooping was always painful and usually bloody.
For baby number 3 I told the doctor that I was bringing my own stool softeners with me to the hospital, and that I would be taking at least double the prescribed amount. I wasn't about to re-do 9 months of pooping hell.
Observation: It wasn't until years later when I did a health challenge and started drinking the right amount of water (which was at least double what I'd normally been drinking) that I realized the connection between pooping and hydration. Moral of this observation: DRINK MORE WATER!
Story: I might have told this story before, but it bears re-telling for this Poop Post. When Elijah was 2-years-old and still in diapers, I laid him down for a nap in his room. He was quiet and I was happy that he was asleep when I walked by his room and even through a closed door I could smell that he had a poopy diaper. I figured he must be laying right in front of the door, too (something he often did in those days), since I could smell it so well. I finally decided to check it out and opened the door to see Elijah standing up, happy as can be, playing in his own poop. His diaper was on the floor, and there was poop all over the place. Of course I was frustrated at the prospect of cleaning up all that poop (improper sanitation, right there!), but I had to laugh when I turned to the wall and saw a "poop print" on the wall. And the print wasn't made by his hands or feet, it was the mark of his two little butt cheeks, with the penis mark underneath. ... I decided not to take a picture, so that I wouldn't scar him as a teenager, but the image is permanently imbedded in my mind.
Story: When Miciah was 3 or 4 years old, she went through a random phase. Well, part of it wasn't random--she pretended to be a princess or an animal or whatever. That's pretty typical kid stuff. So I guess what made it random wasn't the what, it was the how. She was in the habit during this time of taking all her clothes off to go to the bathroom. Why all her clothes, I don't know, but it doesn't have to make sense to a 3-year-old. Anyways, one day she ran out of the bathroom, turned around in front of us, bent over and said, "Look! I have a donkey tail!" And there, dangling from between her little butt cheeks was a gross piece of toilet paper. Despite our best attempts at Parental Reservation, we laughed out loud. Which meant that she repeated the event several times, just to get the reaction. We learned to not laugh.
Observation: All little kids think poop is funny, of course, but they also know it's gross. The other day Elijah said, "What if there was a pile of poop that reached all the way into the sky?" I dunno, what if there was? "That'd be gross." I imagined that pile of poop in our backyard, just to see what I'd think about a huge pile of poop. Yep, it'd be gross.
It's the smell that gets Elijah. If Teancom ever has a poopy diaper, Elijah wrinkles up his nose instantly and turns to me with a very concerned look on his face: "Teancom is stinky! Change him, Mommy!" ... Elijah will also have me turn on the bathroom fan when he's pooping, if it gets too stinky for him. It's funny to walk into the bathroom and see a cute little 4-year-old, feet not even touching the floor, plugging his nose and saying, "I'm stinky." Makes me laugh every time.
Story: Our whole family was outside, two houses down the street, when Elijah turned to me and said, "Mom, I need to go potty!" I said okay and then kinda stalled for a minute or two, after which I couldn't see Elijah any more. I figured he had walked into R&C's house to go potty. That's my aunt and uncle, so he's used to using their bathroom, too. Or maybe he'd asked Rob to take him potty. But no, there was Rob standing right there. Huh. Well, Elijah was 4 1/2 at the time, and probably capable of using the potty all by himself. I didn't worry about it.
Pretty soon the door to our house opened and Elijah was calling to us. I told Rob that he needed to go take care of that, and Rob walked up to the house. Soon Rob was calling to me, too, so I figured I'd better stop being lazy and actually go see what they needed. As soon as I got to the door I knew I was in for a good laugh. There was Rob bent over a naked Elijah covered in poop, with his pants, also covered in poop, around his ankles. Rob took care of Elijah while I herded the other two children away from the poop trail that led from the bathroom all the way to the front door. It took a good half an hour to clean it all up, and Rob was NOT happy about the whole thing. That's understandable, I guess, but I thought it was hilarious! I mean, come on, just the imagery of that. You got a little boy, naked except for the pants around his ankles, walking to the front door, opening it, and calling out to his parents standing outside, peacefully chatting with friends, completely unaware of the mess. Isn't that just funny?!
