In the Genes and not in the Manual

Once upon a time when I was a wee lad I did something I shouldn't have and to this day I am reminded of it by my mother. It happened before my memory started kicking in so I must have been 4 or younger. I don't remember why I did it but it must have seemed like a good idea at the time. Much like the lamp incident, when my kids break stuff my mother tells this tale:

I stuck gum in the tape deck of the stereo. It took my father quite a while to clean it out but to his credit he got it to work again.

How does an incident that happened 30 odd years ago relate to something in the present day?

DaBoy stuck some change into the CD player of the car, moments before we left on a two hour drive to Aunty K's. I wasn't sure exactly what (or how much) he put into the slot at first but I did manage to get a dime out of the dust guard. The radio still worked until I tried to place a cd into the player. It made for a long ride out and back. When we got there I went to lock the car with the key fob and.... nothing... huh?

I did what any good engineer would do, I RTFM'd and pulled the radio our to retrieve the remaining change (2 quarters). So the manual says the radio/accessory fuse is #8 under the steering column. The only problem is that fuse wasn't blown and the power door locks wouldn't work with the car off. If the car was running the power door locks would work.

WTF?

Tonight I did some more poking around and checked all of fuses under the dash. None were blown. ???
I also noticed the dome light would not work when the doors were opened but did work when the switch was flipped???

To recap: The radio doesn't work at all, the power door locks work if the car is on but not off, and the dome light only works if the switch if set to ON, not when the doors open.

I then checked the logical fuses under the hood and.....nothing. So I checked the remaining fuses under the hood and found #9 was blown. A 10 amp fuse labeled "Backup" ??? Replace that one and all is well.

The moral of this story? My son is definitely my son and wiring in the Honda is not as it labeled.

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and this is how bathtime is...

everytime....

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Yup it's hereditary

When I was a young I had a thing for lamps.

When I was real young, less than 2, I burned the palm of my hand grabbing an exposed light bulb.

I broke a lot of lamps before I was 4. My parents had these ugly glass globe lamps and I guess my inner eye knew these things were ugly and had to go. I must have massacred 5 or 6 of these.

My father, possessing the Yankee ingenuity gene, took a pair that I killed and rebuilt them in such a manner that I could do them no more harm. He took a section of 4 inch PVC pipe the height the globe had been and put it between the upper and lower collars that once held the globe. Then to add "style" he wrapped the pipe with blue yarn to match the living room decor of the time. I could not damaged the finished product and believe me I tried. These lamps lasted about ten years when finally it was decided they outlived their purpose and replaced.

DaBoy has taken a liking to lamps as well and tonight I came home to this...

Yes, this is a three legged lamp with one leg broken off. Yes, this lamp is made of wrought iron. Yes, DaBoy is only 18 months and 25 pounds.

So just how do I make wrought iron stronger?

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Gestapo in the school

DaMom is sick today, she has the same stomach bug I had on Friday night. Not a pleasant topic. At any rate she's sleeping in and I'm taking the day off to handle DaKids.

I carry out DaMom's mumbled instructions and get both kids out the door by 8:45. (Getting them in the car is another story) Now I know DaGirl is supposed to be at school for 9:00 but I'm unsure of the time lienency they give. We're in the parking lot at 8:52.

Apparently this is too early.

DaGirl sees the teacher's aid getting out of her car and is overly excited to see her and is emphatically attempting to get her attention. She's shouting hello, banging on the window and generally making a rucus. We're a little slow to get out of the car (you know two kids in car seats) and when we cross the parking lot DaGirl is trying to chase down the aid...

...and we go to the wrong door.

I'm very rudely told of this fact by a teacher who is younger than I and she's backed up by an even younger teacher. They point across the cafeteria to the door I should be entering, which ironically is merely 40 ft away straight through the room. "you have to wait for them to open the door" one of them barks at us.

Lets paint the full picture here:
A dad carrying an 18 month old toddler, who doesn't want to walk but doesn't want to be carried either, is being dragged across a snow/salt/sand mess of a parking lot by a 3 year old hell bent on catching a teacher she adores. The teachers saw us walking up to the door and try close it in our faces but thought better of it when I looked at them with a crooked head and inquisitive face.

