(protecting her lunch from the dog…who was several feet away taking a nap)
“NO, Hastings, you CAN’T HAVE my SANDWICH.  No!  NOT YOUR JOB, BUDDY, NOT YOUR JOB!

(while bending over, hands around her ankles, waiting for Daddo to wipe her post-poop butt)
“Boy, Daddo.  You might wanna trim those toenails.”

(while observing Koren in his jumper)
“Mama!  Look at Little Buddy!  He’s goin’ to TOWN! Go Little Buddy!”

Mama: Kaelin, pick up your clothes and put them in the hamper.  I’m not going to tell you again.
Kaelin: Mama, you’re obsessed with picking up my clothes.

We’re doing Kaelin’s Christmas Hanukkah-style this year, and giving her one present per day until Christmas.  We find that this works better because she needs a day to play with every toy she gets and trying to rush through all the gifts on Christmas just lessens the fun for everyone.

Today, she received Lucky, the Incredible Puppy, a mechanical dog that responds to voice commands such as “sit,” “lay down,” “come here,” etc.

She’s having a great time with it, but doesn’t quite understand the limitations of pre-programed commands.

“Lucky, help me clean up the floor.”

Lucky does his best to accommodate.

“…Why is he standing on his head?”

All I have to say, is that if they ever DO create a robotic dog that helps one clean up the floor, I AM SO THERE.

Well, the stomach bug has come and gone, fortunately bypassing the rest of the members of this family.  Koren is now back to his normal, hungry, pooping self.  I have never been so glad to see actual TURDS in his diaper.

In other news, I have been impressively lame with the Christmas cards this year.  My standards keep dropping.  First I decided to skip the newsletter and just send cards and pictures this year, since all the updates on our lives are here anyway.

Then I decided that we weren’t going to put a family pic in the cards after all, because I procrastinated too long in getting them printed, and we would just put pics of the kids in there instead.

Then I ran out of kid pics.

And stamps.

And discovered that I’m missing some addresses (how they disappeared between last year and this year I have no idea).

And suddenly it’s 4 days before Christmas and I haven’t even sent them out yet.  So maybe they’ll be New Years cards instead.

I’m contemplating just not sending them out at all at this point.  But then I would be left with a hoard of kid pics and nothing to do with them.

So yeah, if you don’t get a Christmas Card from me, I’m sorry.  And if you do, I’m sorry.  I just don’t have it together this year.

Our family pic that is NOT going in the cards this year.
(Thanks to Josh & Jenny for the shot)

Today (well technically, yesterday) I came dangerously close to hurling poopy diapers at a couple of old ladies.

It was one of those days.  The weather was horrid, and school was delayed, but Koren’s doctor appointment wasn’t, so I had to bring Kaelin to the appointment which was sort of bad because if you’ve met my daughter you know I can’t have a conversation with Kaelin in the room without telling her to be quiet 523,423,456 times. 

We spent 45 minutes trying to drive a distance that should have taken 10 minutes because Texas drivers tend to FREAK OUT because OMG IT’S COLD OUTSIDE WE DON’T KNOW HOW TO DRIVE WHEN IT’S COLD AAAAAGGGGHHHH and the doctor’s office couldn’t wait on us, so after we had suffered through the entire drive (seriously, 5 mph down a dry road) they called to tell me I had to reschedule the appointment.

Finding myself with an hour to kill in 20° weather with 2 kids in the car and nowhere to go, we decided to stop for bagels before Kaelin’s school started.  I opened the car door and immediately found myself flat on my back in the iced-over parking lot. 

The kids perked up in the bagel shop, evidently not nearly as scarred from the wasted morning as I was, and both were in a good mood in the warmth of the shop.  Such a good mood, in fact, that I had to take them out because they were laughing at each other so loudly that it was causing a disturbance.

I had managed to snag a same-day rescheduled appointment for Koren, so we again tried the trek to the doctor’s office after we dropped Kaelin off at school.  Fortunately, we were closer that time.  The appointment went pretty well except…

Koren has been suffering from a bout of diabolical mutant diarrhea which renders all diapers and attempts at containment useless.  Apparently, it’s been going around and it sounds like he got it from school.  It shoots immediately out the back of the diaper and soaks through his clothing and anything else within a 5-foot radius.  Consequently, we have all been undergoing multiple clothing changes per day.

We finished the appointment and he got his shots and I was doing the post-trauma hold and comfort.  And that’s when I heard it.  Then I felt it.  It was monumental.  It was suddenly everywhere, on everything.  PEOPLE, THE CHILD HAD POOP IN HIS ARM PITS.  I even had to change his socks.  Except, I didn’t have any extra socks because for some reason when I think “diaper change” it doesn’t occur to me that he will poop in his socks.

