Jovie's Mess

When we potty train our kids we keep a kiddie toilet in the living room. It just helps until they are more sure of themselves.

I know, I know....

Lesson 141: toilet in the living room = white trash

Jovie has finally become a potty-pro, and we gladly put the toilet back upstairs. (Until it's Stone's turn.) Now, in the bathroom, there is a big toilet with a little potty next to it. Then, there is also a training potty in Jovie's room, in case she needs it in the night.

Today, Jovie called to me from upstairs, "Mom, I pooped!" When I got there, I realized she isn't exactly the pro I thought she was. There was a little bit in the big potty, and some in the kid pot. "Jovie!" I yelled, as I answered my ringing phone. It was Adam's business partner. She needed to talk to me about the books for the restaurant.

As I talked to Lisa, Jovie yelled, "Don't forget this one Mom." Trying to give Lisa as much attention as I could, I went to see what my lovely daughter was talking about. When I got to her room, I found she had also made a deposit in that toilet.

"Well, I'll let you go," Lisa said. She could probably tell I wasn't able to talk about the books at that moment.

"Thanks. I have to clean Jovie's mess."

"What did she do now?"

"Pooped in three different toilets," I sighed.

Lisa laughed, "Wow. That girl needs to get her s*** together. Literally!"

Aha! The Truth Comes Out.

I gained more weight with the twins than I normally do with a pregnancy, which isn't surprisng, but after they were born I've heard nothing but good things about the way I look. "You don't look like you've even had a baby, let alone 8," or, "If I looked that good after giving birth to twins, then I'd have some babies," etc.

These comments make me feel good, but I see what my body actually looks like. I do own a mirror people! Not to mention, I went to buy jeans the other day and I bought a size I'd rather not discuss.

Well, the jig is up! If you ever want to know the truth, ask an 8 year old with autism. Jagger doesn't have the capacity to tell flattering white lies. So, when he burst into the bathroom, when I was changing into my jammie pants, and said, "Ew," I knew I was finally going to know the truth.

"What do you mean ew?" I gave him the stink eye.

He looked at my bottom half with disgust, "What happened to you?"

"What do you mean?" I asked again.

He walked over and grabbed a handful of thigh fat, giving it a jiggle, "Uh, well, you got kinda big."

*sigh* "Jagger, don't tell women they're fat, it'll make them cry." He just shrugged and scampered away. I guess the sight of me scared whatever it was he wanted to ask me when he barged in.

Lesson 140: son jiggling unflattering leg fat and letting you know you've let yourself go = a flabby-butt white trash mom who desperately needs to go to the gym

Stone's First Joke

I love when my kids get old enough to have a sense of humor. God and laughter is what keeps this family going.

Jovie has been telling jokes for a while now, always knock-knock jokes, and they always end with some sort of potato hybrid. You know those kind of jokes...."Who's there?"...."Potato-banana with peanut butter!"

On Friday, I took Jovie, Stone, and the twins to pick up Marky. On the way back, Jovie decided to head up her own little comedy tour. She sat in the back for about a half an hour telling a new line of jokes. The punch line came immediately after the "Who's there". Can you detect a theme?

Jovie: "Knock-knock."
Me: "Who's there?"
Jovie: "Poopy diaper!" (laughter)

Jovie: "Knock-knock"
Me: "Who's there?"
Jovie: "Mommy has a poop face!" (hysterical laughter)

After several of those jokes, I hear Stone's little deep voice chant, "Mom....Mom.....Mom." Just so you know, Stone isn't a man of many words. He's had speech therapy for months, because he doesn't feel the need to speak. So, I wanted to make a point to let him know that what he had to say was important.

Stone: "Mom.....Mom...."
Me: "Yes Stone?"
Stone:........"POOP!" (proud laughter)
Me: *sigh* "Good one Stone."

Lesson 139: the whole content of your child's first joke being nothing more than the word POOP = white trash

Dirty Work

Tonight, as I got the twins ready for bed, I could tell Rex was brewing something. He kept crying and pulling his legs up, a tell-tale sign of gas. As they both ate their nightime snack, I could tell the time was close. Rex bore down, grunted, and poop shot out......of Fox's butt.

Uh. I've heard that twins have close connections, but that was just plain bizarre.

Lesson 138: making your twin do your "dirty work" = white trash

Ice

We don't take the kids out to eat. It just doesn't happen. Every once in a blue moon we'll go through the McDonalds drive thru. Today was one of those days. We have no food and I wasn't taking 7 kids to the grocery store by myself. That is a cruel form of punishment.

The kids all got Happy Meals, of course. I did break down and let them get rootbeer. (Soda is another rarity. Do you blame me?) When we got home, the kids set up a little picnic on the living room floor. Jet, super excited about the rootbeer, stuck the straw in his cup and began to drink. After a few sips, he made a little face, then shook the cup. His eyes lit up. "Wow guys!" he exclaimed, "This rootbeer comes with ice! This is awesome!"

It's the little things. :)

Lesson  137: kids thinking ice in your drink is a luxurious treat = white trash

Hair

Adam surprised me today with a girls day out with his business partner, Lisa. In a few hours I will be leaving (without kids!) to go get my hair done with a female who doesn't whine and cry for stuffed animals and fruit snacks.

My hair has gotten quite long. It hasn't seen a pair of scissors since December 2009. My head has the only hair in the house that requires a professional. Jovie has never had her hair cut, and I am responsible for all the male hair disasters in our family. In my own defense, I am extrememly tired of cutting hair after the 3rd person, and I always have 2 more heads of hair to cut.

When I heard about my surprise I tried to recall the last time I went to the salon. It was my 30th birthday, and I was pregnant with Stone. That's when I realized the sad truth.....

Lesson 136: having more babies than hair cuts = white trash

In a two year time span, I have gotten my hair cut once, and I have given birth to 3 babies! Yikes! I'm hoping the ratio changes a little. My new goal for the next two years is to get my hair cut 3 times and only give birth to 1 baby. Haha!

Poor Daddy

Christmas is hard on a family of 10, especially one living on a lone chef's income. The kids aren't ever disappointed, and I really didn't think they paid any attention to what was wrapped in Adam's and my stockings.

Have you seen the new Walmart commercial where the dad runs his kids over trying to get to the presents on Christmas morning? If you haven't, the dad gets a new tv and exclaims, "I wonder how it fit down the chimney!"

This commercial played the other night while Jet, Jude, and I watched Wheel of Fortune. After it aired, Jude looked at me and asked, "What happened?" I was puzzled, but answered, "That daddy got a tv for Christmas." Jude became quite sober and said, "Wow, that dad is really lucky. Our Dad only gets socks and underwear for Christmas."

Lesson 135: kids being depressed for you because your Christmas presents are nothing more than the necessities you neglected yourself of throughout the year = white trash

I didn't know our kids gave much thought to what we got. Maybe that's why they never complain about the small amount of gifts they get under the tree. They realize it could be much worse. They could be poor Daddy.