I didn't convince Rob right then that it was hilarious. But he stopped being quite so grumpy about it. ... I got the sense that he thought the whole thing was my fault, but I'll take the blame if someone has to. I think the half hour of clean up was totally worth it for the laugh!
And that's all I've got about poop. If you've read this far, and if you're now wondering what subject I WON'T cover, you can rest assured that I won't be covering any subject more personal than poop. But if I ever do, then you don't have to read it anyways.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
The Kind of Randomness You Don't See on TV
This is going to be a disjointed entry full of the kind of randomness you don't see on TV. Don't expect paragraphs to follow what came before, though there could be some that are loosely related. ...
Today I am home from church for the second week in a row. I had been feeling decent all week until Friday came and my cough moved into my chest. I now can get winded from climbing the stairs. I thought about going to my soccer game Friday night and then tried to lightly jog to the mailbox, just so see. And I was so tired just from doing that! Yikes! So no soccer game.
I slept decent last night, for the first time in a few days. It had been taking me an hour or so to calm my cough enough to just GO to sleep. And I've been coughing so hard with this dry cough that I've pulled or strained muscles in my sides. My body is exhausted and I've been pretty out of it. But today I feel significantly better so far. This is good. And even though I feel a little better and I'm sleeping better, Teancom seems to be at the peak of his not-feeling-well situation. His cough sounds as nasty as mine does, and he's been spending significant time sleeping in my arms at night. Which means I'm sleeping spectacularly! It's so tragic when such little people get sick. ... So far all of us have been hit fairly hard with this cold. Everyone, that is, except Miciah, who hasn't skipped a beat. Sometimes I wish I had her immune system.
My cough is becoming my best friend. It has taken over my social life and demands a lot of attention. True, it just takes, takes, takes--hence I don't see a long-lasting relationship for us. Eventually the emotional wear and tear will break us apart.
Teancom loves the Wiggles. And while Anthony is hot, there really isn't much in their shows for adults. Having said that, I know about the Wiggles history and their new lead singer and all that. How do I know this? I look it up. It is FASCINATING to me that a group dedicated to singing subpar songs directed at children has taken over the world and makes more money than most other entertainers dream of making. ... To add to my Wiggles knowledge, the kids got an older Wiggles video from the library. Back when Anthony wore green instead of blue, and Anthony did Captain Feathersword. I'd only read about this phenomenon and felt priviledged to observe it for myself.
Teancom came to wake me up from a nap the other day and instead of saying, "Wake up, Mommy," like he often does, he said, "Wake up, Jeff!" Yea for Wiggles infiltration!
I asked Teancom if he was tired. He said, "I not tiger! I a wion!"
Elijah has been Captian Destructo. It's amazing the messes he's been making. The kind that you admire because they're THAT impressive. And he's been uber hyper, too. Fun times over here. When Elijah gets hyper and destructive, he needs a nap. The boy only takes a nap once every 2 or 3 weeks or so. He won't take them unless he's exhausted, and then he stays up late on the day he takes naps. So it's a trade-off, really.
A few weeks ago I convinced him to take a nap on my bed by telling him that he only had to lay quietly with his eyes closed for 20 minutes and after that if he was still awake--which he probably would be, I told him--then he could get up. I set the timer and went back to get him when 20 minutes was over. Of course he was asleep because he falls asleep faster than any other human I know. I knew he would be asleep, so it was rather devious of me, really. But I forgot to put him in a pull-up, so he wet the bed. And he was sleeping on my bed. And so we spent that night on an air mattress in the living room. ... When he woke up from that nap, though, and cutely enough he didn't move from the bed but said, "Mom, can I get up now?" That made me happy. He is a rather obedient kid.
Yesterday he desperately needed a nap again. I laid down with him this time. I learned from last time and put him in a pull-up, which made him angry. He was crying and yelling at me and was very upset. I left him alone for a few seconds and then came back and laid down with him, giving him the same deal: We lay down together for 20 minutes and then he could get back up. I fell alseep for a little while because I'm sick and pretty dang tired myself. Before that, though, when we were just laying down, I would open my eyes every so often and if Elijah's eyes were open, I'd say, "Close your eyes, Elijah," and he would. I knew we had him, though, when I opened my eyes to see his open, too, and said, "Close your eyes," to which he responded, "Good night, Mom."
