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The underwear monster

20 Feb

Aaron’s underwear.  Hannah’s and Daniel’s.  Mine.  Clean. Dirty.  New. Old. The underwear monster is firmly against discrimination.  At first our undies were only stolen if we carelessly left them on the ground, or in a newly folded clothes pile we lazily didn’t put away.

UrbMatinpost

As we caught on to the underwear monster though, we started making sure our undies were never, ever left out.  As soon as they are folded, we put them away.  When we get undressed for showers or baths, we put  our undies high up, out of reach until it goes in the hamper afterwards.

For a while, due to our vigilance, our underpants were safe.  But the underwear monster couldn’t resist.  She brazenly found new ways of fuelling her underwear addiction.  Despite the hamper being much taller than she is, she somehow managed to steal underpants without detection.  Today alone, I’ve lost two pairs.  They are now so full of holes that I had to put them in the bin.

When the kids forget to close their bedroom door, the underwear monster sneaks in, like a ninja in the night and snatches Hannah’s underwear from its home in a Dora the Explorer hanging pouch thing.  I think it’s supposed to house shoes, but whatever, underwear fits there too.

There is no stopping the underwear monster, she is an addict and underwear is her crack.

The underwear monster aka Rosie

The underwear monster aka Rosie

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Big mess

10 Jul

“Choo-choo!” I looked over at Daniel.  He was laying on his side playing with his wooden train set.  He seems to think playing trains is best when laying on his side.  It’s his go to train playing position.  I smiled to myself at his cuteness and went back to washing the dishes.

“Big mess,” I heard him say a few minutes later.  As I turned around, he wiped his hands on the carpet and then stood back up, arms outstretched in front of him, staring at his hands.

What has he gotten into? I thought to myself. I didn’t leave any of Hannah’s paints or pens out.  Did he find some chocolate? Oh goodness.  No, please, not that.

But it was.

“DON’T TOUCH ANYTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I yelled to Daniel as I practically flew around the kitchen counter to where he stood, staring at his poopy hands.

poofingers

“AARON, I NEED HELP!” I couldn’t help but yell, this was a dire situation.

His fingers were saturated in poop. The carpet bore streaks of poop where Daniel had wiped his hands, and somehow, there was a little mound of poop on a train track, with some scattered fragments  on another piece of track. Thank goodness we have a bathtub. And disinfectant.

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Zombie Party

10 Jan
foot print art

Hannah’s foot print and finger prints double as a zombie

I bet when Daniel is older, he’d love to have a Zombie themed birthday party. Heck, I think it sounds pretty fun myself! This weeks guest post is all about how to have a zombie birth party:

With a new zombie movie coming out almost every week and the most popular videos featuring zombie modes, the undead are gaining a foothold amongst today’s children like never before. With that in mind, here are some creative and fun ways to throw a zombie themed sleepover birthday party that will really bring your guests to life (or at least keep them undead).

Living Dead Face Paint
To kick off the zombie festivities, divide the kids into two different zombie themed teams. For example, decaying zombies, zombie princesses, bloody zombies, etc. Give each team sets of face paint and 20 minutes to paint each others faces in the most ghoulish ways they can devise while staying within their teams theme. If you have some old clothes you don’t need anymore, allowing the kids to have at them with scissors and fake blood can make for an extra bit of morbid dress up.

Zombie Sharks and Minnows
A game of zombie sharks and minnows can be a great way for the kids to act out their new personas. The birthday kid can start off as the original zombie and the rest of the guests can serve as uninfected humans – for now. Have the original zombie start off in the middle of a marked off area. All the uninfected humans must simultaneous run from one side of the playing field to the other, without being tagged, or “infected.” After they’ve been infected, they join the ranks of the undead, and can be revived when they find “antidotes,” or hidden zombie candies in the playing field, and eat them in front of one of the adult judges. At this point they can get back into the game as un-infected humans.

