Walked into Sarah's room this morning to get her dressed, and noticed that all of her stuffed monkeys were laying about the floor (not entirely unusual). Sarah also has somewhat of a fascination with medications and knows exactly what each bottle or container is used for. She has a small box in her room with these items in it and likes to play with them. Well, today she had out a container of Vaseline and a small container of infant suppositories.
Not that the rest of this is hard to figure out now, but Sarah sat down next to her monkeys and began "soothing" them (as only little girls can do). She was talking to one in particular, then turned to me, lifted up the monkey's feet as though changing a diaper and said, "Mommy! Look at this monkey's hinder!"
Sure enough -- she had liberally applied Vaseline to the monkey's hinder/crotch. She very satisfactorily looked at me and said, "The monkey had an owie on his hinder."
I am sure that nonparents won't think this is very amusing, but if you know Sarah it becomes slightly more funny. I really don't know how to remove the Vaseline, if you must know.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Hell-Mart and Hinders
I went to Wal-Mart this morning. In itself, perhaps not that interesting. But this wasn't just ANY Wal-Mart trip. This was the 5-year-old, must-remodel during the recession, CAN'T FIND ANYTHING ANYWAY, Plymouth Wal-Mart. Keep in mind that this store has ALREADY been remodeled once during this 5-year run.
Now I knew they were moving stuff around and all that, but I was unprepared for what I found at Hell-Mart this morning. First of all, half the floors have been ripped up and you now get to walk on bare cement. Except at the junctions of where there USED to be a floor and there no longer IS one, is a large bump. Most of them have been ground down to facilitate carts (since people use carts at stores) but every now and then you get to hit a bump which plummets the cart handle into your gut, and throws your un-properly-restrained children across the cart (or, even better, right off the end of the cart!). So in this Hell-Mart there are large open areas of where stuff used to be, and conspicuously-missing large segments of departments. So I walk back to the shoe department, except the shoe department is now the basket department. The shoes are where the girls' clothing used to be. I find what I am looking for (no -- REALLY!) and proceed to look for windshield wipers. The computer told me my car does not exist so I grabbed one that looked good enough.
At about this time of the excursion, I realized that I was somehow getting very consistently shocked by something. Now, being the farm girl that I am, this felt a lot like the electric fences "back on the farm". This means that about every 3-4 seconds a small, sharp "spark" shot through my left hand. I thought maybe it has something to do with Sarah touching me or some other sort of electrostatic connection. But I soon discovered that anywhere I touched the cart while walking caused a shock. So I tried to keep my hands on the plastic covering thing (which Sarah had just fully sneezed on) but no matter where I held onto the cart some part of my hand had to touch the metal. Grrrr.....
Got everything? Head for the checkouts. Now there used to be about 25 checkouts lanes. But today, however, there was a large, half-constructed "hut" sitting where 5-6 of these lanes used to be. So someone was building a building inside of another building. Only half the roof was on it, and half the walls were up, but the detector-alarm panels were already in place.
Found my lane. Once I got there I became overwhelmed with relief that I had not picked up that super-jumbo-size package of scented pantyliners -- for there was a new, extremely attractive guy working in that lane. I looked for an alternative so I would not have to face him with my bedhead and kid-stained lounging clothes, but alas -- with only 7-8 aisles remaining, there were only 3 or 4 open today. I let a lady in a hurry go before me to better prepare for the unavoidably-approaching interaction. Little did I know that she was a "problem customer". (Does this happen to anyone else?)
Lady: "That Littlest Pet Shop toy was on clearance. Why is it ringing up at $10.95?"
Cute Guy:>
Lady: "It was on the clearance shelves. It should be marked down."
Rescusing Supervisor (a.k.a. "Red Vest"): "I'm sure it was just placed on the wrong shelf while everything over there was being moved this morning. It's still $10.95."
Lady: "Well that's the normal price. It should be on clearance."
