I should be going to bed. If I don't make it to yoga at 6 a.m., I blame you.
So, here's the greatest moments in parenting for the week thus far. (and yes, it's only Monday). Many of you have already seen my facebook update of :
if you see Maddie today and think, "Wow, her hair has a nice, extra crisp finish and she smells lemon fresh" that would be because I sprayed her hair with STARCH, not hairspray this morning on accident. Please don't light up by her today, she's highly flammable.
That was actually Sunday before church. I posted it today because I was still chuckling about it. Here's the scoop.
I'm frantically trying to get myself and all 3 girls ready for church. I've got 2 girls down, Maddie to go. I run to my room and grab the hairspray off my dresser. I run back. I start spraying. Maddie gives me this concerned and confused look
"Mom, what are you doing?"
"I'm spraying your hair."
"With
what???"
Crap. What to do, what to do? Keep on curling? No, it says it's flammable. But I use it with a hot iron. No. Probably shouldn't risk it. No time to wash it. Must put it up and pray there isn't a fire at church.
Adventure #2 happened while I was washing Madison's hair late Sunday night. I show Jeramy Macie's diaper that is hanging down almost to her ankles. I ask if he's changed her today. "No" Huh. I haven't either. He decides he can change that very wet diaper. I am grateful. Then I hear a loud "Thump" and a louder "OH MY HECK." I ask what the problem is. This is Jeramy's pretty shaken up reply.
"I threw Macie's diaper to the bottom of the stairs and....it exploded." This I must see. Sure enough, diaper "bits" all over my carpet, cabinets, baby blankets and dolls that had been lined up at the bottom of the stairs. Poor dolls, never saw it coming. I thought to grab the camera, but who really wants to see all that grossness??
Adventure #3 was tonight at the Dinosaur Museum. At the Erosion table, Lindsay informed me that she needed to go to the bathroom. Just what every parent loves to hear, eh? I take her out and get to the bathroom and decide I should go also. I leave her on her own and we jabber back and forth about the goings on in the bathroom. She's taking a while. She informs me that "she's going to poop." I'm done by then. I'm walking out when I hear her toilet flush. Oh no. Automatic flushers - her biggest fear.
Shrill scream and panic..."MOM!" I open her door and find her standing with her pants around her knees and her arms folded across her chest. "Mom, it flushed on me and I wasn't done." She's almost in tears.
"I'm sorry, honey. Get back up and finish." She looks at me very sternly and says,
"No. I'm not getting up there until that toilet learns its lesson." (it flushes again) "MOM!!!"
I laugh and laugh and laugh some more. Then I give her my motherly advice
"You can either get up there again and hope it doesn't flush, or you can hold it."
She held it.
I sure hope that toilet learned its lesson tonight.
Never a dull moment at the Wakewii home...