A Diaper Cream Disaster

We have a cabinet in our family room that is full of games and puzzles for the kids.

Today Sam and Isaac reminded me that in the very, very back hidden behind everything else there is a basket of things left over from their baby days including diaper cream, Vaseline and calamine lotion.

Exactly how did they remind me, you ask?

Like this:

Sam and Isaac are a little too proud of their mess.

I totally blew this one. I'm usually tough as nails, but this one made me laugh. I tried not to. God knows I tried!

The boys caught me and immediately said, "It's funny, Mom!"

I told them they looked funny, but what they did was not funny.

They didn't buy it. All they remembered is that I laughed. I ask you: How could I not?

We were 10 minutes away from loading up to go to gymnastics, and cleaning a half inch of diaper cream off anything is no piece of cake.

Since there was no way around taking these two clowns smelling of diaper cream and with pasty hair, we stopped for a little interview. You'll hear Amelia in the background suggesting a bath and a babysitter. She is so helpful!



It was vaguely reminiscent of the baby powder explosion that marked Thanksgiving of 2009. But that was a LOT easier to clean up.

© Trippin' Mama 2012

Of Sister Alexius and Socks

Tonight I was folding four loads of laundry all at once, and tossing socks into a giant heap to be dealt with last.

Seriously, I do not need variety in the socks I buy for my kids. I do not want two or three different styles in one package. Make them all white with grey heels and toes. Don't make some white with grey stripes on the top and some without. And for Pete's sake, don't toss two variations on the white with navy theme into the mix. I'll never make that mistake again.

Anyway, back to the point.

When I turned to tackle the mound of socks waiting to be paired up, I couldn't help but think about my great aunt, Sister Alexius.

Sister Alexius was my dad's aunt, and she was in a convent a couple hours away from the town I grew up in. A few times a year, she'd hop on the bus and come visit us.

Whenever Sister Alexius came she always wanted to help in some way, so my mom always had her pair and fold socks. So she would sit at the table with a giant laundry basket full to the top with socks (remember, there were eight kids in my family) and fold them for a couple of hours while she visited with my mom and us kids. It was a good way to keep her busy and out of the way at the same time.

That was the only time our socks were ever paired up and folded. Ever.

My mom would just pull all of the socks out of the dryer and toss them in that laundry basket, which we creatively referred to as the Sock Basket, in the back hall. When we needed socks we went to the basket and dug out two that matched.

This is further evidence that my mom is a genius. Think of all the time she saved!

Of course, we were always free to pair and fold our own socks, and we always did Dad's dress socks. He needed the help, since he's blue-black color blind. Otherwise, we had to wait for Sister Alexius to visit.

I wonder if she ever realized that her special job of pairing and folding socks was a job no one else in the house ever did?

No matter. The thought of it put a smile on my face tonight as I dealt with my own pile of socks.

And it made me vow to install a Sock Basket as soon as possible.

© Trippin' Mama 2012

A Little Bit of Random

We are in the midst of a major fruit fly infestation. I think the homemade traps are finally doing their job. I Googled "fruit fly infestation," because really, that's the kind of thing the Internet does best.

I found a whole bunch of suggestions, including homemade traps that involve a piece of banana, a plastic cup a rubber band, and plastic wrap with tiny holes poked in it. Jeff was a little skeptical, and I did help the process along with a lot of swatting, but I think we're finally almost fruit fly free.

****

After much searching, I finally found something for the boys to wear to the big wedding in a few weeks. It was so frustrating! I didn't want to spend a fortune, and every place I looked didn't have the right sizes for all three boys. Even online I couldn't find three pairs of black pants and three white dress shirts in the right sizes for anything less than a small fortune.

Then I wound up at Sears.com. They had four-piece vest sets: vest, dress pants, dress shirt and tie on clearance for $14 with free shipping. And they had the sizes I needed. Yay, yay and yay! Thank heavens when everything arrived, it fit.

The boys were very excited to try on their "handsome man" clothes, and disappointed that it wasn't time to go to the wedding yet. I hope they are that excited on the wedding day when it's time for pictures.

****

Recently I was snuggling with Amelia at bedtime when she gave me a big hug and said, "I wish you were my twin, Mom." So sweet!

****

The other day I took the kids to the park for some playtime and a picnic.

When I mentioned the picnic Amelia told me, "We're having a party, Mom!"

I smiled. And then she added, "You can come along, since you're the one who drives."

*sigh*

Still not one of the cool kids. They just keep me around for my driver's license. Good thing she was so sweet about the twin thing!

