So The Bloggy Doesn’t Get Lonely

You guys are in for a special treat this week because, guess what?  You don’t have to read about my bum or me clogging the toilet!  The catch (because there’s always a catch), is that you have to read the antics of my crazy friends. 

Two of my favorite bloggers are guest posting today and Friday, so make sure to give them a warm welcome and say hello while they’re here, ok?  I’m off to Utah for “The Big Cut”, so wish me luck.  I’m going to need it. 

Today’s guest post comes from William, from Poop and Boogies.  William is a dad of almost three.  He’s one of nine children, and when one of them would look at dinner and ask, “Mom, what’s in this?” His father always replied, “POOP and BOOGIES. Shut up and eat it.”  He’s completely hilarious - you really need to check out some of his posts.  See you next Monday!

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Pull-ups pulling me down

by William

 

One of my boys is having potty training issues. He knows how to go on the toilet. He knows when to go on the toilet. But for some reason he keeps having accidents, or as I like to call them “on purposes”.

We have read all the various parenting websites and the help books and they all say the same thing; leave him alone and he will eventually get it.

I have a problem with this approach but I try to listen to the opinions of the professionals. One of my problems is the fact that our son is going through pull-up diapers, like, well, like a child goes through diapers.

The average cost of a pull-up is about 50 cents, give or take, and he uses 5 or so a day. So doing the math, let me see, (carry the one divide by pi) is about 20 bucks a week. That adds up over the long term. I told my son that if he starts going on the pot I would split the savings with him. He really does not have a concept for money so that is not working.

My other issue is the design of the pull-up itself. He wears the Lightning McQueen, from the movie Cars, style of pull-ups. I find this to be the best brand for fit and function except for the fact that my kid likes the fact that he is sporting Lightning McQueen under his shorts.  This brand also has the “learning design”. There are small icons on the front of the diaper that disappear once the diaper is wet. This is supposed to teach the child when to change the pull-up. I think my kid enjoys making the icon disappear. It is a game for him. One of the icons on the diaper is the Piston Cup Trophy. Does anyone see the humor in the play on words with that one?  Pissed on cup?

Now if only I could get my toilet to have an icon on it that disappears every time he uses it. Now that, that, would be something.  Heck, if I could get that, I may even make more of an attempt, in the middle of the night, to hit the bowl.

Domestic Radness

The Craft Fairy paid a visit to my house a couple of weeks ago and put a bee in my bonnet.  Normally her visits don’t last long because after a half hour I start whining and complaining about how long things take and how I don’t want to do it anymore.  The Fairy gets fed up with me, dumps the unfinished materials in my craft closet, and hightails it out of here. 

Making things is for patient people, I’ve found.  And I am not one of those people.

However, there are a couple of times when I’ll make exceptions.  The first is when my friends make things for me.  In that case, I love to hang out with them and watch the creative juices flow.  Like a couple of weeks ago when my friend made this apron for me:

Is it cute, or what?  I got the fabric at a local fabric boutique. 

I can’t believe how well it turned out, all due due to my friend’s amazing sewing skills.  I just whipped up a little design (ok, I copied something), and she did the rest.  Without a pattern!  She even made allowances for my copious curviness with extra fabric and a few well placed darts.   

In return, I offered to make a cake for her daughter’s twelfth birthday party:

Of course, I feel I got the better deal because I’ll get to wear my apron every time I make a cake, and their cake is in the belly of eight twelve year olds.  But she swore it would be a cake her daughter would never forget.  I just love that.

Clogging The Toilet: A Success Story

I’m so sorry to all of you ladies of delicate temperament that are reading this .  (Mom-In-Law, you may want to close this now).  I’m about to share something that is at once disturbing and victorious.

Before continuing, I need to tell you that my nickname in this house is “Baby Pickles”.  Mr. Wright gave me this embarrassing alter ego after finding that I’m very, ahem, quick in the bathroom.  He finds it quite amusing, in fact. 

We could not be more different in this department.  If we were superheroes, I would be Baby Pickles, the tiny bowelled heroin, and Mr. Wright would be The Dastardly Defecator, wreaking havoc on all toilets within a fifty mile radius.  He once came home from work after a day at the *Columbia Tower triumphantly bragging about the demise of yet another Kholer.  I’m not kidding, people, he could set a World Record.

Now that I have a husband and three boys, no toilet is safe in this house.  We have had frequent occurrences of all three being incapacitated at the same time.  And of course there is never a shortage of potty humor in our household.  At any given moment you can hear gleeful shouts of:

“I tooted!”

“I can see your underwear!”

“Look at my bum bum!”

Instead of shaking his head in despair as I do, Mr. Wright chortles and looks at me like, “What?”

Well, I’m tired of being Mrs. Nice Guy.  I don’t like being the goody two-shoes that everyone rolls their eyes at.  So, if you can’t beat ‘em, you may as well join ‘em. 

“Baby Pickles”, toilet paper conservationist and advocate for potties everywhere, has turned to the dark side.  After a healthy diet of strawberry-flax seed shakes and green salads, she emerges the victor.  That toilet didn’t even see it coming. 

Toilets beware; Baby Pickles is here. 

 

*The Columbia Tower is the tallest, most modern skyskraper in Seattle.  Let’s just say that it’s toilets are so powerful that you have to stand before you flush.

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Kiki was the winner of the new blog header.  I had Biggest Brother pick the winner.  After choosing her he was really bummed that he didn’t win.  I’ll e-mail you with details, ok Keeks?