I'm obviously out of my element and these people offer no compassion at all. I guess what pisses me off is that when DaGirl turned three on Halloween and was eligible to start preschool the following Monday. No one offered DaMom any help either. Apparently 2 months into the school year no one is allowed to start fresh. The crappy paperwork the school hands out is all geared toward kindergarden and up. There is no mention that there is even a preschool in the joint and certainly nothing telling someone how they are supposed to get past the guards armed with nothing more than bad attitudes. I understand that the school policy is to lockdown the school during the day but come on, I'm trying to drop off my kid, nothing more.

I'm starting to remember why I never liked the teachers I had when I was in school, they had rules that made little sense in the big picture of life and offered no rational explanation of them. Explain the rules to me and why they exist and I will gladly follow. I have not nor will not follow any one/thing blindly.

Then when they do finally open the doors and I'm trying to escort DaGirl to her class room I'm reminded of why I hate school breaks. Floor polishing. While carrying DaBoy I step off the mat in front of the door and look like a comic book character trying to regain his footing and fall on my back. Great new year.

They really ought to post the entrances better.

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Someone's in a Hurry Here

After dinner DaMom started the bath water when she was getting ready to leave for quilting class. Like a good mommy she closed the door behind her when she went upstairs as the filled the tub. Meanwhile DaKids and I were feeding the dog and cat. When we finished with the project of the pet food (and believe me it is a project) DaGirl wanted to play in the living room and watch TV.

DaGoof: "DaGirl", why don't go into the bathroom and get ready for a bath?
DaGirl: Oh, OK (and she scurries out of the kitchen)

DaBoy, who had been behind me, runs past to follow his big sister. I hear the bathroom door open as I'm filling the Dog's water dish. The sound I hear next emanating from the bathroom disturbs me.

DaGirl: No! "DaBoy" No! Don't get into da baf tub wif your clothes on!
DaBoy: Hehehehehe

I drop the water dish on the floor and run around the corner to find....

....DaBoy in the tub, fully dressed.

This marks his first successful attempt at entering the tub on his own. yippie?

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Mr. Mom Day - Part 1

First let me say that many people in the know about this day of mine can't wait for whatever happens to be posted in this blog. Sooooo, who am I to disappoint?
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DaMom's birthday was back in October and her sister (Aunty K.) and mother (Memere) got her a special gift. A day without DaKids and a trip to see the Radio City Christmas Spectacular Starring the Rockettes in NYC. This means it's the first day in history DaKids won't have their mommy to push around love and cherish for an entire day.

5:30am - DaMom gets up and prepares for her adventure. I sleep.
7:00am -DaGirl wanders into our room and climbs into bed with me. She has an annoying  a precious little habit of rubbing your belly when she's tired or your sleeping. She does this to me on my right while I try to fake sleep to keep the dog on my left from washing my face.
7:15am - DaBoy has been chanting MOMMMM for the last few minutes and I send DaGirl into his room to "talk" with him. She scurries out to his room and discusses the placement of his stuffed animals on his floor with him. I try to sleep more.
7:30am - DaGirl has been in and out of all three bedrooms so many times I can't count and since she's now attacking the jewlery box in our room I figure it must be time to get the day going.

I get dressed and bring them all downstairs. After the obligatory diaper changing and potty going, I ask DaGirl "What do you want for breakfast?" She replies with "Waffles and sausages".

OK. I know we have some frozen waffles left over from a batch we made a couple of weeks ago but I'm not sure about the sausages. After a brief hunt in both freezers for breakfast sausages I can't find any. During my search DaGirl has been chanting "Waffles and Sausages" and getting DaBoy fired up for them too. Uh Oh....

DaGoof: Uh sorry guys we don't have any sausages.
DaGirl: EEKKK!
DaBoy: NA!!
DaGoof: What else would you guys like?
DaGirl: Waffles and Sasuages!
DaBoy: Emphatic head nod

They both are looking up at me with puppy dog eyes.

DaGoof: Do you want to go get some. (yes I'm a pushover)
DaGirl & DaBoy: YEAH!
DaGoof: OK, but you have get dressed first.
DaGirl: OK
DaGoof: Go pick out some clothes. "DaBoy" come with me.

I get DaBoy dressed while DaGirl retrieves her own outfit and proceeds to get dressed (including shoes) all on her own.

8:15am - We arrive at the grocery store and they jump into one of those carriages with a fire truck attached. We speed shop and leave in minutes with our sausages, bananas, and orange juice (DaGirl sounds like a vetran smoker this morning so I figure I'd better use any means possible to get her full of fluids).

8:30am - We eat breakfast.