****

The other day one of the boys had a little issue with his winky when he was sitting on the potty. (Just think about it, you know what I mean.) He looked down in surprise, then said, "My winky is broken!" Then he added, very matter-of-factly, "I need a new one."

****

The other day Sam asked for "Santa crackers." Jeff and I looked at each other. What? He insisted on "Santa crackers." Turns out he was talking about the Keebler elf on the graham cracker box. Ohhhh! Santa crackers! Of course!

****

And now I'm off to bed to see if another good night's sleep can squelch this cold and cough. I'm on Day 9 and I'd sure like to be healthy for the Fourth!

© Trippin' Mama 2011

Nearly Defeated by Shapewear

Saturday morning I went to Pilates for an hour. It seemed like a great idea at the time.

Then I chased my kids around the park, enjoyed a picnic and went for a hike with them and Jeff. In the middle of the hike I realized that should it be necessary for me to carry my children out of the woods we were going to be in BIG trouble. I had all I could do to propel myself forward, let alone carry one (or more!) of the kids.

After our hike I bought flowers to plant and heaved two 50-pound bags of new sand for the sandbox onto my cart and then into the van.

Um. Ouch. On top of ouch.

Saturday evening Jeff and I went out on a date. (Yay!) I decided to wear a shapewear tank. It takes care of the little bulges that Pilates hasn't conquered yet, and I wanted to look nice.

Oh, the price of vanity!

The tank is quite comfortable, but I paid the price when I tried to take it off.

I could barely lift my arms over my head, let alone stretch the tank enough to get it over my shoulders and head and off my body. This, unfortunately, became apparent when I had the tank about halfway off. In other words, about the time it was wrapped around my head and had neatly pinned my arms overhead.

To pull the tank up or down required that I stretch it with my arms. My arms that had suffered through a few too many similar stretch and pull motions in Pilates class early that morning.

Just about the time I thought I was going to have to cave and ask Jeff to extricate me from the results of my vanity, I managed to wiggle my way out. I may have possibly dislocated a shoulder in the process, but at least I didn't have to WAKE my husband and give him a story to tell for all eternity.

Who knew that working out and shapewear could be such a dangerous combination? Consider yourself warned. 

© Trippin' Mama 2011

Calling Miss Clairol

Every night after I put the kids in bed I breathe a sigh of relief and say a prayer of thanksgiving that we made it through another day.

Every day these smart, curious children do something that makes my hair turn a little grayer, if not stand straight on end.

Here are a few things from the last week that have me calling for Miss Clairol (and praying, a LOT):

1. Sam: "Please we see the fire again."

2. Isaac from the top of the swingset: "This isn't very high. I can jump."

3. Alex, handing me the toilet brush holder: "I drink water from that cup!"

4. Amelia: "I need a prince to kiss me."

5.The boys upon watching workers on scaffolding around a multi-story building: "We need helmets."

Me: "So you can build?"

Boys: "So we can climb!"

6. Jeff: "I'll be home late from work on Monday."

While I'm busy covering the gray, maybe I should take a cue from Sam and become a redhead!

© Trippin' Mama 2011

The Adventures of Potty Boy, The Bandit And Mr. Footprint

Once again, names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent.

We are in the worst stage of potty training. Also known as the "Please, please Mommy is begging you to poop in the potty" phase. I've changed enough poopy underwear to last me several lifetimes.

Since the boys are pretty predictable, I've been putting them on the potty about the time they usually do the deed and trying to keep them there for 5-10 minutes so they can go in the potty. It reminds me a lot of the early days of potty training.

Unfortunately, the boys have the run of the house now and are into a lot more things than they were in the early days. Which means that the other two get into a lot more trouble when I'm in the bathroom doing tricks to keep someone occupied long enough to do the deed.

Which brings us to what happened the other day...

After 15 minutes on the potty and no results, I put a certain boy in undies and sent him on his way. Not two minutes later I glanced over to see he had "the face." I grabbed him and raced to the potty saying, "Don't poop, don't poop, don't poop! Let's poop in the potty!" When I got him there, he had the job partly done, so I put him on the potty and encouraged him to finish on the potty. (Please, please, I'm begging you!)

About that time I heard major commotion from outside the bathroom, so I told Potty Boy to stay on the potty and stepped out to see what was going on. It took me a couple minutes to break up the fight.

When I returned to the bathroom I found Potty Boy was no longer on the potty. And what should have been in the potty was everywhere. There was poop on the potty seat, on the wall, on the bath mat, on the tub, on the stool, and on the sink. There was poop everywhere except where it belonged.

