It was a hot and sticky day yesterday and the kids were crabby and I didn't feel up to the task of loading them into the car and going to the pool. So I stuck them in my bathtub to play "aquarium". Perfect, they are playing happily, I am going through my overflowing inbox of junk and mail. O starts to get fussy so I get up (I was sitting on the bathroom floor, about 1.5 feet from the tub) and go to get him out. And then I notice all the dirt in the tub. Lots of dirt. Chunky dirt. More dirt than could have even come off of my kids. Yep, O pooped in the bathtub with A in there, with about 20 new sealife creatures. Crap. Literally. Just to make sure, I say, "A, where did all this dirt come from?" And of course he answers, "From O". Time to get out the bleach. Blech.

And then, while I am cleaning up the mess, I see O sucking on something. Yes, that is a cashew that A must have dropped on the floor earlier. Yes, I am pretty sure 11 month old babies aren't supposed to eat cashews. No obvious reaction so hopefully we are in the clear there.

Then, as I am packing some snacks and drinks to go to the car show I see O sitting on the floor, not playing with toys as I thought he was but dumping the contents of my purse out. There are pennies on the floor next to him. I swab his mouth with my finger - nothing. But now I am on poop watch and hoping a penny does not appear b/c as I learned from the Slacker, pennies are not good for swallowing! Just ugh.

I shed a few tears last night, lamenting my suck momness. Some days just beat you up.

Items from M's grandparents house are slowly making their way into ours. Last night we received an '89 Buick with 30K miles on it. In mint condition, the "Sunday" car. Now it will be M's commuter car as we try to save a bit more money before taking on a new car payment with the minivan my mama-soul craves.

In the car came 5 boxes of tools and miscellaneous junk from M's grandfather's garage. He made his living as a builder, a Mr. Fix-it, a jack of all trades. Among the dozens of hammers and other tools, all mostly retro-fitted for some odd job and purpose, there was a large, dull silver pan/bowl. This was the pan that M's grandfather "panned" for gold in Colorado. Never finding any nugget of significant worth with it, I can picture Bill laughing at us and our excitement over having this piece of family and national history in our possession. It's probably been sitting in that musty garage in Colorado for 30 or more years, untouched. And now, it is here in our family room in Florida, displayed like a precious piece of art. A treasure found. A small token of memory, with little monetary value, but something precious to show our children when we tell them stories of their great-grandparents.

My post went through to Freecycle - woohoo! Someone wants my couch!

My baby fell off the bed. Much shreiking. Much guilt.

Ethan Allen called, they are bringing my new 4 poster bed tomorrow! I have wanted a canopy bed since I was a little girl and I am ridiculously excited for this grown-up version.

Gave up the quest of finding the perfect curtains within my budget. So I bought 4 60x104 tablecloths at Target for $12.99 each and they are the perfect size and the perfect color and the perfect material. They rock and I am so freaking happy that I solved the curtain dilemma and saved beaucoup bucks at the same time.

The money I saved went to buy a bike trailer so I can haul my two rug rats around behind me while I ride my bike to infinity and beyond to try to get back into some sort of shape. I put some shortish shorts on yesterday and I was scared. Old lady legs! As a former soccer player I am very vain about my legs and I was not happy with all that shakin' goin' on!

My big guy, A, pooped on the potty at Goodwill. All potty-training moms will relate - this is HUGE! Poop on a public toilet! Not in his pants! WOOHOO! So he scored a dinosaur video and dinosaur pajamas. I did not poop on the potty at Goodwill but I managed to score 2 vintage Lilly Pulitzer skirts for $0.75 each. Uh huh, you read that right - the clothes were all half off. That means kids clothes were $0.12 each piece. Joy!

After 2 weeks of driving my car around with a "thump thwack thump" noise from the back wheels I took it in today to find I need new brake something or others that are now 400 miles out of warranty. Toyota said they will still cover it. God bless this Toyota dealership. After dealing with the evilness that is BILL COOKE VOLKSWAGON in Ithaca (I was carless for 2 months!), this Toyota dealership rocks my world. I really want the Nissan minivan but am thinking of getting the Toyota Seinna for the sole reason that the dealership rocks. Like gives you an appointment the same week you call, gives you a loaner, and has coffee and a kid friendly waiting room.

And lastly, I have decided there needs to be 2 drive-thru lanes - one for poor hungry moms who can not get out of the car to buy food because they have 1 or more sleeping babies. Hell, even 1 or more crabby babies. And the other ridiculously long line will be for lazy people who want to wait in a 10 car long line for no other reason than they are too freaking lazy to go in to the restaurant. We could all see there was no line inside, yet still, there they all sat. And sat. Just one of my many pet peeves.

And that, is my day so far. When my sleeping babes wake up we are off to visit their great-grandma in the memory care clinic - and that is a post for another day. Mike and I already decided we are taking her for a walk outside, it is so, so depressing there. Enjoy your youth everyone, seriously, enjoy.

