Please Excuse My Absence

Just wanted to pop on here real quick to update ya'll on a few things:

• I've been a bad blogger here for a few reasons, including but not limited to: Olivia having an ear infection last week, Joey turning into a 2.5 year old tantrum-throwing monster, Katelyn getting sick later in the week, me spraining my ankle, etc. etc. etc.  The list goes on...
• Olivia is feeling better now, and appears to be turning into an easy-going happy girl.  I'm relieved because I feel like she spent the first 9-10 months of her life crying.  Now she just smiles, giggles, plays with her cups, and says, "hi," whenever we look at her!
• Joey's hair has finally gotten long enough where I think we should cut it.  It's borderline mullet, actually.
• Poor little Katie-bug is not feeling well at all.  I took her to the doctor on Friday (after being there on Monday with Olivia!) and it looked like a virus.  She's had a miserable weekend and I'm taking her back tomorrow.  With a fever of 103, I'm guessing she's got an ear infection or two.
• I have not stopped blogging, as some of you have inquired about, I've simply been busy being mom.  I'll be back ASAP, and I've even got another fun giveaway coming up!

This Could Be Dangerous...

Last night I got together with a group of my new mommy friends for a much-needed Mom's Night Out.  We had some wine (of course...), snacks, and made the most adorable tutus and matching headbands for our girls.  Oh, how I just love having girls...

As I shopped for the supplies the night before it dawned on me that I have not made one craft project for myself or anyone else since our move in October.  How sad is that?  Well, one night with some tulle, flowers, and rhinestones was all it took for me to get my groove back.  Here is a little preview of my new obsession:

Why am I not posting a pic of my cute babies in their cute tutus???  Because I only have one finished, so you'll just have to stay tuned for the real deal...

A Day at the Museum

One of the best things about being a parent is seeing the world through the eyes of your children.  Since Joey was very young, Ron and I have always found a simple joy in bringing him to new and exciting places.  He loves animals, play-equipment, and nature so when we discovered the Museum of Life and Science in Durham it was a little like hitting the jackpot.  They've got it all.

Today was our second visit to the museum.  We became members last time we were there, and that gave us the privilege of bringing along some friends -my sister and her three boys.  All of the kids had a great time, and I did too.  Even the babies watched in wonder as the butterflies roamed freely around their stroller, the cow moo-d in their faces, and Tyler, Matthew, Jack, and Joey ran from one thing to the next.  Here are some pictures of our day:

This is the only way to get a picture of my three kids together.  The backs of their heads.  Aren't they adorable?

Fascinated Jack.

The cheapest souvenier:  a penny smooshing machine with a dinosaur imprint.

Tyler might just be a photographer some day:

Blue-eyed beauty:

A mirror.

Refusing to look at me.  Yes, she always sits that way.  Looks comfy, huh?

It's no wonder my children are gorgeous.  Look at this guy:

A goat.  A really big goat.

Trying to be a "real" photographer.

Tyler had a hitch-hiking butterfly on his back the whole time in the butterfly house!

Matthew wore his lab coat, since we were going to a "science museum."

Another attempt at "real" photography:

My beautiful boy:

Sleeping in the Pack N Play

I love my blog.  It gives me the opportunity to share the funny (and not so funny) things that my family does.  On some days, my blog feels like my only connection to the outside world.  It's a welcome treat from the world of diapers, sippy cups, nap schedules, and everything else.  I know how pathetic that sounds, but sadly, it's true.  At least once a day my children do something that makes me think to myself, "I've got to put that on the blog."  Well today, it wasn't my child.  Today I feel compelled to share how funny someone else's child can be.

My nephew Jack is a silly, adorable, big, burly 2-year old.  Joey and he are as different as night and day, but they are good buddies nonetheless.  Once a week I babysit Jack so his mommy can get some much-deserved time for herself.  Unlike any of my children, Jack is very flexible when it comes to sleep habits.  He will go down for a nap at any given time, and in any given place.  This makes it super easy to babysit him at naptime like I did today.  It's like a no-fuss guarantee.  I give him a hug and a kiss, hoist him into the Pack N Play, cover him up, and he goes to sleep.  Then I'm off to go through Joey's 18-step process of settling in for a nap.