Who Can Eat the Most Humans?
By this point, the zombies will have built up quite an appetite for flesh. Let them satisfy their cravings with a brain shaped Jell-O mold eating contest. After a victor has been declared, the kids can bob for body parts; try using candy eyeballs instead of apples — just remember, no hands allowed — because let’s face it, zombies aren’t known for their table manners.

An Undead Cook Off and Feature Film
To round off the feast, let the kids make a few of their own zombie themed foods. One easy option is to give them all cooked hot dog segments and let them carve them into detached fingers with butter knives. Squirt some ketchup on the detached digits for fake blood. For desert, kids can make zombie themed bloody ice cream sundaes with strawberry syrup and zombie candy sprinkled on top. As they munch on their homemade snacks they can watch their favorite zombie movie. You can also find eyeball cake pop kits and other zombie themed snacks at stores like Target and online.

Scary Story Time
To cap off the night, all the kids should wash off their face paint (it will be far more frightening on your pillow cases), hop into their favorite kids pajamas and place them back into their teams. You can provide each group with a prompt for their zombie story; for example, one group can tell a story about how zombies were forced to battle werewolves for control of the post-apocalyptic world; another group could go over patient zero stories, or how they are the last survivors in the apocalypse. One other option is that they come up with a scary story about how they became their themed zombie team and use that as the basis of their story about how they became zombies. By this point, they will be dead tired and ready for bed.

With zombies in vogue like never before, most kids will be thrilled to host an undead party. By following these simple and exciting ideas, you can throw quite the monster mash for your own kids, without spending a ton of money. This should serve as your ultimate guide to treating your little nightmare to the very best birthday!

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Poop at McDonalds

4 Jan

It was stinking hot on the very first day of 2013. So stinking hot that our brand new fridge stopped working, and we couldn’t go on our planned outing to the Regatta Centre for bike riding.  Instead, we were stuck at home with no air conditioning.

Hang on, McDonalds was open on Christmas Day (I know, crazy, right?), so of course McDonalds would be open.

“I want an ice cream cone, please mommy?!” Hannah told me. She does love ice cream.

We got our treats and went to the covered playground.

“A birdy!” Daniel kept pointing excitedly at the bird lingering on the fence, no doubt hoping for a bit of our frozen treats.

"A birdy!"

“A birdy!”

Despite the presence of many tubes and slides and things to climb on, the kids preferred the cubby house, with Daniel stealing my shoes and hiding in there gleefully, and Hannah pretending it was her ice cream shop.

After playing for half an hour or so, Hannah came out of the cubby house “I have to go potty, Mommy.”

“Ok, I’ll gather our things and we can go potty and then come back out to play.”

I found my shoes and zipped up my backpack. “Ok, let’s go.”

“I don’t have to go right now.”

“Um…ok. Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

They continued playing, Daniel with his giggles, and Hannah selling me pretend ice cream.

A little bit later, she came out of the cubby house, a concerned look on her face.  She stood still and reached behind her, grabbing at the bottom of her underpants.

“Mommy, I think I did a bit of poo,” she told me, looking at her finger. As my mind processed what she was actually looking at on her finger, I could see it moving steadily toward her dress.

playgroundpoop

“DON’T TOUCH ANYTHING!!!! DON’T WIPE YOUR FINGER ON YOUR DRESS! I’LL WIPE IT FOR YOU!!” She looked at me, slightly startled and didn’t move a muscle.

I grabbed the wipes out of my backpack, as fast as humanly possible and scrubbed her poopy finger with it.

Checking her underwear, I found a little bit of squidgy poop. Not much. Just a shart (you know, a fart where a little s%*t comes out). “Did you think you just had to do a toot?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s ok, sweetie, let’s go to the bathroom and clean you up.”

I carried Daniel while Hannah followed me, waddling awkwardly, as if she was trying to walk without her underpants touching her legs, and attracting stares as we went.