9:00am - I have to cancel a potential play date due to her oncoming cold. DaGirl wants to watch a video. I say "Do you want to go to the library instead?" OK and we're off again.
9:34am - We roll up at the library when it dawns on me "I hope they're open this early?" Sure enough they open at 9:30. Whew.
We turn in DaMoms books and a Sesame Street video. Then find a new S.S. video and a couple of board books.

10:00am - Back at the house. We watch the new video and bonus features.
11:15am - I have to potty. I tell DaKids not to break anything or kill each other for five minutes. I'm in the bathroom for about 4 minutes when DaGirl barges in with the announcement "(DaBoy)'s made a mess in the kitchen". Ug, no peace. When I get to the kitchen DaBoy is standing on a chair filling and dumping a cup with water from the dispenser on the fridge. The floor is one big puddle and he's soaked. I soak the mess up and dry him off.
11:30am - Lunch time. They request a PB&J sandwich with a side of apple bomb. (Apple bomb - apple cut in half cored with a melon baller and filled with peanut butter.) And yes, we have no peanut alergies in this family.
12:00pm - Clean up and head 'em up for nap time. I sit with DaBoy for a spell, while he fights sleep and then head over to DaGirl's room to usher her off to sleep. I read her the story about germs we got from the library, cuddled with her for a few minutes, put her in bed, and by the time I finished a chapter in Harry Potter 5 she was out.
1:00pm - Dishes, laundry, and write this literary epic.

To be continued...

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Mr. Mom Day - Part 2

So maybe a 3 and 1/2 hour nap might be a little long for them, I want them to stay healthy!

12:30pm - 4:00pm - They slept. DaMom is going to PO'd at that one since yesterday DaGirl napped for all of 30 minutes. But don't worry, it all comes around.

4:00pm - Snack time I put together a concoction of O's, raisins, dried cranberries, chocolate chips, and vanilla chips. Hey, it was mostly healthy, plus they liked it! (wonder why?)

4:15pm - We play for a bit in the living room then they discover the "accessory set" for the easel somewhere and announce they want to paint. DaGirl is holding the paint containers up at me while DaBoy is marching around in circles holding a paintbrush like a baton.
I set them up at the table with art supplies. They both craft paper taped down in front of them however DaBoy only gets crayons while DaGirl gets the watercolor paints. After about 20 minutes of them being creative making a mess, I drag them off to be cleaned up. Yes, DaBoy grew weary of the crayons and just had to play with the paints, which subsequently initiated the cleanup process when all he wanted to do was pick up and drop the brush water.

5:00pm - The dog is driving me nuts. Since 2:00 he's been stuck to my side and won't leave me alone. I've let him out at least once an hour but he still wants a walk. The rain appears to have subsided for now so I bundle the kids up and usher them out for a quick walk with the dog.

5:45pm - Play some more with the kids (Can't say what we did exactly, they've both got attention spans like gnats and my memory for that stuff is gone. Suffice it to say we did a bit 'o everything.)

6:15pm - Dinner. I reheat leftover chicken, potatoes, corn, apple sauce, and STOVE TOP! I'm great with a microwave.

6:45pm - Neither child is too thrilled with the idea of bath time so I make the executive decision to skip it. They get it in the morning after breakfast before Aunty N's Birthday Brunch. Makes sense right? Let them get all filthy during breakfast and hose them off before the party. It's justified in my mind anyway.
We play blocks for a while and when DaBoy starts falling down randomly I know he's ready for bed, so I set DaGirl in front of the electronic babysitter with an S.S. DVD and get him changed for bed.

He watches the show for a bit but when he gets antsy I bring him up to bed.

7:45pm - The show is over but she wants to see more of the bonus songs on the DVD. I oblige her one at a time but after the third song we're done

8:00pm - I bring her up to bed.
She doesn't want to be in her room yet.
I coerce her with a story. We read the germ book again.
When finished I ask her if she has to go potty. "No." The standard answer.
I take her to potty anyway. Remember the comment in the other post about the fluids? Yeah, she needed to go.
Back into her room for some cuddles.
I put her in bed. She starts bouncing off the walls.
She runs to the bathroom shouting "Have ta poop." She doesn't and I usher her to bed again.
I sit in her room, in the dark, to keep her in bed.

9:00pm - I give up and come down stairs. 5 minutes later head back up stairs to fish her out of the bathroom once again. This time she's trying to play in the sink.

9:15pm - I start the dishwasher and can no longer hear what she's doing upstairs. And I'm OK with that. She might be in her bed she could be in ours we'll see when I get up there.

