Friday, November 24, 2006

Temptation

I really hate the smell of poo. So many veteram moms have told me I'd get used to it. Eight months have passed, Stinker is eating solid foods including meats, and my poo intolerance has increased! It takes every ounce of gumption to make it through a single diaper change without baptising the booger in my most recent meal.

As I was cleaning the kitchen floor, I ran out of Swiffer juice. A run to Wal-Mart was needed. Lined up like soilders at Buckingham Palace were colorful cans of Lysol. It's the stuff that eliminates odors and kills 99.9% of all bacteria. Perfect for use in Booger's room after I change a "stinky one".

Yesterday while changing a very foul mess, I was overcome with a terrible temptation.

I looked over at the can of Lysol standing obediently next to the diaper genie.

Kyle's little butt faced the ceiling as he contemplated the meaning of his toes.

My nose twitched and fought to leave my face to head toward the Botanic Gardens.

What if...

What if I sprayed the Wee One's bottom with Lysol?

Oh, my fingers itched to grab the can and give the little man a "once over" with the "odor eliminating" spray!

But I couldn't.

The effects of Lysol disinfectant spray on bare bottoms is unknown. I don't think Kyle would like to be a test subject.

So after all that, I'm still stuck with the smell of poo.

ARRRRRRGGGHHHHH!

Thursday, November 16, 2006

Giving Thanks in the Litter


Before you pick up the phone and dial 991 asking for "psychotic transport", let me assure you I did NOT use my hands. I used the scoopy thing...

I'm thinking of making this my header graphic once I can ever figure out how to do so (or find someone who CAN do so).

Picture aside, Thanksgiving is a week away. Most people are scanning the dailies for cupons looking for a gobble of a deal while fretting over Aunt Emma's allergy to anything edible. It's easy to slip into the panic mode when the lady at the checkout counter reminds me for the 17th time that Vitamin Cottage is taking orders for organic turkeys. (Ever wonder why turkeys is spelled with "eys" not "ies"? Call me weird.) But I refuse. There are only three of us and Thanksgiving is about far more than mere gut-filling.

What's even easier a trap for me to fall into is the trap of complaint. I'm in a litterbox! My list of complaints could literally wrap around the world 3 times.

But...

I refuse to do the math.

This year, I'm going to focus on my blesseing and assets (not my over-large derrier!).

First of all, I'm a child of the King. He sent his son, Jesus to die on a cross so all of us can spend eternity with him if we decide to let Jesus be Lord over our lives.

Secondly, I have a fabulous husband. God sure knew what he was doing when he put John and I together. We share so many interests and passions, and best of all, I love watching John be a daddy to the Little Booger. John is the most amazing daddy. The man actually OFFERS to change a diaper or feed the Wee One! (No, John is not for sale or for cloning.) No matter how exhausted he is at the end of the day, he'll feed, dress, cuddle and play xyliphone on the floor with Kyle until Booger's bed time.

Friends. I have to brag on my friends. Our friends are the best possible friends anybody can have. (They too, are not for sale. Sorry.) John and I have friends around the world, near and far, and thank God for them regularly. All of our friends are the most generous, self-sacraficing, loving, committed people we know. I'm not exaggerating here. Whenever we travel, we have places to stay. Peter and Karen even let Caleb-pup stay with them again after he ate a hosta plant in their yard several years ago and peed on their carpet this year. Our Colorado friends make sure we are never in want of any necessity. Kyle has been well clothed thanks to the generosity of friends. I only hope I can be half the friend my friends have been to me.

Kyle. Need I say more? I love that little booger so much it hurts! I had no idea how fierce a mother's love can be!

Last, but not least my parents and Tammie. Honestly, I can't ask for better parents. Both of my parents recieved Christ when I was two years old - all within a week of each other! I was blessed to grow up in a Christian home with parents who sacraficed so much for both Tammie and I. Even during the lean times, they provided for our needs and never let on how hard times were. They allowed us to be kids. We didn't know other people didn't eat Cheerio's every night for dinner. We LOVED the fact we could eat the little round O's that floated in milk. Mom made those times feel special. Dad took me to the library every Saturday morning, instilling in me my love of books and writing. Some of my most cherished memories are hiking Rickett's Glenn with him, and canoeing Lake Jean.
No matter how hard things got in school, my parents encouraged me through the pain of not fitting in. Tammie and I were never allowed to quit anything mid-season. We had to stick to our committments. At the time it seemed like they were so mean, and I even tried to run away once, but as an adult, that discipline sure pays off! Their committment to us was firm. Every basketball game, track meet, band or guard competition - they were there. Even out of state!

My parents are the role model both John and I look to for raising Kyle. God is blessing my parents with another grandbaby in April - Tammie and Shon are expecting their first! Mom's wanted to be a grandma since she was a little girl. And I get to be an Aunt!

I know this blog seems to be dragging on and ooozing with sentimentality, but I want to publically acknowledge my blessings b/c when I grumble, you all can shut me up! Now it's your turn. Put down the frozen bird and think for a moment of all the blessings in your life. If I can find them from in the litterbox, so can you!

Thursday, November 09, 2006

Poo fountain

Why, when babies poo, must the nasty green stuff shoot up their backs? Why? I ask? Every single day I am dealing with Butt Rockets X67 and no, he doesn't have diarrehea. This is "normal" stuff.