The boys are delightful to parent. I will someday write whole essays about the differences between parenting Miciah plus the boys all day and just the boys. Because it's amazing how different it is. Just thinking about it makes me want to cry and giggle at the same time.
Teancom is sitting next to me wearing his footie pajamas and eating cereal while watching Wiggles. His hair is spiked because he wanted to spike it just like Elijah. Course I sent Elijah to church and Teancom is home with me. So it's cute to see this sick little boy with snot dribbling from his nose, with spiked hair. It helps with the whole picture that his diaper is still nasty and unchanged, cause he doesn't want me to change it. Somehow that makes it extra cute.
Elijah makes lots of webs still. One of his best was at a friend's house. Him and his BFF found my friend's yarn and made a gigantic, spectacular web. Really, it was the best one he's ever made. They stretched it around, and then wrapped it around about 10 different objects spanning 2 rooms. It was cool. He will make webs and knots from anything that's remotely rope-ish. Including appliances with plugs--the cord is the rope. I am continually impressed with what he comes up with.
Yesterday he actually got his hands on real rope. Teancom pulled it out and Elijah started planning out his fantastic web. It was fun to hear him in the planning stages: "We'll wrap it around the lamp and then tape it to the wall and then over to the chair..." Pretty cute.
The tooth fairy forgot to bring Miciah her money the day she lost her tooth. The tooth fairy helper assigned to Miciah is named Snaggletooth (Rob thought that was very clever) and there is some debate in the house if Snaggletooth is a boy or girl. And of course we don't know for sure, since Snaggletooth hasn't said one way or the other. Anyways, I suggested she write Snaggletooth a note telling him/her how disappointed she was in his/her performance and that she now should get double what Snaggletooth was going to bring before. Miciah thought that was a good idea, and after she walked out of the room Rob turned to me and said, "Oops." Yeah.
She wrote Snaggletooth a note that said something about how he/she had forgotten to bring her money and that she thought he/she should now bring her double. She ended the note with "Ok or Not Ok?" Snaggletooth brought her a 50-cent piece (which doesn't fit in her piggy bank, but Snaggletooth has no way of knowing that, of course) and apologized for being late and then told her she should try to be a little braver next time she loses a tooth.
We sometimes promise Elijah a treat under his pillow if he goes to bed good. Elijah falls asleep really fast, but he sometimes needs some motivation to be still, and the treat works well as that motivation. The other day, though, it cracked me up to watch him as he first got up in the morning. It had been weeks, probably, since we'd promised him a treat, but he got up and the first thing he did was check under his pillow for a treat. It made me smile. Here's this cute little boy who hasn't complained at all about not getting a treat for weeks, but who still looks for that treat, just in case it's there. This would explain why his pillow is always on the floor when I go in the room--he's always checking for that treat! In fact, I thought that was so cute and so innocent and sweet, that we've started giving him treats a little more often.
My kids sit near the W's at church. They keep me sane and Elijah in particular really really likes them. JW will sit and draw with him and Elijah can't wait until I tell him that he can go sit with her. Sometimes what they draw or write cracks me up and I keep it. The kids draw on scrap paper and one of those scraps has been a form that asks for your name and address, stuff like that. This has been a fun form over time, because the kids love "filling it out" in entertaining ways. One of my favorite was Miciah filling out the form correctly and then the last line read like this:
Parent or Guardian: Robert Print name: Rob
One of the times JW filled it out for Elijah in the way Elijah dictated and it included the names of everyone in their family, everyone in our family, and then "Blanket". And that made me smile.
Miciah is writing and writing and writing these days. Her spelling isn't always on, but she's doing it all herself and that's awesome. One of my favorite spellings of hers is "wut" for what. She wrote me this note at church: "Im so glad wene mommy cums home! glad as I can be. clap my hans and clim up on her kney." This is a Primary song at church that is about being glad when Daddy gets home.
She was trying to write the word Autumn and came up with these alternate spellings: audum. odum. outumn. and odume.
Octopus came out octupus.
Elephant was elufint.
And Rebecca came out Rubbecku.
(and if you sound that out in sections, it's rub-beck-uh (the u sound). Pretty dead-on, phonetically.)
