Bleep, and other 'it' words

This week, I discovered potty words are not all bad.  Like fire, they are tools, and can be used for good or evil.

Big is learning to read, and we were doing rhyming words.  We had had an accidental discovery of what happens when you put 'sh' in front of 'it'.  A quick switch to 'at' words lead to a similar...issue, shall we say, only in the past tense.  This lead to an explanation of what the word was, and WHY IT WAS VERY BAD IDEA TO USE IT.  ESPECIALLY IN SCHOOL.  OR IN PUBLIC.  (Pretty pretty please, not in the Starbucks, with a venti on top. )

This ensured, of course, that Big thought this was the funniest word EVER.

So I let the kid have one minute to talk to his grandpa using the word 'poop' and 'toilet' as many times as he could.  Completely distracted him.

Awesome!

We're baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!

Little is not quite 17 months, but thinks she's two.  Her most frequently used word is 'no', of course, and she throws the cutest little temper tantrums, with little legs flailing.  (But don't tell her I said so.)

Husband brought home pretzels, which Little ADORES. 

Little: (Pointing to prezels) Dis?
Me:  Ok, you can have one if you say 'pretzel'.
Little: (pause) tzl?
Me:  Good JOB!

Little finishes pretzel, wants another.
Little: Dis?
Me: Ok, say pretzel.
Little: Dis?
Me: No, say pretzel.  I know you can.
Little: No.  Dis?
Me: No, pretzel.
Little: DIS?
Me:Nope.  If you want a pretzel, you've got to say it.
Little: NO.
Me: Please will work too.
Little: No.
Me:  You're out of luck then.
Little: No.
Me: No, you're not out of luck?  What are you going to do then?
Little: Daddy.

Oh, and Little thinks the proper place to store silly bands is under her chin. She keeps forgetting though, that to keep them there, she's got to look down.  She's always a bit suprized when they don't stay.

Ok, right now, I'm trying to write a story, while Little is trying very hard to distract me with a temper tantrum.  Seriously, she's barely over a year, and already she's got the flailing arms, kicking legs, and oh my lord, the screech.  Oh, and did I mention, it was because I refused to give her my wedding ring to play with?

So, life's been crazy lately.  Seriously, who knew something spilled on the floor could be both sticky and slippery? 

I have lately discovered that the "why" stage of questioning we hit at about age three gets repeated when your own children hit about five. 

Why are there soap bubbles?  Where the freak are they coming from?
Why are there diapers in the dishwasher?
Seriously kid, why's your shirt upside down?  How'd you manage that?


Anyway, my husband needs the computer, the baby is crying, and I know I've been away a while, but I'll be back real soon!

We're sorry, your call cannot be completed as dialled.

Little just got the cell phone. She was very excitedly hitting buttons, babbling about her daddy when she accidentally hit the off button:

Caw Da-de! caw Da De!...oooops

How to do the dishes.

1. Open dishwasher.
2. Get Little off dishwasher door; move her to other side of room.
3.  Remove silverware.  KNIVES FIRST! KNIVES FIRST!
4. Grab little before she grabs the forks; distract with toys.
5. Remove other flatware.
6.Take Little out of dishwasher again.
7. Take plates away from Little, distract with Tupperware/wooden spoon.
8.Remove plates.
9.Remove diaper Little has-surprisingly neatly-put in dish rack.
10. Get Little off dishwasher door; move her to other side of room.
11. Start unloading top rack.
12. Admire Little's dance moves as she tries to shimmy her way up to the top rack.
13. Put cups away.
14. Get Little out of dishwasher.

Attempt to load dirty dishes in washer; think better of it and leave until bedtime.

Last Friday night, I was really tired and achy.  So tired, that I went to bed before the kids.  However, I did not go to sleep right away. 

See, Big had just gotten out of a bath.  Husband sent him to his room to get pajamas on, while he cleaned up the baby.  Basically, Big is in his room-directly opposite mine-and Husband is downstairs, in the kitchen.  Husband has obviously told Big not to be too loud, as Mommyomy is trying to sleep.  And I hear the following:

(Loud whisper) Daddy!...Daddy!  Daaaaady...I need a shirt daddy!  Daddy?  Daaaaaddddy

And don't ask me how I know, but I knew, I just knew...

There was a completely naked little boy outside my door.

The Conversation that Ensued

 Big?

Hi Mommy!

Hi, Honey.  Um, are you...wearing clothes?

Um, I was? putting on clothes?  but I can't find a shirt.

Ok, baby, but, you've got underwear in your room, right?

(clearly not getting where I am going) yeah...

And pants?  You've got pj pants, or sweats?

Yeah...

So why don't you put those on?

But...I need a shirt.

But maybe you can put on your pants and then get a shirt?

But the shirts are downstairs?

So, how about you put on your pants, and THEN go downstairs and tell Daddy about your shirt problem?

OH!....Ok.

In other news, Little spent a good deal of Saturday pulling tissues out of a box ("bah!") and then stuffing them back in ("bah-bah!")  And it only cost a dollar for for a day full of joy! Take THAT Fancy Toy Store!