AAAARRRRGH!

I grabbed for the poopy-bottomed, poopy-handed boy and started to clean him up. Then I realized that he had also unrolled the entire roll of toilet paper and put it in the potty.

That's when I heard a crash and laughing from the kitchen. I grabbed the now-clean, but bare-bottomed boy and put him in his crib for a time-out. When I came out of his room I found one of his brothers walking down the hallway chugging half and half straight from the carton. The carton that had been in the fridge.

AAAARRRRGH!

I took the carton away, grabbed the Half and Half Bandit by the hand and followed the trail of liquid back to the kitchen.

Turns out that the safety latch on the fridge had finally given out under excessive pressure. Sloppy joe meat and a trail of tomato-sauce footprints covered the floor.

AAAARRRRGH!

I hollered for a time out and the culprits sat immediately. Which was convenient, since I needed to clean Mr. Footprint's feet.

I told them to STAY RIGHT THERE while I cleaned up the worst of the kitchen floor and got Potty Boy out of his crib.

I sat all three boys on the floor and was about to deliver a stern lecturing about listening to Mommy, not opening the refrigerator, and a few other things when the Half and Half Bandit looked up at me and grinned.

"That was YUMMY, Mommy!"

 And I was forced to send them off to play before they saw me laugh.

© Trippin' Mama 2011

Warning: Helmets May Be Required

A couple weeks ago I heard the boys giggling and giggling as I unloaded the dishwasher, so I went to check it out. They were all sitting side-by-side on one of their little couches doing this:

Further proof that we should wear our bike helmets at ALL times...

Sam and Alex

Isaac

...even when we're hanging out in our jammies!

© Trippin' Mama 2010

He Gets That From YOUR Side Of The Family

Isaac was cracking us up the other day when the boys were having their noisy fun. We laughed and laughed, and then we started pointing fingers at each other. "He must get that from YOUR side of the family!

No matter where Isaac gets it from, (His daddy! It's MY blog!) this is just further evidence that the children should wear their bicycle helmets at ALL times!

© Trippin' Mama 2010

Another Rodent Trauma!

Today I did this:

Multiply by almost an acre. I ended up with 30ish bags of leaves. Each one representing roughly 287 square feet of leaves, give or take a bajillion leaves.

I am pooped!

I have been taking advantage of the unseasonably warm weather this week to get the kids out in the yard and do the raking a little at a time. I was counting on a nice Saturday so the WBH could help finish the job.

But it's supposed to rain tomorrow, so I powered through it by myself today.

Of course, sacrifices had to be made. I threw the kids a jar of peanut butter and a loaf of bread for lunch. They are two and four. I figured they could take care of themselves.

Anyway, I tried to think good thoughts about what a great yard we have and how much we appreciated all those shade trees during the heat of the summer.

But by naptime I was running out of positive energy.

And that's when the rodent trauma happened.

I'm starting to think they have it in for me. First it was the dying mouse I mistook for a dust bunny and nearly picked up. Then there was the epic battle Jeff and I did with a bat in our first home. That's a story worth telling! It involves accusations of delusion, duct tape, a hungry neighborhood cat and a plea for mercy. That'll keep you coming back, won't it? I promise to share that story soon.

Anyway, today's rodent trauma looked like this:

It's a squirrel, I think. It was dead. At the bottom of a leaf pile. The remnants of which I was scooping up with my bare hands. I almost picked it up, but at the last second I realized what it was. I leapt back and stifled a scream while doing the heebie-jeebie dance.

Then I put on my big girl panties and scooped the thing onto a shovel and disposed of it. To be honest, I was sure if I left it there the boys would find it and play with it.

I should get MAJOR credit for finishing the second half of the yard after this trauma. After all, I'm still using the mouse incident as an excuse not to pick up dust bunnies, and that was 16 years ago. Who could blame me if I never picked up another leaf again?

© Trippin' Mama 2010

Celebrate Like A Two-Year-Old

You're seeing lots of videos lately because the boys are just so funny right now and talking a blue streak. We know we need to catch this stage before it's gone for good.

We captured this video on the boys' birthday. It really is a glimpse of life with multiples: Whatever one does, another one (or two!) quickly follows. And things that are funny when one kid does it, can become downright hilarious when the others join in! 

I guess it goes to show that you can do what you want on your special day!

© Trippin' Mama 2010

The Minivan Mama

When we bought the world's sexiest minivan I had no idea the effect it would have on other drivers.

