Friday, October 22, 2010

Photo Friday

A moment in time.....



A moment of truth.......




Have a great weekend!

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

This Too Shall Pass

The gaggle and I didn't go on too many road trips this past baseball season. Hotel rooms and three small children are toxic for sleep. I don't know why, I just know it's true. We did manage to make it to Indianapolis early on in the summer and were very happy that good friends from home could join us.

Unfortunately, the night after the first game, Andy got food poisoning and was up until the wee hours throwing up.

(It's beginning to sound like we vomit alot. Now that I think about, we do. Here's hoping that trend is moving on. Forever.)

There's not much worse than food poisoning. Unless you get it in a hotel and you have to bond with an unfamiliar toilet.

(The last time Andy got food poisoning we were in a hotel in Memphis. We were competing for space because I was 6 weeks pregnant with the Littles and could barely keep a pretzel down. Good times. This is also when Michael Phelps won all those gold medals. Before he smoked the pot.)

And now I will try to return to the point of my story. If I even had one.

I say all this because due to the sickness of my dear husband, we had to come up with a plan B for entertainment. If you're staying in a hotel with little people, your best bet for survival is to get them out of the room and wear them out. Our friends from home jumped onto plan B with us and we headed to the zoo.

Which is also what we do. We throw up and we go to zoos.

Man, I need a hobby.

So we mommies and the kiddos had a great morning at the zoo. Sometime during the melee of snacks, carousel rides and elephants, Lainey's hair bow ended up in Miss Amanda's diaper bag. Amanda then held on to said hair bow for several months until we came back home for a visit.

And that's where my story begins. Which is kinda sad seeing as I've already bored you to tears with my drivel.

I'm just trying to paint the picture.

So that bow became Lainey's favorite bow EVER because Miss Amanda saved it for her.

Favorite bow ever.

EVER.

She proceeded to wear it every day. No matter the outfit. Which I was fine with. Seriously, the fact that she wanted to wear a bow at all was a win in my book. The girl cries every time I do her hair.

Every day.

So wear the Amanda hair bow she did.

Until I flushed it down the toilet.

Crap.

She had just gotten up from rest time and the bow was a little askew. She peed and I leaned over the toilet to wipe her. I'm still not entirely sure how it happened but somewhere between the wipe and the flush, I bumped her head, knocking the bow into the bowl just as the flush was ending. Before I could finish shrieking

it was gone.

It was one of those mothering moments where I really wasn't sure what to do. I could tell by the look on her face that she didn't know what had happened. That combined with the fact that she said

What happened, mom?

Darn the shrieking! Keep a poker face for once, woman!

And then the great debate began. Do I tell her I just flushed her favorite hair bow EVER down the toilet? Maybe we just let this one slide? Will she notice it's gone? Is there any way I can blame the Littles?

Who am I kidding, this child doesn't forget anything. Sooner or later she's gonna notice herself in the mirror.

Crap.

And so I told her.

Lainey, Mama just accidentally flushed your hair bow down the toilet. I'm so sorry.

You would have thought I said

Lainey, you will never be able to eat fruit snacks again. Also, I think you're a stinky dancer.

Her face completely crumpled up, followed by the silent pause (oh dear) and then the most dramatic wailing you have ever heard.

My favorite hair bow! NO!NO!NO! Where did it go?

Um, well, it's down the drain with all the pee and the poop.

More wailing followed by,

EW, gross, not my FAVORITE HAIR BOW!

(Man, I should have gone with

All drains lead to the ocean.)

She cried real tears for nearly 15 minutes.

She has also avoided the toilet in our bathroom since the incident.

Forget saving for college, do they have special "future therapy" accounts?

I'll take three.

Thanks.

Friday, October 15, 2010

A Retraction of Sorts

After reading the last post my dear husband said

Um, you kinda threw me under the bus there with those clothes pictures. You didn't tell the whole story.

First of all, we don't have a bus. But if we ever have any more children we may have to consider purchasing one. Which means I would have to get a new license.

Oy.

Secondly, I did fail to mention that he may have had only 2 clean articles of clothing to choose from for all three girls that day. I took those photos during the vomit plague of twenty-ten when the sheets/towels were getting most of the Kenmore's time.

Whoopsie-daisy.

For the record, he got the girls up and dressed this morning. Everyone was perfectly adorable. He even remembered to grab some pony-tail holders before he brought the gaggle to me at the yard sale I was having with my friend.

Because clearly, it's all about the hair around here.....

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

This is What Happens...

When Daddy is in charge of the wardrobe.

 
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That would be Emily in a lovely apple pajama top paired with pink bloomers. From a dress.

Oh dear.

Anna Grace is styling her Weeso shirt accented by a light turquoise bloomer. Also from a dress.

Just a different one.

Yes, indeedy.

