Posted on

That’s Not Peanut Butter

Yesterday Sophie and I were having a great afternoon, which involved me breaking my high score at Wii bowling (208 baby!!) and her sitting at the dining room table watching me bowl while eating a nutritious lunch of grapes and chicken nuggets. What could be better?

I was getting my bowling groove on when all of a sudden Sophie began to fuss. “Need help! Need HELP!” she cried frantically. I turned to look at her and she had her hand extended toward me, covered in peanut butter. Neither of my kids like it when their hands get messy while they’re eating so I am used to having to wipe her hands before she can finish her meal. But as I walked toward her to grab a napkin, I realized: She’s not eating peanut butter. That can’t be peanut butter.

I took hold of her wrist and got a whiff and panicked. THAT’S NOT PEANUT BUTTER!

It was poop.

She had a chicken nugget in one hand, and a bunch of poop in the other.

I immediately did what I could with a napkin, then began jumping around screaming “NO touch! No touch!” while frantically trying to locate the wipes and wrestle the Wii controller that was strapped to me off of my arm. (I am very good in a panic situation. {Sarcasm sign!})

I found the wipes, got her hand cleaned up, washed it in soap and scalding water (just kidding, it was just really warm), managed not to VOMIT, and then went about changing her diaper. I quickly discovered that she’d had a bit of a blowout, and feeling poop on her lower back, had reached back to find out what the heck was going on back there. And found out. Eeeeeww.

I made it almost six years as a mother without having a kid stick his or her hand in their own poo, I guess that is pretty good. But YUCK. It was disgusting.

And it is time for Camp Potty to begin TODAY!

Post to Twitter

Posted on

The Potty Stall

(Pun pathetically intended.)

Unlike Emily’s motivated and much younger son, my dearest little Sophie is still really not interested in going to the potty. She’ll sit on the big potty with her potty seat, and she accidentally went poop on the potty on Christmas Eve (is there REALLY a Santa Claus!? It about made me believe.), but she has not. once. in. three. months. gone. PEE. Not once! Because she doesn’t WANT to! And this is something I can’t MAKE her do. Ugh.

And she won’t sit on her “little” potty at all. Only the big toilet with her Elmo seat.

So I think the time has come for me to put her in training pants and just let her start wetting herself. *Sigh*. So much maintenance, so much laziness to combat. It’s time for ME to put my big girl panties on and try to get Sophie excited about wearing hers.

I was hoping, since Joshua was difficult to train, that I’d have it easier with this one.

But over the last couple of months, those hopes have seriously gone down the crapper. Unfortunately none of Sophie’s pee went with them.

_______________________
PS my first post is up at the Ohio Moms Blog today! Go read it! Thanks. 🙂

Post to Twitter

Posted on

Wii-lational problems

As I mentioned last week, a Wii came to live at our house this Christmas. And, it is pretty much the most fun thing ever, despite the fact that my 5-year-old can kick my butt in bowling (because I have run-ruled him at baseball twice. So THERE!)

But. When it comes to my three-year-old, my little Sophie, we are having some Wii-lational difficulties. Sophie isn’t quite at the stage where she can play the games, but she is at the stage where she loves watching them. And by “loves”, I mean she is utterly obsessed. Yesterday she spent a good part of the day trying to convince me to play, since her brother had gone back to school and wasn’t there to entertain her with Mario Kart, or her favorite, Super Mario Bros. She throws huge, heartbroken crying fits when we turn it off, or if we tell her it’s not time to play.

Instead of playing with all of her fabulous toys on her fabulous new shelf, she goes over to said shelf and stares longingly at the top level where we keep the Wii stuff, out of her reach.

It’s very fun to listen to her cute commentary on all the games (“Nice spare, mama!” on bowling, or more often, “Whoops. Try again!” and “Be careful Joshua!” on MarioKart), but I can’t sit around playing Wii all day, as much as I’d like to, and she shouldn’t be staring at Wii all day instead of playing.

The last couple of days my little stubborn miss has let me know just how displeased she is with the decreasing volume of Wii-watching in her life. So, the battle is on! And it’s much less fun than a Wii tennis match!

Post to Twitter