The Magic of Candy Corn

Recently I posted about my frustration with Janna's refusal to poop on the potty. And it was just that - a refusal. She knew she needed to poop and she knew where the poop needed to be.

In the last 7 days, Miss Janna has pooped on the potty 8 times!! The trick? Candy corn! Well, that and a healthy dose of pediatrician-prescribed Miralax (turns out that Janna has the same problem Elliott had when she was 2 - constipation is a bitch). Since her poop was too big and solid to come out easily on the potty, she would wait until she was all cozy in her bed for a nap, and let it work its way out. Which was all well and good. Except that it really wasn't good. She was so full of poop that she wasn't able to eat, and when she finally did poop she was in misery. Her poor bottom was a disaster. But the last week has been wonderful! No tummy troubles, no blistered (and bleeding) heiney...no nothing. Except a very happy Little Girl (and Mommy)!! If 2 pieces of candy corn (which is absolutely disgusting stuff in my book) are going to keep her wanting to poop on the potty - then she can have it - I'm not above bribing!!

Post-It Note Tuesday

I love these things...LOVE them.

All About MEme Monday

As a way of trying to maintain some sort of sanity, I am going to try to post more often. Maybe not every day, but on a more regular basis. And playing along with Supah's MEmes and stuff is a really easy way for me to vent. I don't really have to wrack my brain to find something to write about.

So...today's Meme is all about darkness. The idea is to write about what scares you...or the scariest thing that every happened to you...just something that brings out your dark side. So here goes...

♦ I am petrified of snakes. PETRIFIED. Just writing that is making me all nervous and tingly. When I see those horrible documentaries on tv, I immediately curl my feel underneath me and shake. And then I imagine that there are snakes under the couch waiting to bite me. Same with the toilet...if I sit on it, they will bite my ass. In the summer, I live in fear that one day I will open the kids' sandbox and there will be a snake lying in wait...all curled up in the sand. One day this summer I saw a tiny, wee little garter snake at Erin's house...and I almost shit myself. I screamed like the little girl that I am (so did Erin after I told her about it...heehee!!).

♦ While it's not scary...I get all kinds of witchy when my kids (or any kids) run through my house. It makes me crazy. There is no need to run and stomp through the house...none. And I punish that shit worse than I punish potty talk or food-throwing. So...if you come to play, tell your kids not to run. Or throw food. Or mess with my stuff. Or climb the walls. Or jump on my couch. Or mess with the cupboards. Or wipe their noses on my furniture.

♦ If you want to really see some snarly, nasty Momminess...please...back-talk. I dare you. Or if you don't want to use sass, then please talk like a baby. When you aren't a baby. Or if that doesn't float your boat, just don't answer. Stare off into space while I talk to you. Maybe add a few shrugs of your shoulders in for good measure. No really...I dare you to try it. If you get smacked, it's your own fault.

♦ Again...while it isn't really scary, I don't swim in "public water". It freaks me out. Lakes, ponds, rivers, public pools, creeks...no way. I don't even let ocean water get any higher than my knees. There's sharks in there!! And all kinds of other beasts. And pubic hair. Ewwwwwwww.

♦ I'm scared to death of death. I don't even want to think about it.

♦ Scary movies freeeeeeeeeak me out. I cover my eyes and scream...again...like the little girl that I am. So do haunted houses. Even the really cheesy ones.

♦ Blood scares me. The sight...the color...the smell...it makes me all flushed and short of breath. When Gabriel fell down the steps a few years ago and had blood pouring from his little head, I almost passed out. And then I started wigging out.

♦ Maggots. And that's all I'm going to say about that.

♦ Hypocrisy. Makes me friggin' insane. It brings out my dark side more than snakes covered with maggots, bloody kids that are running and back-talking at the same time while watching a scary movie and swimming in a creek. Ok, so maybe not as dark as the other things on this list, but it's still worthy of this post.

Life

My Aunt Sally bravely fought cancer for a long time - she lost that battle on Monday evening at age 62. My Dad called to break the news (news that we all knew was coming), and needless to say, I'm upset. No. I'm sad. My Dad sent out an e-mail this morning to all of his family and friends, and I think that upset me more than his initial phone call. For the first time ever, I actually thought of Sally as someone other than an Aunt that I only got to see once every three years. She was his sister. And he's got to be devastated. His brothers must be as well.