Shortly after I put Jack in the Pack N Play I hear him calling out for me.  As with any children under my watch, I give him a couple of minutes before going in.  He quieted down and I assumed went to sleep.  My sister (Jack's mother) insisted that I check on him during nap time because he bumped his head this morning.  So, while it's typically against my policy to check on sleeping children (not because I don't care; simply because it usually wakes mine), I quietly opened the door to peek in on my napping guest.  This is what I saw:

At first glance all I saw was the pink sheet with nothing on it.  My heart sank as I officially declared myself "The World's Worst Babysitter," thinking I'd lost one that wasn't even mine.  As I proceeded into the room to begin my search for Jack, I got a closer look:

I was both relieved and astonished to discover that Jack had wedged himself between the fitted sheet and the Pack N Play mattress.  Now, if you've ever met Jack you'd understand what I mean when I say that for him to "wedge" himself anywhere is no small feat.  He is not compact or petite in the least.  But there he was, sound asleep with just his gorgeous red hair and sweet little face exposed.

Intrigued about the antics of yet another red-head in this family?  Head on over to Operation Sippy Cup to read more about what Jack and his big brothers are up to.

A Surprise in the Tub

First of all, some readers may find this blog post disturbing.  This is my real life.  Not a ficitional tale.  And because of that, I feel compelled to tell it like it is.  And this story is exactly that.  My life, like it is.

Joey drinks bath water.  There, I've said it out loud.  Sometimes when I admit not-so-adorable things about my children I feel embarrassed, guilty, or ashamed.  Today I just feel relief.  My son drinks bath water.  I've tried to stop him.  I tell him it's "yucky," and not to do it but I'm pretty sure that just makes it more appealing to him.  So I ignore him as he announces, "My drink the water, Mom."  I continue to act as I can't hear him when he says, "My like it, Mom.  My like the water."  He'll even go as far as saying things like, "It's not yucky."  I've come to learn that this is simply an attention-seeking behavior and the best way to deter him from drinking bath water is to ignore the fact that he is doing it.

He does not drink bath water during every bath.  Only on days when he feels like he is getting less than his fair-share of my attention.  Yesterday was one of those days.  So the drinking of the bath water took place in full attention-seeking fashion.  Whatever, life goes on.  It's not pretty, I know.  But there are far worse activities that my son could (and probably will) engage in, and I'm picking my battles.  I bathed all three kids, pulled them each out of the tub to begin getting ready for bed and pulled the plug.  As the water drained out of the tub, I tossed the toys into the hanging basket.  A duck, a boat, a little pirate guy, some various cups.  They all went into the basket.  I continued cleaning up as my husband corraled our sweet-smelling children for dressing.  I pulled up a corner of the tub mat, gave it a yank, and hung it over the side of the tub to dry.  As I did this, something flung off of it.  A toy I forgot.  Distracted by the noise my children were making in the next room, and thinking of my frazzled husband, I reached for it.  Only it wasn't a toy.  Nope.  It was a poop.  A small, marble-sized poop.

"Um, honey?  Are the kids dressed yet?"  I called to my husband.
"Almost. Why?"
"Because I think we should rinse them off."
"What?  Why?"
"There's poop in the tub.  I bathed them in poop water."

My husband's answer was that of any typical dad with three small children who would do anything to avoid undressing each child, rinsing them off in non-poop water, and dressing them again.  At bedtime.  He said, "Well it was probably Olivia's poop, and she was the last one in, and didn't spend much time in there at all."

I responded, "Hmmm.  Well that's true.  And I had already rinsed Joey off at that point, so he only sat in the poop water for a few minutes before I got him out."  This way of thinking was completely rational to us both.

"Right," Ron said.  "I think they're fine," he assured me.

We proceeded to put the children to bed, then as we were relaxing on the couch watching American Idol, (in horror) I began wondering if we did the right thing.  It was at that moment that I remembered the drinking of the bath water.  So today I write this to admit that not only does my son drink bath water.  He drinks poopy bath water.  And I let him.