Cute Guy: "When they moved those shelved they must have just set these on the wrong shelving area. I'm sure not all the temporary workers know where everything goes."
Lady: "Well I thought $10.95 was the normal price. I've bought these before and $10.95 sounds pretty typical."
Red Vest and Cute Guy exchange glances. Lady taps her foot on the floor.
Cute Guy:> "I don't know. I don't have a daughter and have never seen these before."
Red Vest: "It's still $10.95."
Lady: "Well then they shouldn't be on the clearance shelves."
Cute Guy just rang it up and shoved it in the bag while Lady continued to whine.
My turn. Throw everything onto the conveyor belt, double-checking to make sure nothing is weird or embarassing. Apple juice, applesauce, kids' winter coats (ONLY $7!!), 2-liters of soda, windshield wiper. Whew.
Everything gets packed up and I suddenly feel desperate to leave this guy with a good impression (since I was giving Lady death looks previously).
Cute Guy: "Did you find everything ok?"
Me: <<"are you kidding" look>> "You know, Wal-Mart is nightmare on an average day; who would have thought it could be even worse??"
Cute Guy: "Ha. Ha. Ha."
Me: "So push this cart around for a while and see if it shocks YOU every 3-4 seconds."
Cute Guy: "You too?? I thought I was the only one that happened to! Its doesn't happen at any other store!"
See? Now if I hadn't said anything we would not have bonded like this. I packed up and left, making sure to suck in my stomach and swing my rear just a little bit extra. (I am HOTTTTTT!)
Next was n'Joy. Sat there for about 45 minutes before deciding to drop the soda off at Denise's house for her party tonight. Got her a mocha and headed over there. Not home. Of course. So I thought Leslie could use a mocha and went there. I gave her the mocha and she asked, "What is this for?" (I hate stupid people). I said, "In all honesty it was for Denise but she wasn't home. So you can have it."
I went out to her driveway and shoveled up some slushy stuff then went back inside (sweating my butt off) to sit down and have cat dander stick to my face. After an itchy 20 minutes or so, we packed up. Sarah had to go potty AGAIN so I took her in and waited. She likes to watch herself pee so when she did this today she managed to fill her legs with pee, which then dripped into the Dora seat, and from there all over the big seat and down the front of the toilet. Her pants were soaked, as were her undies. I used wipes to clean everything up, then realized that I had a half-naked kid with no alternative clothing along. Since we were going right home, Leslie got a towel which she wrapped around Sarah's waist. After redoing in the wrapping a couple times, having Sarah freak out about the towel dragging on the ground, and literally stepping out the door, I told Sarah to just hold the towel and run to the car. I turned around to say goodbye again and Leslie was laughing. I turned around to look and there's my little girl -- towel hiked up around her waist, and a cute little baby hinder running its way over to the car. I yelled "Sarah!" She ignored me and kept running. Leslie is laughing even harder. I reached Sarah and said, "Honey you can't run around with your hinder sticking out." She replied, "But I WIKE my HINER thicking out!"
We headed for home. Now, I have to say that while I was traversing around the city I had heard things rolling around in the back of the car. Since there were four 2-liters of soda and two gallons of apple juice back there I assumed something would no longer be upright. I do, however, have a history of things flying out of the back of my car, all facilitated by an inclined driveway -- so I was slightly concerned. (Gallon of milk -- CRASH! Case of soda -- CRASH!, etc.)
Got home, got out the naked girl, who again had to show the 'hood her rear end, and proceeded to get the Hell-Mart stuff out of the back while Sarah continued inside. Opened up the back hatch and BAM! Big freaking jar of Sam's Club Unsweetened Applesauce CRASHES to the concrete driveway. Not only the driveway, but my feet and legs, the back of the car, inside the garage, and down into the little dividing crack between the garage floor and driveway. Applesauce everywhere. Glass had actually flown down the driveway, to both sides of the garage, and under the car. Very impressive. Two bucks literally down the drain. Scooped it up with (OF COURSE) my Pampered Chef scraper thing and proceeded inside, only to find a still-half-naked girl sprawled out on the living room carpeting, butt-side up, playing with her dollhouse. The other jar of applesauce was saved by the bag's handle hooking onto the latch for the back door -- hanging about 3 inches above the ground.