I tend to be a fairly negative person. I view the world through glass-half-empty eyes, and I'm not ashamed to admit that. Life very often sucks. Sure there are good parts...they go hand-in-hand with the bad parts. Sally's death has made me think about life. My life.

I am a stay-at-home-mom to three gorgeous, albeit unruly, children. And I absolutely adore them. I have never (and will never) taken them for granted - they are my life. Though my days are long and tough, and I have no reprieve from my daily stresses (namely children in this matter), I honestly wouldn't change much about my life. I am a strong (though very rightly agitated) woman, and I can handle whatever life throws at me.

Sally never had children of her own. For whatever reason, she didn't want them. She married a man with two daughters, and that was enough for her. She loved spending time with her nieces and nephews when she got the chance, and every time we were together she told me how wonderful of a job I was doing - that it was so great to see me take charge of such a hard, thankless job. I appreciate her words now more than ever.

Sally and Gabe playing at the cottage.

Sally and my Uncle Bill tickling Janna. (Unfortunately, I can't find any pictures of Sally with Elliott.)

** As some of you are aware, Janna has a Build-a-Bear dog she lovingly named "Baboo". Baboo is her "bess fwenn". Until today, we had no idea why Janna chose the name Baboo.

While we were in the car this morning, we were talking about Snoopy and the Great Pumpkin. We love Snoopy around here!! After a while Janna started whispering soft nothings to her stuffed cat (after leaving Baboo at the ped's office and having to turn all the way around to go back and get her...Baboo has to stay home now.). She was telling the cat about her "Sweet Baboo". For those of you who are Peanuts fans, you will remember that "Sweet Baboo" is what Sally calls Linus. It's also what I used to call Janna when she was tiny. Mystery solved!!

Things That Piss Me Off...

I'm very easily annoyed. We all know that. I'm not at all patient, and I have a hairpin trigger temper. Most everything pisses me off!! But lately, I find myself even more annoyed than usual. So, since I can...here's the list of my latest peeves.

Cars. Jon's POS car died a few months ago, so we bought him a beater to get through the next few months til we can afford to buy something better. Yeah. This "new" car? It's an even bigger POS. Keen. We've spent more money on it than I care to divulge, and yesterday? It broke again. I'm about ready to drive it off a friggin' cliff. Only I won't. Because it's worth nothing.

Condescension. I hate it almost as much as I hate patronization. Oh, and judgment. I use my blog, website, and Facebook page as ways to communicate what I'm going through at that precise moment. Of course I'm asking for judgment and stupid comments about my updates, but please...for the love of whatever...do NOT be condescending. For the most part, the people who comment on my updates (mainly on Facebook) have no idea who I am. Our kids might go to school together, at one time we might have gone to school together...but you don't really know me. Or at least you don't know me anymore. So keep your condescending trap shut. Don't accuse me of being ungrateful, ignorant, or of being a whack-job. I like to hear your thoughts and opinions, but don't give me shit because you don't happen to like mine.

The weather. Ok, Mother Nature. Make up your friggin' mind already. One day it's cold, the next, warm. My poor sinuses can't take much more. Neither can Janna's.

And speaking of Janna...Janna. Miss Thang refuses to poop on the potty. REFUSES. And girlfriend needs to get over that. She can tell you in the most explicit and grammatically proper way that she needs to poop. And that said poop belongs in the potty. And after sitting on the potty for 45 minutes? Janna will then promptly poop in her diaper. Which has been strapped to her butt for less than 5 minutes. She will then tell me (again with full sentences) that she would like to be changed, please. And that she's sorry for pooping in her pants. And that next time she will go on the potty.

Now before you get all judgy-judgerton on me, I realize that she's 2. And that not all 2 year-olds are ready to poop on the potty. But I'm of the opinion that if a kid can express in complete sentences that she actually knows what poop is, that she needs to do it, that it should be done in the potty, that her dirty diaper needs to be changed, and that she's sorry she did it in the pants...then she's ready to poop on the potty.

My list can go on and on...but I just realized that I have to get my ass in gear. It's field trip time...and I'm sure that will be added to said list on a later date...