I didn’t have any plastic bags or anything with me, since she’s been potty trained and accident free for 2 months now.

“No mommy, don’t throw them away!!” Hannah yelled when I put her soiled underpants in the nappy bin.  I didn’t really have a choice, I wasn’t about to have poopy underwear floating around in my backpack.

She put a new pair of undies on and we went back out to play. Poor sausage, it’s hard to teach them about sharts.

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MILF

18 Dec

I was driving down the highway yesterday when I spotted a Lancer with horribly ugly stickers across the side and in the back window. The side sticker said in giant letters, “custom.” Um… yes, awesome, you customised your Lancer, why don’t you broadcast it to the world through an oversized, fluro green sticker across the whole side of your car? You are so cool.

As the custom Lancer sped past me, I read the giant fluro green sticker in the back window. “SEXY MILF.” I’m not even joking, that is what it said. Under the sexy milf sticker, was a  line of those stick family characters, a man, a woman, and 2 kids.

Oops, I forgot to draw the spoiler/wing

Oops, I forgot to draw the spoiler/wing

Now I’m sorry, but wouldn’t you be embarrassed to step out of a car that read “SEXY MILF?” Conceited much?

Sexy Milf was driving like a lunatic (hopefully not with her kids in the car), weaving in and out of traffic without the use of a blinker (is it really that hard to put your blinker on?), tailgating, and going at least 20kph over the speed limit, which, I might add, was already 80kph.

I could see heads turning in all the cars in front of me as the sexy milf drove crazily around them. Maybe they were muttering expletives to themselves as she sped past, or maybe they were attempting to catch a glimpse of the sexy milf herself.

Is she really sexy? After she passed me, I tried to get next to her at the next set of lights so I could see for myself. But the sexy milf is a crazy driver and I couldn’t get anywhere near.

I wonder if the sexy milf’s kids are anything like Hannah. “Mommy, what does that say?” They’d ask if they are. And what would the sexy milf say in reply?

“Um… that says Sexy MILF.”

“What does that mean, Mommy?” they’d enquire in all their innocence.

“Um….”

WHY WOULD YOU PUT THAT ON YOUR CAR?!!!

I certainly hope her kids are not of reading age. How mortified they would be riding around in a car with THEIR MOM, that said Sexy MILF. Then their friends would read the stickers when she came to pick them up from school, which would either drive the friends to make inappropriate remarks about the sexy milf, or tease/bully those poor kids mercilessly.

WHY WOULD YOU PUT THAT ON YOUR CAR? I’m baffled.

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Learn how to drive

14 Dec

Have you ever noticed that other drivers are ridiculously annoying? Or maybe it’s just me. But they are. Seriously. I’m not one for road rage (mostly because I have kids in the car, and yelling at other drivers doesn’t really set the best example, nor would it make the kids feel comfortable. Plus I’d never actually yell at the offending person, just inside my car with the windows up. I am not about to get myself shot!), but sometimes the rude and stupid driving of other people makes me want to scream.

For starters, what is with those people who stop about 10 feet from the marked this-is-where-you-stop line on the road? Do they think it’s going to bite them or something? Once I was driving with friends many years ago, and this old lady in front of us stopped so short of the line in a right hand turn lane (we drive on the left hand side over here, don’t forget) that the turning arrow wasn’t actually triggered. After 2 or 3 cycles of light changes, I had to get out of the car and go knock on her window, probably scaring the pee right out of her in the process, to tell her to move up a bit so we could actually get to our destination.

Why stop way back there?!?! SO ANNOYING!

Why stop way back there?!?! SO ANNOYING! Oops, I drew the car on the wrong side of the road. My bad.

