Leaky Journey

How does one begin to write intelligently about potty training?

This is how I was hoping our story would read:

Once upon a time there was a boy in diapers. One morning, he became a big boy and started using the toilet. The End.

We’re gradually figuring this potty thing out. We’re farther ahead then we were last week. In the meantime, we have washed a lot of underwear and cleaned up a few spills, the most notable a half-full cupholder in Jason’s truck. It was a miniature wishing well, with stray coins in the bottom of a pool of liquid. Last night, I was about to walk out the door to my Bible Study, when a splashing drip from Owen’s chair at the table caught my eye. “Going potty!” he proclaimed. A large puddle formed quickly as Jason and I could only stand, blankly staring. Jason finally threw a kitchen towel down and went to start bathwater. I leaned in and left a huge lipstick smack in the middle of Owen’s forehead, then bolted. Bye-bye!

Happy Spring!

True to family tradition, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to bless my sister-in-law with a birthday present. Especially as I thought of the last treasure she crafted for me, a pair of bobby-pin earrings.



Hope you enjoy your fashionable bag, dear Leslie! I expect to see you carrying it soon. You truly are getting better all the time.

Owen's Big Day

Happy Birthday, Aunt Les! Owen made his first stinky in the potty today. I would consider that a fine birthday present.

I feel like we've had a week and a half's worth of living in 2 1/2 days. Monday was monumental for Owen, as he saw a new pediatric ENT in Birmingham (a 3-hour drive one-way). Owen's speech has not been progressing, and we think there may be an issue that would require surgery, worst-case scenario. It was a comfort to us that Dr. Wiatrak has seen cases similar to Owen's and knew what to do next, because we have seen two ENTs in Mobile who couldn't help us. He is sending us to a speech pathologist that he works with all the time, and he will see us again that same day. We'll be able to tell from their imaging techniques what is really going on inside Owen's mouth, and whether he will need intense therapy, surgery or both. Unfortunately for Owen, it will involve a scope. He usually does very well on doctor visits, but he might protest that maneuver.
Along Jack Springs Road in Atmore. It was a beautiful day. Owen engaged his tractor's turn signal when we made turns, and hollered, "Blinker! Blinker! Blinker!"
We stopped along the way, and tried to make it a fun day. Here's Owen checking out the Auburn merchandise at Priester's Pecans along I-65. This little bear played the fight song, and then said, "War Eagle!"Sampling chocolate is what we do best.

Waiting for Mommy at Priester's.
The slide at McDonald's. We're going there for supper tonight again, thanks to Owen dropping a #2 in the can.
Dr. Wiatrak's waiting room had one of the best toys I've ever seen--the cars were operated by a magnet from underneath.
He finally fell asleep at 5:00 on the way home.


Jason tried to get a picture of this famous sign on North I-65. The final phrase, obscured by the guardrail, reads, "or the devil will get you." Makes you wonder how many people have gotten saved as a result?
A present for our baby, found at Priester's. Gotta start 'em young!
And a present for myself. I found it on clearance for $5.00. I had seen similar bowls at Wrapables when I ordered a shower curtain last year. It just makes me smile.
Since we started yesterday with Owen's potty training, I suppose I should be eating every meal out of this bowl.

Chicks and things

When I was young, one of my treasures was a molded plastic comb in the shape of a seahorse. In my girlish mind, seahorses were at the top of the COOL list along with unicorns, rainbows and holographic stickers. As an adult, the last informative TV program I saw about seahorses left me thinking they were kind of gross.

I’ve been thinking about seahorses lately, but only because the male is the one who bears the offspring. In the middle of my pregnancy with this third child, I glance sidelong at Jason and think…..male pregnancy…..now that would be a good thing. In your best Schwarzenegger accent, think It’s not a tumor.

I know God had a perfect plan in his creation of mankind, but in my human weakness I grasp for total experiential sympathy from the husband. Not that Jason is mocking me, but he looked at me this morning and said with a goofy grin, “Nice overalls.” Smack. Maternity pants are always falling down, needing a constant hitch-up, and when yesterday my thumb mashed through the crotch fabric in my favorite jeans from all the hitching up, this morning I accepted defeat and unearthed the denim overalls from college days. I have also weathered his smirks from rushing to the bathroom for relief from a couple teaspoons of pee.

And the middle-of-the-night angst…a pregnant lady must arise at least once a night to pee. Imagine the agonizing dilemma a simple cold brings. Nasal congestion transforms me into a mouth-breather at night, which completely dries out the oral cavity. Getting a glass of water in the middle of the night guarantees another trip to the bathroom. So I lie awake trying to work up the spit to go back to sleep.

But then there are all the nice things about carrying a baby—a new wardrobe, snacks full of protein, the baby’s kicks and somersaults that are wonderful to feel. Jason has no concept. Because every time you grab his hand for him to feel the baby kick, the baby stops moving, silly thing.

Anywho, in other news, the kids and I took a field trip to Central Farm Supply and picked up a surprise.