I'm sure this is one of those times I will look back on and laaaaauuuuugh. Right?
Now I knew they were moving stuff around and all that, but I was unprepared for what I found at Hell-Mart this morning. First of all, half the floors have been ripped up and you now get to walk on bare cement. Except at the junctions of where there USED to be a floor and there no longer IS one, is a large bump. Most of them have been ground down to facilitate carts (since people use carts at stores) but every now and then you get to hit a bump which plummets the cart handle into your gut, and throws your un-properly-restrained children across the cart (or, even better, right off the end of the cart!). So in this Hell-Mart there are large open areas of where stuff used to be, and conspicuously-missing large segments of departments. So I walk back to the shoe department, except the shoe department is now the basket department. The shoes are where the girls' clothing used to be. I find what I am looking for (no -- REALLY!) and proceed to look for windshield wipers. The computer told me my car does not exist so I grabbed one that looked good enough.
At about this time of the excursion, I realized that I was somehow getting very consistently shocked by something. Now, being the farm girl that I am, this felt a lot like the electric fences "back on the farm". This means that about every 3-4 seconds a small, sharp "spark" shot through my left hand. I thought maybe it has something to do with Sarah touching me or some other sort of electrostatic connection. But I soon discovered that anywhere I touched the cart while walking caused a shock. So I tried to keep my hands on the plastic covering thing (which Sarah had just fully sneezed on) but no matter where I held onto the cart some part of my hand had to touch the metal. Grrrr.....
Got everything? Head for the checkouts. Now there used to be about 25 checkouts lanes. But today, however, there was a large, half-constructed "hut" sitting where 5-6 of these lanes used to be. So someone was building a building inside of another building. Only half the roof was on it, and half the walls were up, but the detector-alarm panels were already in place.
Found my lane. Once I got there I became overwhelmed with relief that I had not picked up that super-jumbo-size package of scented pantyliners -- for there was a new, extremely attractive guy working in that lane. I looked for an alternative so I would not have to face him with my bedhead and kid-stained lounging clothes, but alas -- with only 7-8 aisles remaining, there were only 3 or 4 open today. I let a lady in a hurry go before me to better prepare for the unavoidably-approaching interaction. Little did I know that she was a "problem customer". (Does this happen to anyone else?)
Lady: "That Littlest Pet Shop toy was on clearance. Why is it ringing up at $10.95?"
Cute Guy:
Lady: "It was on the clearance shelves. It should be marked down."
Rescusing Supervisor (a.k.a. "Red Vest"): "I'm sure it was just placed on the wrong shelf while everything over there was being moved this morning. It's still $10.95."
Lady: "Well that's the normal price. It should be on clearance."
Cute Guy: "When they moved those shelved they must have just set these on the wrong shelving area. I'm sure not all the temporary workers know where everything goes."
Lady: "Well I thought $10.95 was the normal price. I've bought these before and $10.95 sounds pretty typical."
Red Vest and Cute Guy exchange glances. Lady taps her foot on the floor.
Cute Guy:
Red Vest: "It's still $10.95."
Lady: "Well then they shouldn't be on the clearance shelves."
Cute Guy just rang it up and shoved it in the bag while Lady continued to whine.
My turn. Throw everything onto the conveyor belt, double-checking to make sure nothing is weird or embarassing. Apple juice, applesauce, kids' winter coats (ONLY $7!!), 2-liters of soda, windshield wiper. Whew.
Everything gets packed up and I suddenly feel desperate to leave this guy with a good impression (since I was giving Lady death looks previously).