I spent 15 minutes in the tiny exam room trying to clean runny yellow cottage cheese off every body part and surface I could with the pitiful number of wipes I had available.  Koren’s doctor’s office makes you take dirty diapers with you instead of throwing them away in the office, so guess how excited I was to find out I was on my last disposable diaper baggie.

When I finally finished, I exited, lugging my very heavy baby, a giant baggie full of nasty, a diaper stuffed with poopy laundry, and my personal belongings out the door.

…Which is where I ran into two older women who saw fit to inform me that it was COLD OUTSIDE and give me grief about the fact that my baby needed a blanket in this weather.  They continued the conversation between themselves as I left.  Jesus saw me mentally giving them the finger.

I still had errands to run and couldn’t drop Koren off at Mother’s Day Out in his current condition, so he had to come with me, which meant a trip to Babies R Us to restock supplies.  My poor best friend happened to call while I was huffing around the store, and was (along with the other customers) subjected to a rant about I QUIT, I’M DONE, This is the WORST! DAY! EVER! and OMG TWENTY FIVE DOLLARS FOR A BABY BLANKET, AT WHAT POINT DID I LAND ON PLANET INSANE?

I think it might be a while before she calls me again.

When we got home, Koren spent some time on the poop mat.  And this is a testament to the severity of our situation:  People, we have a POOP MAT, which is where he gets to spend a few minutes in his diaper after every bottle until we hear the inevitable explosion.  It’s even better in the middle of the night – and it ALWAYS happens in the middle of the night.  If this thing doesn’t clear itself up in a day or two, I’m going to start entertaining thoughts of throwing myself down the stairs.

Plz send wipees.  And chocolate. kthxbai.

Mama is funny.

Dog is funny.

Sister is funny.

Sister is very, very funny.

Kaelin: Daddo, wanna come play in my corral*?
Jens: (in the middle of a diaper change) I can’t right now sweetie.  I’m wiping poop off Koren’s butt.
Kaelin: (appalled) Daddo, you can’t poop on Koren’s butt!

*Kaelin’s term for a fort made out of pillows

I do not go to the gym to make friends.  Ergo, I have very little (read: NO) appreciation for getting accosted in the gym by abnormally chatty strangers.

As important as these things are to you, I really don’t care that you can lift the entire set of weights at once.  I’m not particularly interested in why your shoulder sometimes hurts (although maybe it’s because you’re trying to lift an insane amount of weights).

I don’t care that you’re intending to join the military as soon as you pass your entrance exam (which, apparently, you’ve attempted before). 

I know what physics is, but I have no interest in hearing about the complexities of Einstein’s theories and I’m pretty much unconcerned about how excellent your mathematical skills are and what a great sniper you would make because you can do the math to figure out where the bullet would go.

I’m sorry that you don’t approve of the gym’s playlist.  I can’t commiserate with you on the lack of ACDC songs, however, because I have this iPod specifically for the purpose of being able to listen to what I WANT to hear while working out.  Which, oddly, I cannot do when you insist on standing in front of my machine and talking to me.

Really, I just want to do my workout and go home.  Please comply.  Trust me, we get along much better when we can ignore each other.

Lovingly,
The Girl Who is Trying to Finish Her Audio Book

I had just picked Kaelin up from school and was talking to Koren’s teacher when I heard her say sweetly, “Excuse me.”

“Yes, Kaelin?”
“I just said excuse me because I tooted.”
“Oh?”
“Yes.  Luke told me that.”
“He told you to say excuse me when you toot?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s probably a good rule.  Is Luke one of your friends?”
“No.”
“He isn’t?  Why not?”
“I don’t like Luke.  Because he’s a boy and I don’t like boys.  I only like girls.”
“Why do you only like girls?”
“Because girls are better than boys.”
“Oh?  Why are girls better than boys?”
“Because they play together and not throw things.”

“Mama, the potty isn’t flushing…”

I entered the bathroom and called for backup as I saw the water pouring over the side of the toilet and splashing onto the floor.

“Kaelin, how much toilet paper did you use?”

“Too much,” she said matter-of-factly, then left the servants her parents with the mess and went to find something more interesting to do.

I’m sorry, but THIS:

On Tuesday of this week, the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) said that it found the toxic chemical melamine in … formula made by the three biggest U.S. manufacturers: Abbot Labs, maker of Similac; Mead Johnson, maker of Enfamil; and Nestle, maker of Good Start.

really just pisses me off.

Particularly this:

FDA officials insist the levels are so low they don’t pose a health threat…

followed by this (emphasis added):

Last month the FDA said any melamine exposure level is unsafe for infants.

Can someone please tell me what melamine (or a “chemical by-product of melamine”) is doing in American-made baby formula?  And why the FDA seems to be changing their stance on melamine now that it’s an issue here?  And why it took a “secret test” to determine that there were harmful chemicals in the formula, despite the assurances of the manufacturers?

Aggghhhh…

Yay, Christmas Pictures!  I love this time of year.