But apparently, my babies don't give two hoots about fashion or personal stylings.

Yet.





Heaven help us when they do....

Monday, October 11, 2010

Buh-bye

Adios, you stinkin' deck.



You will not be missed. Not one bit.

Not your popped up boards....



Your crappily lined up corners....



Or your massive splinters.



Once Daddio picked up a sledge-hammer...



and realized how similiar it was to a baseball bat...



You never



stood



a chance.

Friday, October 8, 2010

BRAT

During the plague of twenty ten, the best advice our pediatrician could give was stick to the brat diet and try to keep them hydrated.

For those of you lucky enough not to know what that is, here you go...

{B}ananas {R}ice {A}pples/sauce {T}oast.

Basically, it's code for bland and blah.

Which was fine for the first few days

and then the children started to revolt.

Emily worked the old bait and switch with her 18th apple...



Anna didn't even try to hide her distain. She just got violent.....



Things got a little hairy when they started working as a team. One on distraction, the other on look-out and the third on securing the goods.


Hey mom, look at me! I'm in a box! I'm cute! Take my picture! MOM!MOM!MOM!MOM!MOM!MOM!



Meanwhile...



I think the goal was the goldfish. We did eventually give up on the whole BRAT thing because they were still throwing up. No matter what they ate.

Although, for the record, red jello isn't the best idea.

You're welcome.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

PukeFest Twenty Ten

This summer I had a serious discussion with a fellow baseball wife/mom about whether we'd rather clean poop or vomit.

Poop won, hands down.

Unfortunately, this conversation arose because I had just cleaned a pack-n-play, sheets, clothing and one child who had decided to play in her poop during nap time.

Again.

I'm not gonna name any names because to be honest they have both done it.

More than once.

I know, you feel sad for me.

You should.

It was also slightly unfortunate that we didn't have this conversation quietly or privately because there were two newlywed baseball wives, innocently sitting there, just taking it all in. I'm nearly certain they will never have children. EVER.

So sorry.

I am now more convinced then ever that we were correct in our analysis over which was worse. Because starting the night of my birth (September 9th, send gifts) all the way to the TWENTY-FIFTH of that same month, we had the plague.

Yes friends, that's 17 days.

SEVENTEEN.

Now it wasn't every day. When it started, Anna got it first, she threw up a few times in a 24 hour period as well as removed her diaper and pooped on the floor.

That was kinda funny, because Andy found it.

Twelve hours into Anna's bug, Emily started.

Now it's not so funny.

Not to be outdone or left out, Lainey started at the 48 hour mark.

And then someone in our house had vomiting and/or diarrhea for the next two and half weeks about every other day. I know, you're feeling very sad for me now.

You should.

Originally I had decided to pace myself with the Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper. I had about a months worth, with a few extra on those rare days I would need two.

Who am I kidding? I was at two a day on day three of vomit laundry.

I hate vomit laundry.

I will give Lainey credit, as a nearly 4 year old, her aim has improved immensely.

The other two didn't get that memo.

I did so much laundry over the span of sickness our water bill was up $20.

That's unfortunate.

I also decided that four crib sheets isn't enough. Some nights, the littles and I ended up on the couch. With towels.

Which is how you catch vomit from an aimless baby.

In case you were wondering.

Towels, lots and lots of towels.

Did I mention the water bill?

And now I am sure you are wondering, how in the beep did they keep getting this?

I wish I knew.

The following is a list of things I did to get rid of the germs.

*Open windows. Fresh air. Aaaahhh.
*Put the children outside, more fresh air.
*Sprayed so much Lysol the can started to malfunction and while trying to fix it, I shot myself right in the face with it. True story.
*Washed sheets, towels, clothes eighty-seven times. A day.
*Bleached the washing machine.
*Bleached the puke bucket.
*Cleaned toilets.
*Bought a new toilet brush.
*Threw away stuffed animals.
*Threw away pillows.
*Bought new pillows.
*Boiled their toothbrushes. Twice. (I would have replaced them but they were BRAND NEW).
*Ran the dishwasher. Every night.
*Ran a special "wash your dishwasher" soap. I think they made that up. I fell for it.
Desperate times, people.
*Hand- mopped the kitchen floor. Which I have never done. In my whole adult life. (You can fuss as me for that later- when the puke trauma has passed.)
*And of course, on a daily basis, prayed to the Good Lord to MAKE IT STOP!

Eventually, it did. Although, both Andy and I still flinch every time we hear a little person cough or breathe funny over the monitor. And bless my hubby's heart, he had only been home from Buffalo for about three days when this all started.

Nothing says Happy Off-Season! like three projectiling children.

And I need to say, I would have been lost without him. He was amazing.

Except for the laundry.

I don't blame him.

He has a bad gag reflex.

At least, that's what he says......