Cute Guy: "Did you find everything ok?"
Me: <<"are you kidding" look>> "You know, Wal-Mart is nightmare on an average day; who would have thought it could be even worse??"
Cute Guy: "Ha. Ha. Ha."
Me: "So push this cart around for a while and see if it shocks YOU every 3-4 seconds."
Cute Guy: "You too?? I thought I was the only one that happened to! Its doesn't happen at any other store!"
See? Now if I hadn't said anything we would not have bonded like this. I packed up and left, making sure to suck in my stomach and swing my rear just a little bit extra. (I am HOTTTTTT!)
Next was n'Joy. Sat there for about 45 minutes before deciding to drop the soda off at Denise's house for her party tonight. Got her a mocha and headed over there. Not home. Of course. So I thought Leslie could use a mocha and went there. I gave her the mocha and she asked, "What is this for?" (I hate stupid people). I said, "In all honesty it was for Denise but she wasn't home. So you can have it."
I went out to her driveway and shoveled up some slushy stuff then went back inside (sweating my butt off) to sit down and have cat dander stick to my face. After an itchy 20 minutes or so, we packed up. Sarah had to go potty AGAIN so I took her in and waited. She likes to watch herself pee so when she did this today she managed to fill her legs with pee, which then dripped into the Dora seat, and from there all over the big seat and down the front of the toilet. Her pants were soaked, as were her undies. I used wipes to clean everything up, then realized that I had a half-naked kid with no alternative clothing along. Since we were going right home, Leslie got a towel which she wrapped around Sarah's waist. After redoing in the wrapping a couple times, having Sarah freak out about the towel dragging on the ground, and literally stepping out the door, I told Sarah to just hold the towel and run to the car. I turned around to say goodbye again and Leslie was laughing. I turned around to look and there's my little girl -- towel hiked up around her waist, and a cute little baby hinder running its way over to the car. I yelled "Sarah!" She ignored me and kept running. Leslie is laughing even harder. I reached Sarah and said, "Honey you can't run around with your hinder sticking out." She replied, "But I WIKE my HINER thicking out!"
We headed for home. Now, I have to say that while I was traversing around the city I had heard things rolling around in the back of the car. Since there were four 2-liters of soda and two gallons of apple juice back there I assumed something would no longer be upright. I do, however, have a history of things flying out of the back of my car, all facilitated by an inclined driveway -- so I was slightly concerned. (Gallon of milk -- CRASH! Case of soda -- CRASH!, etc.)
Got home, got out the naked girl, who again had to show the 'hood her rear end, and proceeded to get the Hell-Mart stuff out of the back while Sarah continued inside. Opened up the back hatch and BAM! Big freaking jar of Sam's Club Unsweetened Applesauce CRASHES to the concrete driveway. Not only the driveway, but my feet and legs, the back of the car, inside the garage, and down into the little dividing crack between the garage floor and driveway. Applesauce everywhere. Glass had actually flown down the driveway, to both sides of the garage, and under the car. Very impressive. Two bucks literally down the drain. Scooped it up with (OF COURSE) my Pampered Chef scraper thing and proceeded inside, only to find a still-half-naked girl sprawled out on the living room carpeting, butt-side up, playing with her dollhouse. The other jar of applesauce was saved by the bag's handle hooking onto the latch for the back door -- hanging about 3 inches above the ground.
I'm sure this is one of those times I will look back on and laaaaauuuuugh. Right?
Monday, March 2, 2009
Birth Control
Several weeks ago I received a phone call from my cousin-in-law regarding my aunt, who had been recently hospitalized. My cousin-in-law and her husband were coming to see her and they had a favor they wanted to ask of me: can I watch their kids while they go to the hospital (as kids are not allowed in the ICU).
Let's pause for a moment. Now, this is a fairly normal, civil question to ask of a close relative. Kids are not a big deal for me. Sometimes (on rare occasions) I even like other people's kids. But I don't think you fully understand yet...