Other people stop way short of the line and then turn into creepers! ARGH, CREEPERS ARE SO ANNOYING (In Minecraft, and on the roads). It doesn’t even have to be the line, they also stop 2-3 car lengths back from the person in front of them. After sitting at the red light a while they start creeping forward. They go about a foot, then stop. Then they go another foot, then stop. Some people do a giant creep, covering the 2-3 car lengths all in one go. Not even when the light is about to change to green, in some sort of ridiculous effort to get a move on quicker. No, creepers do the creep when the light is still red and is obviously not changing any time soon. And by obviously, I mean you can tell by the steady stream of cars still going through the intersection perpendicular to the creepers. When they finish creeping, there is a 2-3 car length gap between their car and mine.  Then if I don’t move forward, look like the ass who left a giant gap.

Why does the giant gap matter? In part because it makes you look ridiculous, but mostly because a little further down the road, behind the giant gap, there will be a left turning lane that some poor chap can’t get into because they can’t quite fit past the car in front of them. Of course if the giant creeper gap wasn’t there, the car in front of turning guy could move forward and he could actually use the green arrow that is sitting there on the light, doing nothing because none of the turners can get in the turning lane.

Sometimes the car that is blocking the turning lane is the one that left the giant gap. If he was paying any sort of attention to his surroundings, he’d notice me, right behind him, with my left blinker on, attempting to get my car past the edge of his without mounting the curb so I can turn on my green arrow. But giant gap man doesn’t notice. Or doesn’t care, and sits there with 3 car lengths between him and the car in front of him and no one can get past to turn. Ass.

Argh, I can't get through!

Argh, I can’t get through!

Back to right turn lanes. Usually on a busy road that has a decently high speed limit, the right hand turning lane is quite long. Unfortunately, that also usually means that ridiculous drivers don’t feel they need to move into the turning lane until about halfway down. Since the speed limit is high, they hit their brakes whilst moving into the turning lane, which means everyone behind them has to hit their brakes too. Can’t you just move into the turning lane at the very start of it and then start braking? Is it really that hard?

Move into the turning lane sooner! like at the beginning of the turning lane.

Move into the turning lane sooner! like at the beginning of the turning lane.

Oh, and then there are those suburban roads that have lots of little side streets. A little ways before the side street, the solid white line on the left hand side, separating the road from the shoulder, turns into a dashed line. That is there so you can move into that shoulder area and turn from there. You don’t have to come to a near stop in the middle of the lane to turn onto the little side street. Most people do get that you are supposed to move over into the dashed line shoulder area, but then they fail to move all the way over. They move halfway over, so they are mostly in the turning lane, but you still have to slow down and wait for them to turn because part of their car is still in the normal lane and if you go around them, you will have a head on collision.

Move all the way over!

Move all the way over!

There are a few large roads around here that you turn left onto. Time and time again, I see people (usually in front of me, prompting me to honk my horn and keep a lid on annoyance) turn the corner and stop, waiting for a gap in the traffic so they can move to the right. Seriously people? DID YOU NOT SEE THE GIANT LANE ADDED SIGN? Or perhaps notice that right in front of your car is open road?

Lane added! You don't need to stop there!

Lane added! You don’t need to stop there!

Or what about those people who drive in the middle lane of the freeway/motorway? They’re not passing anyone. They’re not even going the speed limit. They’re just cruising along, oblivious to the people passing on their right AND left. Oblivious to the fact that other cars are having to change lanes to get around them. Oblivious to the numerous “keep left unless overtaking” signs that line the motorway at regular intervals.

Photobucket

Speaking of freeways and motorways, WHY, oh WHY do people slow down when trying to merge onto a motorway?? It’s much easier, AND safer to actually be going the speed limit when you are trying to merge into motorway traffic that is going 110 kilometers per hour. Going 80kph is just dumb. Then you pull into the gap between me and the guy in front of me and I have to slam on my brakes so I don’t rear end you, since you are stupidly pulling into 110kph whilst going 80kph.

What do other drivers do that makes you want to scream? Or, if you do one of the things I mentioned, why do you do it? Maybe you have a legitimate reason that I just can’t seem to think of?

