To Tell or Not to Tell

I've been going back and forth on whether or not to write about this experience in the blog. I mean, there are some things that happen in life that are really great stories, but there are only a few people you can get away with telling them to. These are people who will love you anyways, once they know the horrible truth of what happened. When I told my husband what happened, he immediately said "that's going on the blog," but I wasn't so sure. I mean, some of you reading this might one day buy a baby blanket from me. Or perhaps you already have - do I want you to know these things happen to me? Well, I thought about it and went back and forth, and finally decided what the heck. Maybe I'm not the only one.

Moses has never been one of those kids who gets into things. He didn't pick up and eat tiny objects as a baby, and we've never had any of those America's Funniest Home Videos moments where I went into the next room (perhaps this is because I don't have a "next room" in my minescule house) and found him naked and covered in diaper rash cream. He's never been one of those kids... until this week. This week he made up for 3 years of not getting into things. This week he squirted all of Titus' saline nasal spray into the heater vent. This week he fertilized his entire room with baby powder. This week he made me a "basket of knitting needles":
out of the other basket:
And this week he did something else. Something I was absolutely not prepared for. This week he pooped in the back yard. That's right. My 3 year old son, who has been fully potty trained for over a year, voluntarily dropped his drawers, not once, but TWICE and pooped in our back yard. I missed his first "session." All I caught was the guilty look he cast me over his shoulder as he came walking around from behind the rose bushes. I asked him several times what he had done, and he kept giving me an innocent "nothing!" Then, as he made his way to the lavender and started pulling down his pants, I felt a twinge of alarm. "Moses, what are you doing?" He responded, "I think Thor wants to poop in these bushes..." This is when my dusty psychology degree kicked in: "Wait a minute... when he says Thor [the dog], is he talking about himself?!?!" And sure enough: session number two.

I ran out there and made him stop (what?) and ran him inside to the human toilet, tossing all his clothes into the hamper as I went. After a very serious conversation about why dogs can poop outside and humans can't (all I could come up with is "because that's the way the world works."), I headed back outside to take care of his poop. And this is where sharing this story becomes questionable. I walked over to the poop wondering "What would Brett do?" because he is always the one who handles poop and dead birds in the yard. I had finally settled on a strategy involving a long-handled shovel and a plastic bag, when nature took care of the problem for me. The dog ate the poop.

It all happened so fast that there was really no way I could stop it. To be completely honest, I don't know if I was more horrified that my dog had just eaten my son's poop, or relieved that I had just gotten out of cleaning it up myself. Unbelievable.

So now you know. And now you should also know that all Junie None products and materials are stored in air-tight plastic bins far away from the reach of roaming pooping 3 year olds and poop eating dogs. I promise!

Three Things You Probably Didn't Want to Know About Me

My bud Jen has tagged me, so now I get to tell you three random facts about me.

1.) I have been bitten by a monkey. If I can get my hands on a scanner some day, I'll show you the picture.

2.) I once had my toe broken by my dad's blind dog Watson who ran me down while running gleefully up the driveway.

3.) At one time I owned not one, not two, but FIVE rabbits, all of which had no feet. There is a very good story here, but you'll have to wait for the book I keep threatening to write. Or you can ask Mandy - she was there when it all went down.

And I know the picture has nothing to do with all this. It was just too cute to resist sharing - don't you just want to squish all those cute cheeks?!?!

Fresh Air

Which is worse: an actual fever or cabin fever? This week we're learning that both are bad, but a combination of the two is just about lethal. Today, which is day #4 of Moses' actual fever, the sun came out, and so did we. It was lovely - definitely still winter out there, but an early California spring is threatening.
It's so amazing to watch otherwise healthy kids deal with sickness - it makes you realize that we are not born with the propensity to feel sorry for ourselves. That is an adult problem. There was my very sick 3 year old playing around in the mud and crawling through bushes as if nothing was wrong with him. After about an hour he stopped and, sucking a very grubby thumb, told me "I'm sweaty!" Sure enough - the Tylenol had worn off. So it was into the bathroom, wash up, lots of hand sanitizer (that's his new favorite thing!), more Tylenol, and down for a nap. That one hour was nice, though - fresh air is good for the soul.
I hope you're having a wonderful germ-free Friday!