So before she even finished asking me the question, I said, "Absolutely I will watch them." She said that I would be left with the three older ones, and she would hopefully be able to take the baby with her as she was still nursing. No problem. We have plenty of toys and plenty of things to do. Then we began discussing the baby. She thought a little more about it and determined that maybe I should keep the baby as well, just to avoid ultimately arguing with the hospital people. I had earlier offered to keep the baby so this was also not a problem for me. I really had nothing to do all day and could spend some time playing with the kids for a change.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Let's first talk demographics. Paige and Mia are 3 1/2 year old twins. Cece is just 2. Lexi is 3 months old. Then I had Sarah (3) and Benjamin (6) when he got home from school. Sounds cute, right? Five adorable little girls? Well "cuteness" is just one aspect I had to keep in mind. The other ones were things like the "5 against 1 mentality", you can't be in five places at once, and 5 kids eat more (and spill more) than 1 or 2.
Michele had a few informational things for me, including disciplinary methods, what the kids would eat, and the fact that Cece was potty-trained for the most part (she didn't like to poop in the potty chair, but pee-pee was no problem). Good. Then she began the warnings. The only one that really sticks out in my head was "Cece likes to poop in her pants but she has been better the past few days". Good, again. She tossed a bag of snack food items on the table (to include mostly organic items) and left.
Let the games begin.
The girls were dropped off at 1. The intial "fear factor" was evident, but we have lots of little girl toys so they soon adapted to playing with everything. Things went rather smoothly until Lexi decided she was hungry.
OMG.
The four older girls were fine, but Lexi screamed her bloody head off from about 1:15 until Michele's reappearance at 5:30ish. Seriously -- the girl did not stop crying/whimpering/whining the entire time -- EXCEPT for when she mericifully passed out for a short time. I ate "stone soup" that the girls had made, I drank chocolate milk and root beer from play baby bottles, I put barrettes in hair, put more barrettes in hair, wiped little girl hinders, read books, and basically just supervised while walking around with Miss High Maintenance. Now keep in mind that this is naptime -- and not just for me! I figured there was no way I would get four little girls to take a nap so I settled for a little "downtime" instead. I had set the older girls up in the living room watching a movie. I sat in the recliner with Lexi and she finally dozed off. Well, so did I. I vaguely recall Benjamin coming home from school at about 4. He played with the girls for a while, then everyone got settled back on the couch in front of the movie. Benjamin eventually asked me for a snack and I told him he could have some "colored cereal" (generic Froot Loops). Back to sleep for me.
I was vaguely aware of what was going on around me, not really waking up unless there was a fight breaking out or some sort of crying-type noise. Benjamin seemed to relish the role of being the "older brother" to four girls who apparently idiolized him, so he had things pretty much under control. I heard something crinkling at some point, assumed it to be the cereal bag, and decided I should see where this bag was ending up (you know, all that cereal "dust" at the bottom of the bag? ARGH.). And this is what I saw upon opening my eyes.
There in the middle of the living room was the little Dora table with matching chairs. Some sort of animated movie was playing. The five kids were surrounding the table, blocking from my view what they had on the table. Then, one little face turned toward me and I saw it: two SIZEABLE bowls overflowing with cereal and ten little hands SHOVELING it in the five faces as FAST as they possibly could. Seriously -- I have never seen such dedicated eaters. The cereal was packed in their cheeks and falling out all over the floor. Then, in the desperate attempt to shovel MORE into their faces, they were fighting for the best grabbing position at the table and grinding the cereal into the carpeting. It was sort of like watching some movie on Africa and seeing the zebras, warthogs, lions, or whatever fighting over the waterhole. There was climbing. There was shrieking. There was violence. Eerily similar.