Would you think it would be that hard to give a couch away for free? You really wouldn't think so would you? But it is. And it is starting to drive me batty.

St. Vincent De Paul Society - does not accept sleeper sofas
Goodwill - no rips or stains (just a few small ones, still prettier than half the stuff I have seen there!)
Freecycle List #1 - Not approving my post for some reason, so not getting posted on the list. WTF?
Freecycle List #2 - I respond to someone looking for a sofa bed, thinking oh perfect, a match! But um no, even though her post says single mom of 2 on disability looking for a sofa bed, she does not want mine (for free!) because the theme in her living room is blue and my sofa is olive. Um, hello, if you are looking for a free sofa don't be so picky and take it for FREE and go buy an inexpensive blue slipcover!

Argh.

I have a call into Jesus House of Hope and seriously they are my last hope. I hate to put the sofa out for trash but I have no room for it, do not need it (inherited my ILs sleeper sofa which is in far better condition) and really really want it to go to someone who could use it. So if you are reading my blog and live in South Florida and have a truck and need a sofa, by all means, email me!

Neither of my kids have been easy sleepers, but O is just killing me right now. Last night up at 11, 1:30, 3:00, 5:00 and up for good at 8:30. I was woken at 8:00 however by A saying "I pooped! It's running down my leg!" But that is another story.

O is killing me. Softly and slowly, but the end affect is the same. We were doing so good, he was only waking at like 1 and 5 for the longest time and now this awful newborn schedule regression. And I am trying to read the No Cry Sleep Solution and devise the perfect sleep plan that will solve all our woes and I can not even stay awake to read the darn thing I am so freaking tired! Irony!

So if you have any solutions for getting a nursing co-sleeper who refuses any other object of comfort except for the boob to sleep through the night then have at it, let me know. Please.

Of course, I know it is time for our co-sleeping days to come to an end. The big birthday is just around the corner. But I am hanging on to these last baby days, just hanging on by a thread to this cruising, climbing, ultra-mischevious monkey boy child who really is not a snuggle lump of a baby anymore. *Sniff*

At the gas station tonight I happen to pick a pump that doesn't work. Annoying. So I screw the gas cap back on, get back in the car and reverse to the other pump. Except I left my door open. And my door hit the gas nozzle/hose and knocked it off of the machine, sent it flying to the ground where the gas nozzle then broke off of the hose. I was horrified. I felt like a boob, and was worried about having to pay for the stupid thing. Ugh, only me. A piped up from the backseat "But mom, why did you break it?" Because your mom is a boob honey. That is why.

The cashier told me to just go, not a big deal. I felt a bit weird about it, but what could I do. And as we were leaving firetrucks and ambulances were coming down the road. And A pipes up "Look mom, they are coming to fix the gas pump you broke! I know that is why they are coming! Woohoo!" Ah, the simple things.

I am afraid of jinxing myself, but I am such a proud mama I need to share. A is now the proud owner of 3 new trucks. Why? Because he pooped on the potty! And he pees on the potty! All by himself! Seriously, half the time I only know he is going because I hear the toilet flush. This is so weird. After 6 months of on again off again traiing, we went cold turkey last week and the kid hasn't looked back. We're averaging about 1 accident a day and major tanturms over which pair of underwear he is wearing - Heaven forbid the Roley Bob the Builder pants be dirty! But he is doing so well overall, I want to shout it from the rooftops!

I am happy, my wallet is happy, but just a little itty bitty bit of my heart is sad. This newfound independance makes him that much less my baby and that much more my little boy. I have a hard time letting go. But I am proud. I am damn proud.

I feel like the worst Catholic, I forgot about daylight savings and got up too late to make it to church. Bah.

"It is for you, my Brother, that I raise the cup of salvation; it is for you my Brother, that I implore peace of heart." -- Pope John Paul II

I am going to church tomorrow. To mourn the Pope. Even as a lapsed Catholic who disagreed with so much that the Pope so staunchly believed in, I feel a deep loss at his passing. I feel a bit lost actually; he is the only Pope I really remember. He IS (was?) the Catholic Church to me. It seems strange now, empty. Wondering who will be the next Pope and how can they possibly step out from the shadows into John Paul's limelight.

Despite my lapsed status, I feel this compelling need to go to church, to sit there with other Catholics, say the words, sing the songs, inhale the deep, old smell of the incense that is sure to be burning. I'll have a good cry. Not just for the Pope, for some reason I always cry at church. Usually during a song, sometimes during the Alleluia. I don't know why.

I need to call my grandparents. We're Polish. The Pope is like family. His picture
is on the wall with everyone else. I know this is hitting them hard.

I saw him once, from so far away. Rome, St Peter's Square, June 1994. More than a lifetime ago. We went to Sunday mass and the Pope was so, so far away. Giving mass from the balcony, a white speck floating on that huge building. I felt so privledged to be there, I feel that even moreso now.