flumpie: (Default)
I used to have a clean house. Now, despite picking up 20, 30, 500 times a day, it always looks like a tornado came through. Which I guess is a semi-reasonable comparison. You're very busy.

Today I had to move the kitchen trash can into the cat bathroom - behind the gate. We will just never have people use that bathroom now. The reason for this move is because you keep throwing things into the trash; including my car keys. And the Baby Jesus from your Fisher Price Nativity set. So I'm obviously raising a heathen.

You have a little bucket with shaped blocks in it. It has a cover with holes the shape of the blocks. You're just starting to figure out that the lid does something. But you're not quite ready to figure out how to sort the blocks. Which frustrates you. So you threw the lid out as well.

Then you threw the blocks into my toilet. So now that bathroom door is closed permanently. And the blocks had a bleach bath.

Last night, your sister gave you a sip of her Baskin and Robbins Mocha Blast - not exactly the type of food you get from me. I didn't even know you knew how to drink out of a straw! You loved it. And you bellowed your way through the commissary in order to get more.

Today you tried to get your own juice:






You like to clap along with TV audiences - like on Oprah. And you get very indignant unless everyone else in the house claps too.

You're starting to throw yourself face-down on the floor when you're upset. Unforunately, I upset you last night in the bathtub by telling you to sit down. So you flung yourself face-down into the water. And were very surprised when it didn't turn out well.
flumpie: (Kanga and Roo)
Tonight was a coffee for the wives in my group. Colonel S is home on leave and decided to come. None of us knew he was planning on coming. I certainly wasn't, anyway. Had I known he was coming, I probably wouldn't have been holding Charlie with my left hand so she could nurse while, at the same time, drinking a glass of chardonnay with my right hand.

Colonel S also decided to show us a presentation he'd put together with pictures from what's going on over in Mosul.

In the middle of the most poignant part of the presentation, Charlie decided she had to go to the bathroom. With some degree of urgency, apparently. Complete with grunting-from-the-effort-of-doing-so noises. As well as the other kind of noises.

*sigh*

I'm fairly certain this was not per-regulation.

Wow

Feb. 8th, 2006 02:39 pm
flumpie: (Eeyore - Floating Calm)
You have some impressively disgusting diapers. Very different from your sister. I keep telling you that if you just went once every day it would be so much easier on all of us than going an incredible amount once every 3-4 days. So far you're not listening.

Today, while I was on the phone, you somehow managed to go through your diaper up onto your back and neck and even into your few stray wisps of hair.

I'm tired of holding onto you all naked, slimy, and slippery and trying vainly to think of what to do with you next. Particularly since you then smile at me in such an "isn't this fun, Mom?" kind of way.

Today I just climbed into the tub with you.

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