I jumped up from the chair (of course waking up that darn baby again) and broke it up. The kids started grabbing their last fistfuls and spread out through the house. The cereal bag was actually still in the kitchen (albeit split all the way down one side -- I HATE that) but it now contained about 1 1/2 cups of cereal, down from about 8 cups earlier in the day. I was amazed.
So, let's summarize: cereal mashed into the living room carpeting, cereal scattered throughout the house, a screaming baby, five little kids hiding in one closet, and the phone was probably ringing too. I rounded up the kids and got them all on the couch. I then proceeded to lecture Benjamin on why you don't feed four little girls mounds of sugar just before supper.
They all nodded in understanding and got back to their movie. About a half hour later the movie was over the kids were all playing together in Sarah's room. I heard a little voice say, "You smell poopy." And another, "Cece you smell like poopy." And another, "Cece, do you have a poopy butt?" Then the announcer, "MOM! CECE POOPED IN HER PANTS!" I went to scope out the situation. Five little pairs of cute baby eyes looking up at me. "Cece," I said. "Did you poop in your pants?" She shook her head "no". I turned her around and noticed a sizeable bulge near her poop-producing region. Excellent.
Off to the bathroom. Michele had told me that if Cece pooped in her pants (which she was sure she wouldn't do -- hahahahaha) I should make her clean it up herself. While this might be a great idea for long-term discouragment of the pants-pooping behavior, I really didn't want poop all over my bathroom or all over the little girl who produced the poop. But I tried to honor the poop-wiping request, thankful that it was dry poop and not wet poop. I took off her pants (only minorly poopy) and socks (potty only) and put the little girl into the bathtub. She got a little panicked and began shaking her head and saying, "Me no need bath! Me no need bath! Me no need bath!" Assuming this was somehow a traumatic thing for her, I took advantage of the fear and told her that if she didn't poop in her pants anymore then she wouldn't have to take a bath. She nodded her understanding and looked pretty close to tears. I gave her a wipe and she began wiping at the poop. I don't know how this works at Michele's house, but Cece was getting poop EVERYWHERE. The wipe merely served as a spreading tool. Poop on the bathtub. Poop on her legs. Poop on the shower curtain. Poop on the bathroom rug. Poop on her stomach. Poop on her hands. No poop on the wipe. Enough of that. I cleaner her up and we had a long discussion about why pooping in your pants is a bad thing. She nodded her thorough understanding and I got her dressed in new clothes and off with the rest of them. I joyfully scrubbed the poopy clothes and tossed them in a Pig bag.
Michele called. They were getting ready to start leaving the hospital (about 20 minutes away) and should she pick up pizza on the way here? Absolutely, that would be great. I will turn the oven on. She tentatively asked me how everything was going. I strained a little laugh and simply said, "Well, I haven't been able to put Lexi down this entire time." She turned from the phone to report that to everyone in the room (yeah, they laughed). Then I told her that Cece has blessed me with a little surprise as well. Ha ha ha. Anyway, I didn't realize that Michele, Zander, AND four other people were coming. Everyone arrived at basically the same time, and Michele walks in with ONE pizza. (I still don't understand how she thought one pizza would feed 6 adults and 6 kids.) I figured I could use the weight loss anyway so I just let it go. Pizza done, kids ate, and we began the cleaning up process.
Now I am a pretty anal picker-upper. Everything has a place and should end up in at least ROUGHLY the place it belongs. There would be none of that on this day, however. Michele and my cousin Suzie came to the rescue and just started throwing things into bins until everything was out of sight. I popped a Xanax or two and tried to remember that everything was at least picked up and could be sorted later.
The rest of the story doesn't get very exciting. Everyone packed up and left at around 7. I sat there in a daze. We had ice cream and went to bed by about 8.
I truly did not have a problem with watching the kids. Really, I didn't. It just made me realize that I didn't want five kids under the age of 4 at any one point in my life. I also told her that I would do it again at any time! What can I say? I love my cousin!