Teancom was walking around the other day saying, "I a robot" in a pretty good robot-voice, and walking stiffly. That cracked me up.
And that's the kind of randomness you don't see on TV. (Much of this was stuff I'd been meaning to write about earlier, and in a more coherent manner. Instead it came out like this.)
Tamra
Today I am home from church for the second week in a row. I had been feeling decent all week until Friday came and my cough moved into my chest. I now can get winded from climbing the stairs. I thought about going to my soccer game Friday night and then tried to lightly jog to the mailbox, just so see. And I was so tired just from doing that! Yikes! So no soccer game.
I slept decent last night, for the first time in a few days. It had been taking me an hour or so to calm my cough enough to just GO to sleep. And I've been coughing so hard with this dry cough that I've pulled or strained muscles in my sides. My body is exhausted and I've been pretty out of it. But today I feel significantly better so far. This is good. And even though I feel a little better and I'm sleeping better, Teancom seems to be at the peak of his not-feeling-well situation. His cough sounds as nasty as mine does, and he's been spending significant time sleeping in my arms at night. Which means I'm sleeping spectacularly! It's so tragic when such little people get sick. ... So far all of us have been hit fairly hard with this cold. Everyone, that is, except Miciah, who hasn't skipped a beat. Sometimes I wish I had her immune system.
My cough is becoming my best friend. It has taken over my social life and demands a lot of attention. True, it just takes, takes, takes--hence I don't see a long-lasting relationship for us. Eventually the emotional wear and tear will break us apart.
Teancom loves the Wiggles. And while Anthony is hot, there really isn't much in their shows for adults. Having said that, I know about the Wiggles history and their new lead singer and all that. How do I know this? I look it up. It is FASCINATING to me that a group dedicated to singing subpar songs directed at children has taken over the world and makes more money than most other entertainers dream of making. ... To add to my Wiggles knowledge, the kids got an older Wiggles video from the library. Back when Anthony wore green instead of blue, and Anthony did Captain Feathersword. I'd only read about this phenomenon and felt priviledged to observe it for myself.
Teancom came to wake me up from a nap the other day and instead of saying, "Wake up, Mommy," like he often does, he said, "Wake up, Jeff!" Yea for Wiggles infiltration!
I asked Teancom if he was tired. He said, "I not tiger! I a wion!"
Elijah has been Captian Destructo. It's amazing the messes he's been making. The kind that you admire because they're THAT impressive. And he's been uber hyper, too. Fun times over here. When Elijah gets hyper and destructive, he needs a nap. The boy only takes a nap once every 2 or 3 weeks or so. He won't take them unless he's exhausted, and then he stays up late on the day he takes naps. So it's a trade-off, really.
A few weeks ago I convinced him to take a nap on my bed by telling him that he only had to lay quietly with his eyes closed for 20 minutes and after that if he was still awake--which he probably would be, I told him--then he could get up. I set the timer and went back to get him when 20 minutes was over. Of course he was asleep because he falls asleep faster than any other human I know. I knew he would be asleep, so it was rather devious of me, really. But I forgot to put him in a pull-up, so he wet the bed. And he was sleeping on my bed. And so we spent that night on an air mattress in the living room. ... When he woke up from that nap, though, and cutely enough he didn't move from the bed but said, "Mom, can I get up now?" That made me happy. He is a rather obedient kid.
Yesterday he desperately needed a nap again. I laid down with him this time. I learned from last time and put him in a pull-up, which made him angry. He was crying and yelling at me and was very upset. I left him alone for a few seconds and then came back and laid down with him, giving him the same deal: We lay down together for 20 minutes and then he could get back up. I fell alseep for a little while because I'm sick and pretty dang tired myself. Before that, though, when we were just laying down, I would open my eyes every so often and if Elijah's eyes were open, I'd say, "Close your eyes, Elijah," and he would. I knew we had him, though, when I opened my eyes to see his open, too, and said, "Close your eyes," to which he responded, "Good night, Mom."
The boys are delightful to parent. I will someday write whole essays about the differences between parenting Miciah plus the boys all day and just the boys. Because it's amazing how different it is. Just thinking about it makes me want to cry and giggle at the same time.