10:00pm - DaMom returns home and fills me in on her excitements of the day.
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So there you have it. No insanity pleas. No ER visits. No temper tantrums (on my part anyway). No Gulliver's Travels re-enactments in the living room.

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Like Trying to Get Blood from a Stone

Today was DaGirl's third day of preschool. She did not want to go this morning and put up quite a fight. Once she was there all was well and had a good day.

DaMom had to wake DaGirl from her nap so we would get her to bed tonight. Who knew preschool was so tough?

After her nap DaGirl ran off with DaMom's keys while she was doing some dishes before dinner.

After dinner, when DaMom was about to leave for quilting class she asked DaGirl where her keys were. DaGirl's response "On the hook!"
Nope not there.
We scour the living room searching blindly for the keys to no avail.

DaGoof: Where are mommy's keys?
DaGirl: On the couch.
DaGoof: No they are not there. Where are mommy's keys?
DaGirl: On the couch.
DaGoof: No they are not there. Where are mommy's keys?
DaGirl: On the couch.
DaGoof: No they are not there. Where are mommy's keys?
DaGirl: Come wif me
DaGirl heads to the living room, I follow. She gets down on all fours and looks under the futon.
DaGirl: Keys aren't here? Where are mommy's keys? Take wif her?
DaGoof: No (shaking head)

Meanwhile DaBoy is heading up the stairs and I give chase.
DaGoof: Where are you going little buddy?
DaBoy: Mommy (and points up the stairs)
DaGoof: Mommy's not here.
DaBoy: kassss
DaGoof: Huh?
DaBoy runs to DaGirl's door and points inside and says "mommy" very enthusiastically.

I figure maybe he knows where the treasure is hidden so I search her room with no luck.

Back downstairs we go and search some more.
With kids in tow I search the living room again, the dining room, and the kitchen. When I open the cabinet door to the garbage DaGirl says "No daddy that's for garbage."

I give up and put DaKids to bed....and search some more....with no luck.

Was this DaGirl's ultimate attempt at getting out of school tomorrow or did DaBoy get a hold of them and relocate them to parts unknown?

Stay tuned until next time...

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*EDIT*
It turns out DaBoy was right, the keys were in DaGirl's room. Tucked in between the seat cushions of her chair.

When we asked DaGirl this morning who put the keys there she replied with a shrug of the shoulders and "DaBoy".

When we asked DaBoy this morning if he put the keys there he replied with an emphatic head nod , "yes".

So it appears I should have followed the 16 month old more closely and saved an evening of searching.

Busy Weekend

How to wear out toddlers:

Step 1 - 10:30 showing of Sesame Street live.
Step 2 - Lunch out...with ice cream.

Step 3 - Go to park and play. While there scamper across the way to the horse rings and watch the horses exercise.

Step 4 - Allow them 1 half hour nap...OK they passed out in the car.

Step 5 - Take them and the dog for a three mile walk around the duck pond.

DaKids were a bit tired today...

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Words and Phrases - Part II

Remember Words and Phrases? This one just phoned in from DaMom...

"...DaGirl was eating a cheese stick and left part of it on the table. I was in the kitchen and when I came around the corner there she was holding the dogs collar saying "Damm Dog, that's my cheeeese stik. You leave it alone"..."

I think we're up for parents of the year award, eh?

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The Incredible Restraint of DaBoy

We went to a 4 year old's birthday party yesterday. DaGirl adores this little boy and will sometimes run around the house with his picture. I never hear the end of it if his father comes over to do some work to our house "S____'s dad was here. You like new door? You like new windows? S____'s dad did it." That can go on for a bit.

So back to the party. They rented a bounce house since there were several kids under 5 there from S____'s preschool and they all got along well. Well....enough. There was no way I could ever keep DaGirl out of it and once DaBoy figured out what big sis was up to, he wanted in.

I guess I'm a "bad parent" for putting a 15 month old in a bounce house but I know what he can handle (read The Fall Guy). He tried to climb in on his own and with a little help from me to get up the steps he dove right in and loved every moment of it. He couldn't stand up when the other kids were bouncing, but he loved being tossed around on a floor that wouldn't stop moving.

They had balloons in there for the kids to toss around while bouncing and DaBoy found it best to stay along the side and play with these balloons and avoid anyone crashing into him. All of the kids were great and left him alone, but one. DX.