I'm sooo glad I found a way to get the green, orange, purple (yes, purple - blueberries make purple poop) stains out of his clothes. I use the SA8 Solutions Pre-Wash with Enzymes. Before I got this stuff, Booger's clothes were toast. Baby poo stains big time, and the surface area is huge! After rinsing defiled garments, I squirt this stuff on and when I wash it (hours or even days later), there is not a trace of baby by-product! I was really amazed when the stuff got carrot puke off of a white sweater.

Note: I did NOT buy the white sweater for Kyle, it was given to me. It was a very expensive brand. I wondered who in their right mind would make a WHITE cable knit sweater for little boogers knowing how they stain EVERYTHING they come in contact with...

The SA8 got rid of carrots AFTER several days of sitting w/o treatment. I ordered the stuff when the carrot stains happened. Amazing.

Now my house smells like poo. Diaper genie or not. I've Febreezed everything (except the baby and the animals) and I still can't get the poopy smell out of my nose. Maybe I need to start huffing Febreeze? Yeah, I can see it now: JoyintheLitterbox mom starts new trend in the mommy set - huffing air fresheners.

I guess being a mom means smelling poop in your nose for days on end. I really hate the smell of poop. It's vile!

For those who are wondering: I've recently moved Kyle up into size 3 diapers, they do go half-way up his back. I'm using Costco brand at the moment, but he blew out of Huggies too. I put them on quite tight. His pooper is powerful!

The SA8 is a Quixtar product (I am a Quixtar rep if you wanna try this stuff. I'm thinking from now on it will be a baby shower gift for new moms! I've tried everything else out...)

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

Voting, Rachel Ray and a $2500 flat-screen TV


Voting with a tiny tot in tow is quite the adventure. K-Bob and I waited until 10AM to venture out to the closest voting center - the Bear Valley Public Library. It took me a good 10 minutes to unload the Wee One from the car seat, strap him into the stroller arming him with a few toys and head to the line. Where the heck was the end of this thing?

The line curled around the building and I hiked to the very end. Seconds later, a woman wearing a red sweater and "Election Commission" button said the current wait was nearly 2 hours! She suggested that those of us in a hurry (people with small, fussy compaions) go to another site. I knew the Little Booger would not last 2 hours sitting still in a stroller. I also know few people are patient with mommies bearing screaming babies. So, I left. The next wait was only 15 minutes. Kyle voted responsibly (Republican) and recieved the badge of honor for doing his civic duty with such gusto!

Kyle's rationale for supporting the elephant party? He wants to grow up in an America that is not being bombed by terrorists, nor does he want Mommy and Daddy paying taxes so high they cannot afford formula and diapers.

Enough politics - You all know that John and I have been in the financial pit for a very long time. Someone from choir blessed us with a dozen sacs of grocieries recently. I've got meats falling out of my freezer that I never cooked with before. Rachel Ray, a cullinary phenomenon wrote some 30-minute meal cookbooks. I bought two of them. I can do 30 minutes.

I hope Rachel Ray is not reading this post.

Rooting in the freezer I found some chicken thighs. Normally I don't eat dark meat, but when the meal is free, hey!

an hour and a half later, John and I sat down to eat. I couldn't eat the things that squirted blood at me as I tried to cut off the skin. The very sight of the "Thick and jucy thighs" made my stomach do Pilates. This is why I hate cooking. Most people would read the recipe and say to themselves, "Sounds good. This is pretty simple." Not me. I cannot follow sequential directions to save my life or feed my family. No wonder Mrs. Leepers ( the gluten-free version of hamburger helper) makes a killing off of my grocery expeditures alone! It's pretty embarassing to admit I can't even pull of a Rachel Ray recipe. Sorry, Rachel, I'm not the poster child for your cookbooks - or anyone elses. (and I'm supposed to do complicated gluten free stuff - HA!)

When I logged on a little while ago, I noticed an e-mail from Amazon. Oh, did I order a book and forget about it? Opening the e-mail I was HORRIFIED to find a confirmation for my order for a $2500 Sony Viseo flat screen tv!

I'm running Spy Sweeper as I type, and I notified amazon, deleted my CC info and checked all my bank and CC accounts. So far no 2K charges. Heck, I don't have that much credit period! So, as I leave to tend to my snarling baby (couldn't tell you what the snarling is about), beware of such things. Spy Sweeper is finding some trojan horses and other icky things Norton did not.

Friday, November 03, 2006

Hallo-Wee One





We couldn't let Boogie's first Halloween go past without creating some cool photo-ops. Photo-ops b/c there's no way he's gonna remember this night.

Kyle traveled to our next door neighbor's house in his Graco pirate ship. Daddy played the role of the ocean (oh, darn. I shoulda wrapped John in blue lame so he could be the ocean). Gil was scared to see a pirate at his door and feared for his stash of loot. Fortunate for Gil, the little pirate has yet to develop a taste for candy and was satiated with two pieces (one for Mommy, one for Daddy).

From Gil's, we piled into the super-charged pirate ship to sail over to Bear Valley Church. Ahoy! More booty! This baby swung a hockey-stick sword to comandeer more candy (chocolate only please), then shot out a few rouge candle flames for even more. Baby Beard scored big when he wrestled with a shark winning a stuffed Sharpai doggie.

Back on the home front, Baby Beard navigated to another neighborhood house to trick candy out of a 2 year-old dinosaur, Charlie before heading home to have his poop-deck swabbed.

Screams ripped through the house as Baby Beard morphed back into sweet Kyle. The boy hates having his face washed. You'd think I was poking him with an electric cattle prod in his left bun the way he screamed.

Now, to think about next year...