If you enjoyed reading this, please vote for my blog. All you have to do is click the link below. That’s it… Clicking the link brings you to the Top Mommy Blogs home page. You don’t have to do anything else. Any clicks from my site to theirs is a vote.  THANKS!
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Butt shorts

3 Oct

I was in desperate need of some new shorts. I owned exactly one pair. And that pair is too big. Sigh. No, I lie, I own two pairs, but the second pair even bigger on me than the first pair.

So, I went to the the shopping centre in search of some new shorts. Easy, right? Wrong. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find shorts that cover your entire butt? It’s hard. 

I haven’t been clothes shopping in a while. A long while. Apart from those jeans
I bought a few months ago. I wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of bright, neon colours that were on everything. Including the shorts. It was like a psychedelic rainbow threw up. And not just in a couple shops. That was how all the shops were. Sigh.

It was hard enough finding a pair of non rainbow puke shorts (which may look fine on tweens and teens, but on someone approaching 30? Not so much. Ok, fine, I totally would have worn a pink or purple pair, but they were all orange, yellow, and green), but non rainbow puke AND non butt showing shorts? Almost impossible. No one should wear butt-showing shorts. No one. They are not hot. They are not flattering. They are not appropriate. And they sure as heck shouldn’t be worn by a mother of two who has short legs and cellulite thighs.

Seems the fashion these days is to have the waist of your shorts nearly up to your boobs and the bottom of the shorts half way up your butt, with the bottom of your butt blowing in the wind. Ugh.

The in fashion butt shorts. It’s hard to find shorts that don’t look like this!

I’m sorry, but I would rather the general public not see my butt, thank you very much. I would rather walk around happy in the knowledge that my entire butt was nicely covered by my shorts. I even wear stretch shorts under my skirts and dresses just in case my dress/skirt flies up in the wind or I have to bend over to pick up kids. Or the more likely scenario of the kids pulling up the skirt/dress to see what colour underpants lies beneath.

My preferred length of shorts (not that it’s easy to tell how long/short they are on a stick figure…)

Maybe I’m just stuck in my generation of fashion because I really don’t like what the kids are wearing these days. Not that today’s fashion is anything new, it’s just the ’80s recycled. ’80s fashion didn’t look good then, and it doesn’t look good now. It’s likely possible that I’m just getting old and and am completely fashion retarded.

After going in many stores, I finally managed to find some shorts that don’t show my butt. They stop just after my butt, and are way shorter than I’d prefer, but they are the longest of the short. It’s getting hot, so I’m not about to wear jeans all summer. Australia is too hot for that! I did find one pair that goes nearly to my knees. That’s a bit longer than I’d prefer (because I’m short, I have short legs, and shorts to my knees just make them look shorter. That is, however, better than my butt hanging out. Plus they tend to make me too hot in the summer)  but you know, limited options.

So I came out with 3 pairs of shorts, and now I have to start riding the bike and doing more squats at the gym so I don’t look so ridiculous in them. I am small, yes, but I’m also pear shaped and have short legs.  I carry all the weight in my hips and thighs. Gotta tone them up. Sigh.

A couple inches longer would have been nice….

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E-mail to the real estate agent

27 Sep

As I’m sure you’re aware, we live in a slightly (to moderately) dodgy 2 bedroom apartment whilst we save money for a house deposit. Houses are expensive down under. Anyway, whenever something needs fixing, it takes ages and sometimes threatening emails (threatening to call emergency plumbers and so forth and then make the owners foot the bill, not threatening their person or anything like that. That’s not how I roll) to make anything happen. The door of one of the cupboards in the kitchen fell off when we first moved in, and that’s yet to be fixed. But that’s not really a must fix, so it doesn’t bother me too much. It’s just kind of annoying.