DX wanted whatever balloon DaBoy was holding. He would just snatch it right out of DaBoy's hands. Well, I started getting more than a bit annoyed by this, but there were enough balloons that DaBoy would keep grabbing another and not be phased by DX's aggression.

Meanwhile I'm thinking "DaBoy is getting tired, you keep taking his balloons, I'm not going to stop him when he bites you.... I'm bad parent..... If I were DaBoy, I'd have clubbed him by now."

DX's mom caught him swiping the balloons and took him out for a chat. DaBoy didn't care at all and went right back to playing with his balloons. For all of their aggressive tendancies (that I'm sure they got from me) DaKids are pretty good when out in those types of functions. DaMom told me afterward, DX has some issues and how second children are used to things being taken away by older kids.

Kudos to him for showing restraint.
If I were 15 months old, I would have decked him.

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Words and Phrases

Sometimes we use certain words and phrases a little too often around the house and they come back to haunt us.

Case in point:

• "I have to go to my Zumba class." DaMom says to DaKids as she leaves on Saturday mornings, (FYI - Zumba is an aerobic dance class at the Y)
• "I have to check my email." Simple enough right?
• DaMom uses my real name (not daddy) in front of DaKids.
  

How do we know that we are using them too much, you ask?

When we got home on Sunday night from dinner at Memere and Pepere's house I took DaBoy into the bathroom and got him ready for bed. DaMom was outside picking veggies in the garden. When I exited the bathroom in search of DaGirl I found her laying on the coutch, on her belly, just like DaMom had been doing earlier in the day playing on the computer.

In front of DaGirl was the laptop booting up. She looked up at DaBoy and I, and said, "I have to check my zumba, eff"

*sigh*
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They Never Cease to Amaze

Today, DaMom was out with the DaKids and when they approached a stop sign, DaGirl blurts out "Look Octagon" clear as can be!

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New Heights

DaBoy loves heights. He can't get enough of them.
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Yesterday while we were at the park, he climbed (raced up really) the ToddlerTown structure by himself and went down the slide head first. DaMom caught him just as he reached the bottom.
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Today, as I was loading up the bike for work, he pushed DaGirl's chair (with booster seat attached) over to a storage bin in the kitchen. He then climbed the storage bin and was in the process of trying to climb into her seat when I came inside and stopped him.
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Lately he's been standing at a chair (or couch, table, etc.) and lifting one leg back and out to the side. It's the funniest thing. He looks like a little ballerina limbering up.
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In a Toddler's Eyes...

...they are responsible for everything.

DaGirl has A LOT of hair and when riding in the car with the windows open it flies all over, which she hates. She will start screaming "window up, Window Up, WINDOW UP" with excessive hand gestures, like levitating the window, until the windows go up.

Today driving back to work from lunch was one such occasion.
DaGirl: window up, Window Up, WINDOW UP
DaGoof: OK OK, hold on.
DaGirl: window up, Window Up, WINDOW UP (gesturing to the window to rise)
Windows go up
DaGirl: I did it! I did it! By my self!
DaGoof: Yes, you made the windows go up. *sigh*
DaMom: What?
DaGoof: (quietly) She thinks she made the windows go up on her own.
DaGoof/DaMom: *Laughter*

Oh, the power of modern electronics. I see lots of "magical" things happening in the coming years.

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The Fall Guy

New Evolutionary Theory - Forget the Nature versus Nurture crap, young boys dreams are stored in DNA and passed along to their children, 10 fold.

When I was a kid there were several shows (movies and TV) about Hollywood stuntmen or movies showcasing their talent. Some of my favorites included Hooper, The Fall Guy, and of course Smokey and the Bandit and Cannonball Run for the sheer quantity of stunts and destruction they caused. Between the ages of 5 and 12 it was stuff like this that made me want to be a stuntman. I could watch these over and over and not get bored.

According to Wikipedia DNA is:
Deoxyribonucleic acid (DNA) is a nucleic acid that contains the genetic instructions used in the development and functioning of all known living organisms and some viruses. The main role of DNA molecules is the long-term storage of information.

There it is... the last half of the last sentence "long-term storage of information." That phrase holds the proof of my theory. Forget all of the chemical, double helix, mumbo jumbo, my long lost desires are stored in my DNA. My son's personality is blossoming and The Fall Guy of my youth is emerging in him.

I've joked with people that DaGirl is the stunt woman while DaBoy is the crash test dummy. However, the daredevil is really popping out of him. DaGirl has very little fear and apparently feels little pain. She's gotten bumps and bruises before but they don't usually stop her and you can see her calculating what it will take to perform a dangerous action. She'll then perform the action and move on to the next thing.