Teancom is sitting next to me wearing his footie pajamas and eating cereal while watching Wiggles. His hair is spiked because he wanted to spike it just like Elijah. Course I sent Elijah to church and Teancom is home with me. So it's cute to see this sick little boy with snot dribbling from his nose, with spiked hair. It helps with the whole picture that his diaper is still nasty and unchanged, cause he doesn't want me to change it. Somehow that makes it extra cute.
Elijah makes lots of webs still. One of his best was at a friend's house. Him and his BFF found my friend's yarn and made a gigantic, spectacular web. Really, it was the best one he's ever made. They stretched it around, and then wrapped it around about 10 different objects spanning 2 rooms. It was cool. He will make webs and knots from anything that's remotely rope-ish. Including appliances with plugs--the cord is the rope. I am continually impressed with what he comes up with.
Yesterday he actually got his hands on real rope. Teancom pulled it out and Elijah started planning out his fantastic web. It was fun to hear him in the planning stages: "We'll wrap it around the lamp and then tape it to the wall and then over to the chair..." Pretty cute.
The tooth fairy forgot to bring Miciah her money the day she lost her tooth. The tooth fairy helper assigned to Miciah is named Snaggletooth (Rob thought that was very clever) and there is some debate in the house if Snaggletooth is a boy or girl. And of course we don't know for sure, since Snaggletooth hasn't said one way or the other. Anyways, I suggested she write Snaggletooth a note telling him/her how disappointed she was in his/her performance and that she now should get double what Snaggletooth was going to bring before. Miciah thought that was a good idea, and after she walked out of the room Rob turned to me and said, "Oops." Yeah.
She wrote Snaggletooth a note that said something about how he/she had forgotten to bring her money and that she thought he/she should now bring her double. She ended the note with "Ok or Not Ok?" Snaggletooth brought her a 50-cent piece (which doesn't fit in her piggy bank, but Snaggletooth has no way of knowing that, of course) and apologized for being late and then told her she should try to be a little braver next time she loses a tooth.
We sometimes promise Elijah a treat under his pillow if he goes to bed good. Elijah falls asleep really fast, but he sometimes needs some motivation to be still, and the treat works well as that motivation. The other day, though, it cracked me up to watch him as he first got up in the morning. It had been weeks, probably, since we'd promised him a treat, but he got up and the first thing he did was check under his pillow for a treat. It made me smile. Here's this cute little boy who hasn't complained at all about not getting a treat for weeks, but who still looks for that treat, just in case it's there. This would explain why his pillow is always on the floor when I go in the room--he's always checking for that treat! In fact, I thought that was so cute and so innocent and sweet, that we've started giving him treats a little more often.
My kids sit near the W's at church. They keep me sane and Elijah in particular really really likes them. JW will sit and draw with him and Elijah can't wait until I tell him that he can go sit with her. Sometimes what they draw or write cracks me up and I keep it. The kids draw on scrap paper and one of those scraps has been a form that asks for your name and address, stuff like that. This has been a fun form over time, because the kids love "filling it out" in entertaining ways. One of my favorite was Miciah filling out the form correctly and then the last line read like this:
Parent or Guardian: Robert Print name: Rob
One of the times JW filled it out for Elijah in the way Elijah dictated and it included the names of everyone in their family, everyone in our family, and then "Blanket". And that made me smile.
Miciah is writing and writing and writing these days. Her spelling isn't always on, but she's doing it all herself and that's awesome. One of my favorite spellings of hers is "wut" for what. She wrote me this note at church: "Im so glad wene mommy cums home! glad as I can be. clap my hans and clim up on her kney." This is a Primary song at church that is about being glad when Daddy gets home.
She was trying to write the word Autumn and came up with these alternate spellings: audum. odum. outumn. and odume.
Octopus came out octupus.
Elephant was elufint.
And Rebecca came out Rubbecku.
(and if you sound that out in sections, it's rub-beck-uh (the u sound). Pretty dead-on, phonetically.)
Teancom was walking around the other day saying, "I a robot" in a pretty good robot-voice, and walking stiffly. That cracked me up.
And that's the kind of randomness you don't see on TV. (Much of this was stuff I'd been meaning to write about earlier, and in a more coherent manner. Instead it came out like this.)
Tamra
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)