The peeping that occurred on the way home was almost too much for the kids to stand. The chicks were placed into a small vented box which was taped shut, and they loudly chirped their confusion. Owen and Helen couldn't wait to get their little hands on those balls of fluff.
The poor chicks wised up to my children after a day. They now run from grabbing hands and don't hesitate to jump from astounding heights to get back to the warmth and safety of the large box in the garage.
And here's one more picture, fresh this morning, proving Owen is not scarred from his fire jammies, although he did protest them loudly last night.

Feeling better

We are all better from being sick, except for nasty hacking, dry coughs. The kids have that bossy attitude that follows sickness, but we'll survive.

A few pictures from this week:
Munching on frozen blueberries.

Munching on an oatmeal chocolate chip cookie. Somehow I think she looks like my baby brother Lyndon in this picture.
Cooking along with Rachael Ray, using cutting edge toy technology, thanks to my mom. Helen and Owen had a fight over who got to push the red Member's Mark "button" on top. They invented that one.
New shoes. Jason wondered if they came with ear plugs. They're the clicky-clacky kind that every little girl loves.

New dress made by her mama. The buttons on the front are pre'y (pretty). Anything with a flower or a bright color is pre'y.

Fire Extinguisher

Several years ago, I was contracted to sew some shirts for someone's daughter. She was involved in rodeos, needed Western shirts, and liked her gear to look flashy. I just sew as I'm told. So after all my work of painstakingly matching flames and perfectly sewing and finishing seams, she never picked up or paid for the shirt, and I was left with it and all the fabric for the other shirts she had ordered.
Here it is, in all its blazing glory. Any bids? Women's size small. Some would think it hot with black jeans.

I had been wanting to sew a pair of pajamas for Owen. I have made pajamas for three nephews so far and nightgowns for two nieces and for Helen. But I couldn't find the right fabric.

Then I remembered the stash I had from the un-sewn Western shirts, and thought maybe the fabric would be cuter with a different interpretation...Owen wasn't terribly enthused. We had to make him wear them, since he likes his tractor pajamas and his dinosaur pajamas. We refer to these new ones as his pimp jammies (not in front of him!) The poor kid might be scarred for life, because we laughed so hard the first time we saw him in them. They're pretty oversized for him, and Jason commented it looked like a zoot suit.

On another, sicker note, we have had what we presume to be the flu. Jason caught it somewhere last week, then brought it home to share with the rest of us. I do not get sick very often, and I was willing my way through this one. But Saturday night, I woke up freezing, feverish and feeling like I had hopped in front of a swinging wrecking ball. Sheer misery. I briefly thought, "Lord, take me home."

Helen woke up Sunday morning looking like I felt. The two of us just sort of pathetically existed yesterday. And now Owen woke up with a fever and a cough this morning, although he still wanted his moatmeal and a peppermint and a cookie. Helen is still sleeping, as of 9:17, so she probably is not back to normal yet.

And to make matters worse, I ran out of coffee this morning. Sheer misery.

First Purchase

I felt the need to get out of the house tonight, so I planned a family trip to Wal-Mart. Big stuff, I know.

Finally, the supper dishes were done and everyone was clean and ready--at 7 pm, an hour before the kids' bedtime.

And then a certain little girl got cranky. And since a certain Mr. had been feeling head-coldish all day and was less than enthused about the impromptu visit to Wally World, the family trip turned into an Owen-and-Mommy date.

Owen went into ecstatic shock the moment I mentioned the change of plans to him. And when I got his bank down and asked him if he wanted to take some of his money to buy gum or a treat, it was like the last day of school in a 4th grade classroom. He couldn't contain himself. Smiles and belly laughs and happy growls, jumps and hops and circles, attempts at throwing his shoes in the air....

He chose to sit in Helen's carseat instead of his own, and we grooved to Eric Clapton all the way to Bay Minette. We then cruised the store, stopping to smell lots of shampoo for Mommy, watch the fish for Owen and try on shoes for Mommy. Owen played with Mommy's Suave shampoo and conditioner and with his new Colgate Diego toothpaste. We bought "mahanoni" and milk. "Mahanoni" and cheese is Owen's favorite lunch right now, one he insists upon if his cousin Blake is at our house, and my pantry was slap out of the box o' goodness.

We pulled up to a cashier and I let Owen choose his treat from the aisle of impulse, since he was using his own money. I wasn't prepared for the choice he made, and I snickered all the way home. I don't know where he learned about Rice Krispie treats, especially the individually packaged ones. I don't make them myself, except for a batch of chocolate-peanut butter ones I did since Christmas. All I know is it was the biggest thing available in that whole selection--this bar was absolutely HUGE.

We stopped at Sonic, a drive in, and shared a coconut cream pie shake. When Owen put down his Rice Krispie treat, stopped slurping on the straw and started playing with the rearview mirror, it was time to go home.

He spent a little time dancing around, loving on his daddy, eating more Krispie treat and taking my picture before going to bed.
We wrapped up the three quarters of the treat he couldn't manage tonight. I guess my plans for his breakfast are made. (HA! That was for you, Mom.)