Let me just clarify: It’s not the real estate agent who manages the apartment that is the problem, she tells the owners whenever a problem arises (or so I’m led to believe), it’s the owners who just don’t bother to do anything. They prefer “fixing” things themselves and I don’t know, maybe they just can’t be bothered or something. Maybe I need a cattle prod. Then when they do come, they just show up. No phone call, no appointment. They just show up. Once they came when I was sick, hadn’t showered, and was laying around on the couch in nothing but my fuzzy pink bathrobe. Awesome. You can read about that here and here.

Why am I telling you this? Because we have another problem. Sigh. Our bedroom door won’t shut. And the tap in the bathroom doesn’t turn off properly. So I wrote the estate agent another email. Seriously, this is word for word, I copied and pasted this bad boy straight from my sent box (including the illustration):

Hi Taryn,

I know it’s hard to get the owners of the apartment to actually fix anything (please don’t forward this email to them…), but it’s been about a month since the last inspection where I showed what’s-her-name the problems of the apartment. And I haven’t heard a peep about when they will be fixed.
In case she didn’t tell you, the door to Aaron’s and my bedroom is broken. Well, not so much the door as the little thing that comes out of the side of the door to actually keep the door shut. I’m not sure what it’s called. Anyway, our bedroom door is missing this little thing because it decided that it did not want to retract when we turned the door handle to let us into our bedroom. We were locked out. I do quite like sleeping in my bed rather than the couch, so Aaron got out his tools and took the whole door handle off, along with the little thing that latches the door. He discovered that the little thing, let’s call it Bob to make things easier, was in fact broken.
So Aaron put the door handle back on, sans Bob, and now we can’t shut our door.
That may seem like no big deal, but we have 2 small children, one of whom thinks it’s absolutely essential to taste everything he comes across. And by taste, I mean shoves in his mouth. He also enjoys pulling everything possible off shelves King Kong style and making a giant mess. He’s cheeky, what can I say.
We have over 100 board games in our bedroom, so you can imagine the chaos that said child creates when he enters our room. Which is easy because the door won’t shut. Plus most of the games have tiny parts, which, as I pointed out, he enjoys putting in his mouth. He did once choke on a sticker and I had to call an ambulance, so I’m a little petrified of what may happen should he decide to attempt ingestion of board game pieces. Please see the attached illustration.

When he gets into the board games, he does that smile that is so big he has to close his eyes to accomodate his pudgy cheeks.

We have been pulling a big oil fin heater in front of the door to block Daniel from entering our room, but the cheeky monkey has recently discovered that he can make like a battering ram and force his way in. This is obviously quite a problem for us.
Furthermore, the cold tap in the bathroom is getting worse. I know the owners know about that one because one of them said he’d come back to fix it months ago, but you know how that goes….
Now when we go to turn it off, a little trickle keeps coming out. We have to turn it on full boar, then turn it off again whilst it makes noises resembling a dying whale. Sometimes it turns all the way off then, but other times we have to repeat the process up to 5 times. That could be just an annoyance, but Hannah has recently learned how to turn the tap on to wash her own hands. She can also open the door all by herself. So sometimes she goes in there, does her business, washes her hands, can’t turn the tap off because it’s crap, and then comes back out. I’m none the wiser that she’s even been in the bathroom and the tap is trickling water for hours before I notice.
Lucky for me I don’t pay the water bill…. And I’m not going to pay for excess water either. Not when the owners know about the crap tap.
Anyway, if you could maybe give the owners a little please-fix-stuff-in-the-apartment kick up the backside, that would be greatly appreciated.
Thanks,
Sheri
We’ll see what sort of response this gets. I’ll keep you posted.
UPDATE: I only sent the email yesterday at nearly 5pm, and I’ve already received a response AND the owners called and arranged a time to come and fix stuff. Booyah. See, amusing emails are far better than mean ones. As Taryn wrote back “I always enjoy reading your emails, and now they come with illustrations too! Haha.” I’m glad she has a sense of humour because I can imagine that a lot of estate agents would find that sort of email obnoxious and get their noses all out of joint.