DaBoy's methods are different. He'll charge right into a task, if he doesn't make it, OK he'll try it until he does, and when he gets it he'll take it to the next level. He may fall and cry a lot but he still tries to accomplish his task. Case in point: My parents got them a kid sized table and folding chairs for xmas (Don't worry, the chairs are pinned and won't fold) and DaBoy had been trying to climb into them but couldn't quite get it. He tumbled out of them a few times but mastered getting on the seat fairly quickly. Next he'd stand up on the seat and hold the back rest. AND THEN ROCK THE CHAIR ON THE BACK TWO LEGS... The chairs have gone on a little vacation.

We have two mini rocking chairs (one was a gift when DaGirl was born and the other DaBoy just got for his birthday) and they are identical in structure with the only difference being the upholstery. If either of these chairs is under something he likes (window, TV, desk top, etc.) he will climb onto the seat, stand up and rock the chair while reaching for the contraband he can't reach from the floor.

"Laser like focus" DaGirl's speech therapist has remarked about DaBoy's attention level.

More cases to make the point:
How many one year olds...
...race their 2.5 year old big sister up a flight of stairs? and almost win?
...climb on top of storage bins and stand to beat on the TV screen.
...hang onto the dog's fur to dog surf around the house.
...can climb up a step stool and stand in less than 3 seconds and start grabbing things off the counter.

Yes, we could (and do) put more stuff away but his partner in crime takes it out again. They really are Bonnie and Clyde, only she's the strong one. She'll drag a bin full of toys around the house and then he'll climb it. Or she'll pull out the step stool, open it, and he'll climb it.

I'm told I was never like this.
I'm told DaMom was never like this.
Aren't we lucky to have such daredevils!

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A Toddler, A Dog, and The F-Bomb

Yesterday while playing with a toy that wasn't cooperating with her desires, DaGirl dropped the F-Bomb.

She even used it properly. Not that that was the best word to start the whole word/action recognition thing but at least she started with an easy, universal word. The F-Bomb has so many uses and opens up worlds of creativity in language. Enough of that, this is a serious issue (if only I could stop chuckling).

When DaMom asked her where she heard that word before, DaGirl answered with "Scrappy". Now I'll admit our dog gets blamed for a lot of things but that's because he does a lot of bad things but I don't think cursing is one of his more prevalent faults.

This morning when DaGirl got up she started chanting "F**k F**k F**k F**k"
DaMom: Are you quacking like a duck (a favorite pastime) ?
DaGirl: no
DaMom: Then, what are you saying?
DaGirl: F**K
DaMom: Where did you learn that word?
DaGirl: Scrappy

So there you have it, my dog cusses like a sailor, my daughter is adamant that he taught her how to use it, and we're trying to let the whole thing slide and be forgotten.

Miss Manners she is not.

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Razzzberries

My kids love razzberries, you know, blowing on their bellies and making that farting sound. They love getting them. They love giving them!

Last night during story time in DaGirls room, DaMom was on the floor with DaBoy and DaGirl was in my lap in the chair as I read. DaBoy was crawling all over the room not staying in one place for more than 30 seconds until....he got behind DaMom.

DaMom was on her side and he climbed up her back, lifted her shirt and started blowing on her belly. The kid is a natural at it. He sounds just like a whoopy cushion. DaMom is pretty ticklish and he started her on a laughing fit.

How do one get an 11.5 month old off if one can't reach him since he's mounted a rear attack?

Naturally I did what any good parent would do to help another parent in need, I sent DaGirl in to help DaBoy mount a frontal assault!!! After a couple of minutes of fart sounds and gasp inducing laughter they grew tired of molesting mommy and stopped. Man it was funny to watch!

DaMom: Why didn't you help me?
DaGoof: It was fun. Besides you needed the laugh.
DaMom: Yeah, well I wish they would do it to you instead of me!
DaGoof: But they know they can get away with it, with you!

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Quote of the night

"I'M NOT A POW, I'M A MOMMY!!"

DaMom to DaBoy after he started torturing her after his last feeding before bed.

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The Eagle has Landed....

...In the throne.

WoooHooo, DaGirl pooped in the potty voluntarily!!!!

Last night she did her evening business in the potty and not in her diaper. She was so proud of herself she went back into her room and told Scrappy "pooped in potty, pooped in potty."

It was so freakin cute!

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