Let's pause for a moment. Now, this is a fairly normal, civil question to ask of a close relative. Kids are not a big deal for me. Sometimes (on rare occasions) I even like other people's kids. But I don't think you fully understand yet...
So before she even finished asking me the question, I said, "Absolutely I will watch them." She said that I would be left with the three older ones, and she would hopefully be able to take the baby with her as she was still nursing. No problem. We have plenty of toys and plenty of things to do. Then we began discussing the baby. She thought a little more about it and determined that maybe I should keep the baby as well, just to avoid ultimately arguing with the hospital people. I had earlier offered to keep the baby so this was also not a problem for me. I really had nothing to do all day and could spend some time playing with the kids for a change.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Let's first talk demographics. Paige and Mia are 3 1/2 year old twins. Cece is just 2. Lexi is 3 months old. Then I had Sarah (3) and Benjamin (6) when he got home from school. Sounds cute, right? Five adorable little girls? Well "cuteness" is just one aspect I had to keep in mind. The other ones were things like the "5 against 1 mentality", you can't be in five places at once, and 5 kids eat more (and spill more) than 1 or 2.
Michele had a few informational things for me, including disciplinary methods, what the kids would eat, and the fact that Cece was potty-trained for the most part (she didn't like to poop in the potty chair, but pee-pee was no problem). Good. Then she began the warnings. The only one that really sticks out in my head was "Cece likes to poop in her pants but she has been better the past few days". Good, again. She tossed a bag of snack food items on the table (to include mostly organic items) and left.
Let the games begin.
The girls were dropped off at 1. The intial "fear factor" was evident, but we have lots of little girl toys so they soon adapted to playing with everything. Things went rather smoothly until Lexi decided she was hungry.
OMG.
The four older girls were fine, but Lexi screamed her bloody head off from about 1:15 until Michele's reappearance at 5:30ish. Seriously -- the girl did not stop crying/whimpering/whining the entire time -- EXCEPT for when she mericifully passed out for a short time. I ate "stone soup" that the girls had made, I drank chocolate milk and root beer from play baby bottles, I put barrettes in hair, put more barrettes in hair, wiped little girl hinders, read books, and basically just supervised while walking around with Miss High Maintenance. Now keep in mind that this is naptime -- and not just for me! I figured there was no way I would get four little girls to take a nap so I settled for a little "downtime" instead. I had set the older girls up in the living room watching a movie. I sat in the recliner with Lexi and she finally dozed off. Well, so did I. I vaguely recall Benjamin coming home from school at about 4. He played with the girls for a while, then everyone got settled back on the couch in front of the movie. Benjamin eventually asked me for a snack and I told him he could have some "colored cereal" (generic Froot Loops). Back to sleep for me.
I was vaguely aware of what was going on around me, not really waking up unless there was a fight breaking out or some sort of crying-type noise. Benjamin seemed to relish the role of being the "older brother" to four girls who apparently idiolized him, so he had things pretty much under control. I heard something crinkling at some point, assumed it to be the cereal bag, and decided I should see where this bag was ending up (you know, all that cereal "dust" at the bottom of the bag? ARGH.). And this is what I saw upon opening my eyes.
There in the middle of the living room was the little Dora table with matching chairs. Some sort of animated movie was playing. The five kids were surrounding the table, blocking from my view what they had on the table. Then, one little face turned toward me and I saw it: two SIZEABLE bowls overflowing with cereal and ten little hands SHOVELING it in the five faces as FAST as they possibly could. Seriously -- I have never seen such dedicated eaters. The cereal was packed in their cheeks and falling out all over the floor. Then, in the desperate attempt to shovel MORE into their faces, they were fighting for the best grabbing position at the table and grinding the cereal into the carpeting. It was sort of like watching some movie on Africa and seeing the zebras, warthogs, lions, or whatever fighting over the waterhole. There was climbing. There was shrieking. There was violence. Eerily similar.