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Hannah’s story

26 Sep

“Mommy, I have a new story!”

“Ok baby, can you tell it to me please?!”

“It goes like this: King Daddy left the door open and then in comes a huge and big and big and big dinosaur. And then the door broke! Then they fixed the door. It was blue. Then the dinosaur breaked the door again because I left the door open. And then mommy made dinner, macaroni and cheese, and we all ate dinner. But Mommy’s crown got all messy and dirty, so I washed it and it was all clean and I put it back on her head.”

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Ball in the toilet

17 Sep

The weather has been so nice recently. The sun is shining. The birds are singing. Or making obnoxious noises. Bloody birds. We can wear shorts without being too cold or dripping with sweat. So of course we want to be outside.

We don’t have a yard (or even a balcony), so we invite ourselves to Grandma’s house when we feel like getting our hands dirty. The backyard is filled with all sorts of kids’ things. A slide, cubby house, tricycles, mini trampoline, etc. Not to mention my vegetable garden.

My purple pea plant. It’s so big it grew over it’s support fence. The pea pods are a deep purple colour. Awesome, I know.

The kids also love seeing Grandma (and YaYa, when she’s there) when we visit. Hannah especially. Hannah adores Grandma.

Last time we went, Grandma wasn’t there. No worries, I have a key. We played anyway. I got out Hannah’s tunnel and the kids spent most of their time pushing balls inside the tunnel and giggling.

Melissa & Doug Happy Giddy Tunnel

I got all this stuff before Daniel was born. Hence all the pink and purple…

“Mommy, I have to go poo poo!” Hannah yelled. She clearly needed to go right then, too busy playing to notice or acknowledge the need to go before she really needed to.

At home she’d just let herself into the bathroom. But at Grandma’s house, the door handles tower above her head. She can’t even remotely reach them. I had to go with her.

“Ok, I just have to get Daniel. Just hold it a little longer baby!”

Daniel was in the tunnel. He saw me coming towards him and decided to crawl as fast as he could to the middle, giggling as he went.

“DANIEL! Come on bud, you have to come out now.” He kept going towards the other side. Thinking I could outsmart a 1 year old,  I ran over to the other end of the tunnel to nab him and bring him inside with us. I couldn’t leave him out there by himself. He likes to climb the cement steps that have no fence on the sides and could easily fall face first off the top. I know because when Hannah was little, she did that once. Except there happened to be a wheelbarrow full of weeds right next to the stairs, so she didn’t get hurt.

As I got to the end of the tunnel, he giggled and crawled to the other side again. Did I mention how cheeky my son is?

“Mommy, it’s too late!” Hannah was grabbing her butt through her pants upset that there was something besides her butt to grab. (I’m glad she wasn’t grabbing inside her pants….)

“Ok baby, I’m just trying to get Daniel, hold the rest in if you can!”

Cheeky boy was still going end to end in the tunnel, giggling all the while. I picked up one end of the tunnel and held it in the air so he couldn’t run around it anymore.

“Ha! Got you!” He tried to escape, but my grip was too strong. I carried him inside with one of the pink balls in his hand.

I looked in Hannah’s underwear. 1 little nugget.

I pulled down her underpants, nugget still inside and put her on the little potty. Daniel was running around at the other end of the bathroom, pulling on all the towels.

I opened the lid of the toilet and brought the underwear over the bowl, shaking to remove the nugget.

“NO DANIEL!!!!”

He came out of nowhere. Cheeky little ninja boy.

I could see the bright pink ball in my peripheral vision, quickly going from chubby baby hand to water in the toilet bowl.

I reached out with the hand that wasn’t holding the underwear in attempt to grab the ball before it went in the toilet.

But it all happened so fast.

I missed.

Just as I reached out with my non-underwear holding hand, the poo nugget fell from the undies, hitting my arm at the same time the ball hit the toilet water.

Sigh.

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