Carrots

Shepherd's Pie and honey glazed carrots were for dinner. Graham wouldn't touch the Shepherd's Pie. He just kept asking for more carrots. "I'm so glad you love carrots, Graham. Did you know that carrots are so good for you? They help you see better." (By the way is this just an old wives tale? Hope I wasn't lying to him.) Anyway, after a few helpings of carrots, I insisted that the boy eat some meat and taters. A few minutes later Graham looks at me with his eyes halfway closed.
"I can't see! I can't see!"
"Why are you saying you can't see?"
"Because I need more carrots."
And so manipulation begins. Or maybe it just continues.

My Mommy Confession

I confess that I feel guilty when I let my kids watch a TV show, and I feel proud when I've read them two books in one day. I confess that I consider myself a good mom when I've cooked a meal from scratch and when we've done a craft at home. I confess that sometimes I determine whether I've had a good day or bad day based on if my kids have taken their naps or not. I confess that I think I have the ability to make my kids smart, beautiful, and a follower of Jesus. I confess that I often care more about how my children act in public than their actual hearts. I confess that I compare my children to other people's children. I confess that I judge other people's parenting skills. I confess that I'm insecure about my own parenting skills. I confess that sometimes I put more thought into the cute outfits I want my kids to wear than in my children's salvation. I confess that I'm really just a screwed up human being desperately hating my never stopping sins who is asking God to do something amazing, life giving, and eternal in the hearts of my children. I confess that despite my fleeting, doubting ways, I want Jesus for myself, and I so fervently want Jesus for my children.

School Days

So G started school today. We've been talking about it non-stop for the past few weeks, but today he cried like a baby when I left him. What happened? He was so excited about it. His teacher sent me a text a few minutes later saying that he cried for about 10 seconds. So, that makes me feel a lot better about how the day will go. He loves kids and having activities to do, so I think he's gonna love it! I guess I was a little anxious too, because I left without even grabbing my wallet. But I did remember my two kids, G's backpack, and a lunch. I hope I'm not forgetting something else. I guess we'll see how the first day went this afternoon.

My Front Door

If you ask me, the front door wreath is always a great clue to what the rest of a person's house looks like. It's one of the areas where someone can be creative on the outside of the house. Because let's face it...some of us don't like the outside of our house nearly as much as we like the inside of our house. I'm embarrassed to say that until recently, I never had a wreath on my door. That is until I found one I loved.

About a year and a half ago I fell in love with this wreath posted on the Purlbee website. I started following the templates, and it morphed into the wreath pictured above which is hanging on my front door. Everyone has been posting about felt and yarn wreaths these days. I absolutely love them. I have had this wreath up for a while, so I'm looking for some inspiration for a new one. Maybe I'll try Lydia's yarn wreath, or maybe I'll try this wreath with the burlap I have laying around. I'm just not sure. Let me know if you have ideas. If I don't hurry, it will be Christmas before I have something up!

PT Update

So for those of your wanting a potty training update (I'm sure there are so many of you out there), I thought I'd give one. This conversation from last week pretty much sums it up.

Me: Don't you want to wear underwear?
G: But I don't want to wear underwear.
Me: Why don't you want to wear underwear?
G: Jesus died on the cross for my sins.

Hmmm....not sure how to take that. I could think deep. I could go into the theological implications of this statement. But, I'm just going to assume he isn't ready. He told me today that he wanted to pack up his underwear and send them to his cousin. So needless to say, potty training isn't going well. I'm taking a potty training sabbatical before I go crazy.

Wipeout

Did you see where Wipeout was filming in our local Target? Oh, wait. That wasn't Wipeout. That was me and the kiddos yesterday.

It all started when I told G he was going to wear underwear. A year ago I thought G was a genius child when he potty trained himself. But it only lasted for 2 weeks, so we've been potty training ever since. I've tried a million things, so this was just one more attempt at getting him to commit to potty training. I decided to take the plunge and let him wear underwear to Target. BIG MISTAKE.

While we were in the checkout line, I almost completely wiped out on the floor. I looked down, and the floor was covered in water (or so I thought). As I was trying to get the attention of an employee to inform them of the mess, G jumped up from the back of the cart yelling, "I'm wet!" Wet was an understatement. He was drenched.

Completely flustered, I got out of line and went to the bathroom. LP was screaming, and I realized she had turned around in the basket and gotten her foot stuck between the bars. "Oh great, they're going to have to cut these bars off!" My mind was racing, but I slowly worked her foot out. I got both kids out of the cart and started thinking about my next steps. I had no idea how to hold LP and help G go to the bathroom and change clothes, so I strapped LP onto the changing table and walked back and forth between the stall and changing table. A grandmother who was very concerned about LP offered to help. I of course did not refuse. They do have a sign in there that says, "Do not leave child unattended" but they forgot to put up a sign instructing you on how attend to your baby and your potty training child. I had no idea what I was doing. But, somehow I helped G go to the bathroom, put a diaper on (found out later it was LP's diaper), and changed his shorts. It was such a fiasco. I mean seriously, how are you supposed to hold on to a baby and help a kid go to the bathroom who can't undress himself? Any advice would be welcomed.

Since G was obviously not ready to give up diapers, I went back to the baby aisle to get some more. As I got back in line, a lady next to me told the cashier how there was water all over the floor and that her son had just fallen in it. "I'm just glad it was him and not a old person, " she said. I was pretty much freaking out inside. I could have gotten someone hurt AND there was a kid next to me who was covered in G's urine.

But what is the mom etiquette in a situation like that? I sure wasn't going to inform the kid that he had a 2 year old's pee all over him. Now that would have been a scene. For once I was thankful that G drinks a million cups of water a day. My well hydrated child fooled everyone into thinking there was just water on the floor.

And so we left the scene of Wipeout and headed home. I had one more stop planned, but I couldn't handle any more outings with my kids for the day. I needed to be home. I needed them to take naps. I needed to figure out an exit plan if this ever happened again. Potty training is going to be the death of me.

The Death of Johnny Jump Up

"Those things are so archaic. Your baby could die in one of those, you know." Well, maybe no one said those EXACT words, but I heard some bad things about Johnny Jump Ups. I didn't even think they were still being sold in stores.

But I didn't care, and I thought they looked like fun, so when Graham was about 6 months old, I bought one at a consignment sale. He loved it, and Lucy loved it too...until that one dreadful day.

Lucy was having a blast jumping in her Johnny Jump up while I was working in the kitchen. Laughing, squealing, and then POP. I turned my head around to see my sweet daughter flying backwards and watch her head hit the hardwood floors. It was like I was was watching a bungee jump gone awry. It all seemed to happen in slow motion. The vertical belt on the Johnny Jump Up completely split into two pieces, sending Lucy into the air. I ran and scooped her up. She stopped crying within a few seconds. More scared than anything.

And so our Johnny Jump Up died that day. I'm not too sure I will buy another one. At least I know to never buy one from a consignment sale. I think the person that had it before me probably had an baby that came out weighing 20 pounds.:) You just never know these days who has been jumping in your Johnny Jump Up. I'm thinking that you need to be able to get a BabyFax report when you buy used baby items. You know, like a CarFax report. They need to give you the height, weight, and cleanliness of the baby who used the product before you buy something like that. Cause you just never know...now do you?