Specifically, drivers under 26 and men. Especially men under 26.

Most of them can't stand to have a minivan pass them. Ever.

I've seen 18-year-olds driving falling-apart Hondas that are older than they are floor it in a desperate attempt to avoid eating my dust. And you should see the effort they put in once they see that I have a triple stroller strapped to the back. NASCAR's got nothing on these guys!

But the guy in the SmartCar? C'mon, buddy! You bought half a car. What did you expect? In most countries they call that thing a rickshaw.

I might drive a minivan, but at least my vehicle came with an engine.

© Trippin' Mama 2010

How About Three More, Mom?

The other day I took the boys to pick Amelia up at "summer camp" as we call it now that school is out. She'd had a great day and was telling me all about her field trip.

When we got to the van she greeted all the boys with a hug and a kiss. Then she looked at them and said, "Mom, I wish we had three girls."

I thought I understood.

"Instead of three boys?" I empathized.

"No," Amelia said.

My voice rose at least an octave. "In addition to the boys?" I said.

"Yes!" said Amelia enthusiatically.

"Oh, honey, I don't think Mommy will be having another set of triplets. Sorry."

"But Mom, I need a sister!" Amelia wailed.

"Well that's just one baby honey."

Amelia pouted. "No, I need three."

At that point I wisely gave up the conversation. And pondered just how much we've warped Amelia's view of the world.

© Trippin' Mama 2010

Monkey See, Monkey Do

Children are excellent mimics. The emulate our actions and words, both good and bad. It never fails to make me laugh when Amelia or the boys imitate Jeff or me. Well, almost never anyway. They do occasionally pick the wrong thing to mimic. Oops. Surely they got that from television?
One day as Amelia and I were driving home we had to slow way down to squeeze between cars that were parked practically in the street near a neighbor's garage sale. Suddenly Amelia said, in perfect imitation of her father: "Really people?" Her intonation was perfect. I laughed out loud.

Recently the boys have started picking up anything with a handle--buckets, toys, trucks--and putting them on their arms while telling us goodbye. The sneaky little devils often employ this technique outside when they want to head off somewhere they know they aren't supposed to go. Hey, being all cute and saying goodbye doesn't make that OK, mister!

 Here's Isaac heading out with his truck just last week:



Since Jeff doesn't carry a purse, this is proof that I do get out of the house once in a while!

© Trippin' Mama 2010

Wordful Wednesday: There Goes My Good Name

Now that the weather is nice we're almost always playing outside when Daddy comes home. So when we go out after nap the boys know Daddy will be there soon. Every time a car goes by they all yell, "Daddy!"

I spend a lot of time saying, "No, that's not Daddy," because apparently we can't yet distinguish the differences between vehicles.

Alex, Isaac and Sam take a break on the driveway.

 

This led to an awkward situation the other day when our regular mailman was gone. We had a substitute, and he sat in his truck right across the street from our driveway for about 20 minutes, probably sorting mail since he was unfamiliar with the route.

My boys spent the ENTIRE 20 minutes pointing at the mail truck and yelling, "Daddy!"

Quiet boys. You'll ruin Mommy's reputation.

Play along with Wordful Wednesday at:

© Trippin' Mama 2010

Look, Mom!

Amelia had a bottle of water in the van today when we were running errands. Suddenly she says, "Mom, can I put water in my mouth and then spit it out like a sprinkler?"

What?!

"No, not in the van, but thank you for asking first. You can do it when we get home."

When I asked Amelia where she got that idea she responded, "Out of my head."

OK, girl, that does worry me a little. Who knows what you'll think up next!

As soon as we got home Amelia was out of the van "sprinkling" the driveway. Check it out:

This was followed by a lengthy discussion about how she was a "jumpy" sprinkler, and not one of those that "goes and goes."

Over-analyze much?

© Trippin' Mama 2010

The World's Blackest Banana

The other day I took Jeff's car to run a couple of errands. On the floor of the passenger side, I found this:

That is a banana. A very, very black banana.

Seriously, have you ever seen a banana so black in your entire life?

In addition to being uniformly as black as pitch, it was somewhat melted on one side. Ewww!

Jeff's explanation for this was that he grabbed the banana that morning, but left it in the car all day. It was warm here, about 80 degrees, which meant the car was probably more than 100 degrees. So apparently what we have here is a perfectly cooked banana.

All we need is a little rum and ice cream and we could have Bananas Foster!

© Trippin' Mama 2010