I jumped up from the chair (of course waking up that darn baby again) and broke it up. The kids started grabbing their last fistfuls and spread out through the house. The cereal bag was actually still in the kitchen (albeit split all the way down one side -- I HATE that) but it now contained about 1 1/2 cups of cereal, down from about 8 cups earlier in the day. I was amazed.
So, let's summarize: cereal mashed into the living room carpeting, cereal scattered throughout the house, a screaming baby, five little kids hiding in one closet, and the phone was probably ringing too. I rounded up the kids and got them all on the couch. I then proceeded to lecture Benjamin on why you don't feed four little girls mounds of sugar just before supper.
They all nodded in understanding and got back to their movie. About a half hour later the movie was over the kids were all playing together in Sarah's room. I heard a little voice say, "You smell poopy." And another, "Cece you smell like poopy." And another, "Cece, do you have a poopy butt?" Then the announcer, "MOM! CECE POOPED IN HER PANTS!" I went to scope out the situation. Five little pairs of cute baby eyes looking up at me. "Cece," I said. "Did you poop in your pants?" She shook her head "no". I turned her around and noticed a sizeable bulge near her poop-producing region. Excellent.
Off to the bathroom. Michele had told me that if Cece pooped in her pants (which she was sure she wouldn't do -- hahahahaha) I should make her clean it up herself. While this might be a great idea for long-term discouragment of the pants-pooping behavior, I really didn't want poop all over my bathroom or all over the little girl who produced the poop. But I tried to honor the poop-wiping request, thankful that it was dry poop and not wet poop. I took off her pants (only minorly poopy) and socks (potty only) and put the little girl into the bathtub. She got a little panicked and began shaking her head and saying, "Me no need bath! Me no need bath! Me no need bath!" Assuming this was somehow a traumatic thing for her, I took advantage of the fear and told her that if she didn't poop in her pants anymore then she wouldn't have to take a bath. She nodded her understanding and looked pretty close to tears. I gave her a wipe and she began wiping at the poop. I don't know how this works at Michele's house, but Cece was getting poop EVERYWHERE. The wipe merely served as a spreading tool. Poop on the bathtub. Poop on her legs. Poop on the shower curtain. Poop on the bathroom rug. Poop on her stomach. Poop on her hands. No poop on the wipe. Enough of that. I cleaner her up and we had a long discussion about why pooping in your pants is a bad thing. She nodded her thorough understanding and I got her dressed in new clothes and off with the rest of them. I joyfully scrubbed the poopy clothes and tossed them in a Pig bag.
Michele called. They were getting ready to start leaving the hospital (about 20 minutes away) and should she pick up pizza on the way here? Absolutely, that would be great. I will turn the oven on. She tentatively asked me how everything was going. I strained a little laugh and simply said, "Well, I haven't been able to put Lexi down this entire time." She turned from the phone to report that to everyone in the room (yeah, they laughed). Then I told her that Cece has blessed me with a little surprise as well. Ha ha ha. Anyway, I didn't realize that Michele, Zander, AND four other people were coming. Everyone arrived at basically the same time, and Michele walks in with ONE pizza. (I still don't understand how she thought one pizza would feed 6 adults and 6 kids.) I figured I could use the weight loss anyway so I just let it go. Pizza done, kids ate, and we began the cleaning up process.
Now I am a pretty anal picker-upper. Everything has a place and should end up in at least ROUGHLY the place it belongs. There would be none of that on this day, however. Michele and my cousin Suzie came to the rescue and just started throwing things into bins until everything was out of sight. I popped a Xanax or two and tried to remember that everything was at least picked up and could be sorted later.
The rest of the story doesn't get very exciting. Everyone packed up and left at around 7. I sat there in a daze. We had ice cream and went to bed by about 8.
I truly did not have a problem with watching the kids. Really, I didn't. It just made me realize that I didn't want five kids under the age of 4 at any one point in my life. I also told her that I would do it again at any time! What can I say? I love my cousin!
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