Germs

This should give you an idea of what we've been up to lately...

A Productive Day!

Ah - it feels so nice to get more than the necessary things done in a day. Today I not only managed to keep us all alive, but I got a few other things done as well. I quilted most of the coasters I've been working on - above is my new favorite fabric combination. Turquoise and red! So cheery.
I also found an empty space (this is a HUGE treasure in an 800 square-foot house!) which I managed to organize a bit. Now my unfinished projects have a place to live other than the back of the couch.
And I finished up a custom order - it was small, but it sure felt good to get it done! Now it's time to get to work on Valentine's Day... I don't have huge plans, but I'd like to do something special for my boys. Hopefully I remember to take pictures and show you how it turns out. Happy Valentine's Day to you!

My Undoing:

Quite honestly my favorite part of Valentine's Day. How ironic that the two things at the top of my to-do list are "hit the treadmill" and "call dentist." Sheesh.

The Hat That Wouldn't Be Loved

Though you look cute on top of his head
He only will wear you with dread.
Your colors of orange, blue, and teal
Do nothing but cause him to squeal.

The hours that I spent making you
were wasted, I say. Yes, I do!
I could have been cleaning my car,
running errands in town near and far,
or better yet, taking a nap
instead of creating you, cap.

It's as if you're some torture device
created to scare away mice,
cuz the sound that you precipitate
wouldst cause them to evacuate.

So from now on when I get the urge
to go to the yarn store and splurge
I'll simply look at my dear son
and remember that caps ain't no fun.

Slowly...

This next batch of coasters is coming along very slowly. I managed to sneak in a bit of time trimming the corners last night after both boys were in bed. Tonight I think I might find time to flip them all right-side-out. Then maybe the next day they will get ironed... It's funny how much busier life is with two kids - this is a project I would have finished in 2 days before Titus came along. All that sewing time is now spent gazing at my little baby and making him smile - you can see how I would get distracted!

These Cookies DO Mean Love

What's that saying... food isn't love? Something like that. Well, in my mind these cookies ARE love. My dear hubby recreated them for me after I was reminiscing about the first time I had them.

I was 8 and my mom was pregnant with her fourth child, my third brother. My mom had TERRIBLE pregnancies. If any of you have known me during my own pregnancies, just picture that, ten times worse, and for nine months straight. She was desperately ill, and I honestly don't remember ever seeing her during that pregnancy except for the one terrible time emblazoned in my mind when she calmly leaned to her left while chopping celery in the kitchen and simultaneously threw up in the kitchen sink, then kept right on chopping as if nothing had happened. I'm sure I saw her other times during that pregnancy, of course. But I really only remember hearing her - my room was across the hall from the bathroom.

In the food arena, those 9 months are a dreary blur of cheerios for breakfast, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and Oreos for lunch, and "Papa's bachelor slop number (choose 1-4, all of which have a macaroni and cheese base)" for dinner. I'm surprised us kids didn't get scurvy from the lack of produce. But then there was that one glorious day when Pam Eaves, my surrogate mother, brought us dinner. Actually, there were a lot of wonderful people who brought us dinner, but this is the one I remember. Not because of the dinner, which I'm sure was delicious, but because of the cookies, each of which had an entire Hershey's kiss in the middle of it. A cookie and candy in one! It was fantastic, and so comforting to be eating food made by a real, non-barfing woman. Ah... love.

Sweet Brettie made me a batch by using a Snickerdoodle recipe and omitting the cinnamon, then sticking a Kiss in the middle of each as soon as they came out of the oven. So so good!

Junie None in Action

Lest you should think I just make this stuff and never use it... this is the original Junie None patchwork play mat. (See Mary - we do have one!) I made it for Moses before he was born and we use it all the time - today it got barfed on thrice. :)
And here is my coaster - yep, I managed to sneak in a cup of tea at the computer while both boys were in the process of not napping. It was a quick cup of tea. 
However, due to the 3 year old not taking his nap (and I fear this is the beginning of the end of those glorious days), he was off to bed well before 8 and I have time to write this post, brew up another cup of tea, and enjoy it this time along with hubby while we watch something mindless on tv. Ah, the good life. :)